Rested and recovered we heading out mid-morning on the first
leg of our journey across the Kimerberly.
Our destination was a caravan park in Fitzroy Crossing, about one-third
of the way to Wyndom and the northmost coastline of Australia. We purposely did not book space in advance
because we were told reservations at this time of the year were not
necessary. As it worked out it was a
blessing.
Our drive started off by crossing over some coastal
wetlands, lots of billabongs (wetlands), many rivers in the process of drying
up now that the rainy season is over, and the beginnings of wildflower
blooming. From sea level we gradually
climbed to about 700 feet, just high enough to begin to see the marking of the
northern end of the Great Sandy Desert.
Vast prairies of grass clumps, lower rising gum trees, and the occasional
Koab tree dotted the landscape. Red,
golden, and brown termite mounds dotted the landscape, so dense in some areas
that the mounds outnumbered the bushes and trees. The road gently wound ever eastward through
outcropping or red boulders and the occasional low table plateau. This land with its bare furnishings is
stunning and reminiscent of the African plains in Tanzania and Kenya.
For lunch we stopped at a rest area built around a huge Koab
tree, several thousand years old with a truck twice the width of the
campervan. We were mesmerized by its
size as verified by the number of photo we took. They start off in their prime years looking
like a huge wine bottle with a tree growing out of the top. As they age, the trunk gets bigger and bigger
and the bows drop down and surround the tree, changing it from a wine bottle to
something entirely different…fascinating.
We reached Fritzroy Crossing around 3PM and were surprised
by what we found. It is a town of about
1,000 people with an assortment of local services…grocery, gas, post office,
etc. We had planned to stay here for
several days. The travel brochures listed a dozen or so activities and sites of
interest, access to the southern section of some of the national parks were a
two-wheel drive car could reach, and a very well-informed and staffed visitor
center. It was still Easter holiday and
the area around the gas station and visitor center was swarming with local
townsfolk, well over 200 teenagers (no exaggeration) looking bored and giving a
lot of attention to our campervan, the only one parked at the center. The visitor center was closed. The RV park we were planning to stay at
turned out to be un-staffed, had only one guest checked in, and was way too near
the city center. Nothing was appealing
about this little village and we got an uneasy feeling out any stay let alone
several days.
We had booked in advance a tour of the Mimbi Caves, a site
90 kms east of the village for the next day.
The travel books claimed there was a new campground at the site so we
decided to drive the additional hour and toss the dice. It was a good bet. The meeting place for the cave tour was two
miles off the main road and the campground another few miles past that. All there was were a few signs. We met a young women on the road, a new
employee, that said to just find a spot, and pay in the morning when we met for
the tour. We arrived to find ourselves
the only campers on site. A brand new
campground, beautifully landscaped and equipped, right at the base of an
exposed reef from the Devonian period…solar powered with hot and cold showers,
a fire pit, and a community kitchen with stainless steel countertops, a wash
sink, and free gas BBQs. We were in pig
heaven.
We set up camp, played a game of scrabble, and waited to see
who else might show up. By sundown we
were still alone, the sky growing darker and darker with a full moon and an
unbelievable starry night with not a cloud in site. Bobbie built a fire in the pit, we made
dinner at the outdoor kitchen, and eased into the darkness with big smiles on
our faces.
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