The Adventure Begins
One week down, and what a crazy first week it has been! A willy wagtail invading our bus, an army of cockatoos, Sabre learning standup paddle boarding…but I get ahead of myself. Let’s start at the beginning.
I had just put the finishing touches on my mum’s mural, and we were all packed and ready to go. Alessandra had a full lepidopterarium of butterflies in her stomach, but she still managed to courageously take the helm and - as is always the case with these sorts of challenges - quickly became comfortable once we got started. We determined to make the most of the weather and go north, returning to Perth in August for my next PET scan, and making our way south from there.
We decided to spend the first night at a caravan park, so that we could calmly and comfortably figure out all of Pumbaa’s hidden secrets. Sabre was remarkably at ease, snuggled in his dog bed that sits nestled between Alessandra and I up the front of the bus. He carried on with his tuneless operatic soprano at first, but before long he was splayed out full-stretch, dreaming doggy dreams while we drove on. As Pumbaa ate up the road, I could feel my shoulders ease, their perpetual burden of many months’ preparation lifting - we were off on our adventure at last.
We pulled into Cervantes after an exhausting drive. I had already clambered up onto Pumbaa’s roof, learning how best to fill up the jerry cans with water and diesel and ratchet them down; and we continued to figure things out once we parked up. We learned how to extend the awnings either side of the bus; how to attach the magnetic flyscreen to stop the hordes of friendly flies from joining us on our trip; how to set up our space and navigate the cramped corridor of Pumbaa’s interior. Tired but satisfied, we took Sabre out for a well-earned walk along the coast, exploring a derelict beachhouse made of driftwood as the sky swam and bled away into the purples and reds of sunset.
Day two began with ham, cheese, crackers and hot chocolate at the beachfront. As we ate our meal, a very irritated willy wagtail flew right into our bus and up onto the bed, chirruping and whistling obscenities at us. I had to cup the little fellow in my hands and throw him out, and he seemed entirely unfazed by the whole ordeal. We drove onward, northward, and set up camp at Ellendale Pool - a beautiful lake with rope swings, backed by high, craggy cliffs of red and orange stone, which fairly glowed with the setting sun. I cooked butter chicken, and we sat and talked through the irritability that had simmered within me all day long - a consequence, I suspect, of the first full day I have had without a morning coffee in years. Its hard to give up a habit.
The third day was ushered in with the penetrating swawking of a thousand white cockatoos. No, seriously. They flooded the campground, the very branches of the trees boughing and sagging under their weight. They sounded as if every single Karen in the world had congregated into a single spot to complain. They sounded like choir practice with a choir comprised exclusively of heavy metal singers. They sounded like the entire species has a phobia of the rising sun. Then - as if on cue - they all stopped. Job done, I suppose. Geraldton was our next stop, and, after arrival, setup and a good rest, we went to the Provincial - the bar where I did my first mural. It was still there, above and to the right of the bar…though they’d repainted the surrounding wall, which included my signature. Nevertheless, the mural continues to hold up as a piece I’m proud of.
By day four, we were really getting into a groove with our packing up and morning routines. We drove to Galena Bridge campsite - a dusty patch of gravel at the edge of a river. The sound of the river water gurgling placidly by was the perfect backdrop to a day of rest. We played board games, and set Sabre up with his first lick-mat experience (a rubber mat, with a grid upon which to smear peanut butter or a dog treat of choice). I have never seen such dedication or singularity of focus as he showed with that mat.
Onward to Kalbarri for day five, and our first big adventure: Kalbarri National Park. We left Sabre with a local dogsitter, advising her of his dramatic personality as we nervously piled treats into her hands. The park was spectacular. We began with Nature’s Window: a naturally-formed window of slim slabs of red rock, set to frame the view of blue sky and winding river beyond. Next was the ‘Skywalk’ - a jutting lookout, perched precariously over the edge of a cliff. The grills and walkways of the construction were fashioned with many small holes and gaps, so that every breeze cooed and howled as it blew past. Finally, we hiked a trail down the gorge to the river, clambering down loose stone paths and ladders; between rocks that balanced impossibly, one atop the other and each as big as a car. We were glad of the flynet headwraps we had bought at the petrol station earlier that morning, as swarms of flies were out in the beating midday sun. We relaxed at the bottom, slipping our feet into the water and building little rock towers at the water’s edge. The trek back up was harder, but we managed; and, finally, we were back at the dogsitters, greeted by a very happy Sabre. Apparently, he carried on for the first hour, but was a big softie for the rest of the time.
Day six, I sketched Alessandra as we drove to Monkey Mia. We spent two days there, recharging. We said hello to the emus that browsed around our bus, seeking some scrap of food (or anything, really - not the smartest bird in the world, emus). We did our washing, watched the dolphins swim languidly to the shore for feeding, and visited a little lagoon. The little lagoon, whose name is actually Little Lagoon, was an expansive circle of shallow, lapping seawater, and we spent much of the second day there. We built sandcastles (well, Alessandra did - I built a sandSabre), and Alessandra patiently taught Sabre how to sit on the standup paddle board as she paddled around the still water. When I first paddled it over, Sabre barked at it - even tried to bite it - but by the end, he had decided it was O.K.
Well, there it is; our first week. We have driven a lot, walked a lot, and seen many beautiful things. What have we learned so far?
Challenges faced and challenges begun are challenges already overcome
Don’t give up coffee at the start of a complete lifestyle shift - it’s going to cause some friction
Cockatoos think they’re roosters
You need plenty of time to rest and recharge when starting something new
The most beautiful places are on the other side of the most difficult terrain
Sabre can handle babysitting
Charge and fill up everything when you have the chance to do so
Always bring a flynet
