Exploring Wildflower Country : Mullewa, Canna, Morawa,
Perenjori, Three Springs and Eneabba.
Friday 30th August
This morning we take our leave of Geraldton. But before we left, I just
had to have a jump on the jumping pillow.
It does absolutely nothing for incontinence!!! But it was
so fun!!
From Geraldton, we
headed east, inland to Mullewa, a quaint little town where they were hosting
their Annual Wild Flower Show at the Town Hall.
It was a very nice display (or would have been before the
flowers had started to wilt). The lady on the door was most informative about
flowers in the area (or rather the lack of them). Apparently they are very few
and far between this year because of lack of rain.
It seems that even Glad Jenkins who usually has heaps of
flowers in her paddock by now, bought in a few flowers which usually have quite
long stalks but this year the stalks are very short. In fact, when they put the
flowers in the vase, they got sucked right into the water and they couldn’t get
them out again!
Outside
however, there were some lovely Kangaroo Paws and Everlasting Daisies.
After we left there, we drove past more flowers.
They
are a bit like mirages. Firstly, I don’t think they exist and secondly, they
look much better from a distance.
Early in the afternoon, we arrived in Canna and went to the campground
behind the long closed General Store and in the Lutheran Church grounds.
There was no sign of the caretaker, Paul. Ron decided to
park Indie up the back. There were several motor homes parked around the side
of the hall because that is where the four or so powered sites are. We had
heard about this spot from our friends Aidan and Mary.
We
decided to go for a walk and would you believe bumped into John and Teri
AGAIN!!! I’m sure they can be officially classified as stalkers by now!!! They
were camped at the same spot but we had not noticed them so if we had not
bumped into each other then, we could quite easily have missed each other!
Ron
and I walked over the railway line to the dam and then set off on an 1100m walk
to The Rock.
There were lots of lovely flowers in patches along the
way including some we had not seen before.
Of course, they look better in patches.
The track to The Rock was clearly signed at regular intervals and when
we got there. We climbed up it and the view was completely underwhelming.
As we wound our way back across the railway line and past
the Open Grain Handling Facility, Ron made me take an ‘arty’ shot down on the
railway line despite my protests that I would be run over by a train.
Ron was quite confident that there would not be any and
needless to say a coal train about 2km long came through four minutes later!
Happy not to have met my demise and realising that Happy
Hour would soon be upon us, we hurried back to our camp site to join with John
and Teri. By now the sun had set and the wind had picked up quite considerably.
It was then that we became painfully aware that The
Batavians (a Chapter of the C.M.C.A. from Geraldton) had booked the camp for
the next few days.
When we had first arrived, Ron was advised of this by
‘Hitler with a clip board’ who told him that another ‘outsider’ was camped here
as well. The fact that Ron and I are members of the C.M.C.A. (the Campervan and
Motorhome Club of Australia) held no sway at all.
Anyway,
in light of the dreadful weather conditions and that the hall was inhabited by
only a handful of ‘Batavians’, I went and asked a lady who was doing a jigsaw
puzzle (boy do they know how to have a good time) if the four of us might just
sit quietly in the corner for an hour or so. She assured me it would be no
problem until that is, we actually tried to do it. ‘Mrs Hitler with a clip
board’ immediately questioned our rights to be in the hall and within two
minutes ‘Hitler’ himself was there giving us our marching orders. They had paid
to hire the hall and God forbid, if they let us in, they would have to let
everybody in. I did point out that we were everybody (to no avail) and then,
proclaiming that we had been thrown out of better places than this, we left.
As we huddled on the sheltered side of a brick wall at
the end of the veranda, we were joined by Les and Wilma. They were with the
Batavians but Les was particularly peeved that we had been evicted.
We decided that we didn’t really care and had a wonderful
Happy Hour (or two). Les came from Three Springs which is not far away. Wilma
is about to start out on a long solo adventure on her own. Finally we were all
driven indoors by the inclement weather.
Saturday 31st August
We said our goodbyes this morning and while John, Teri,
Ron and I were over it, Les and Wilma were still angry at the poor treatment we
had received. I look on the bright side; if we hadn’t been evicted, we would
never have met and had the good time that we did.
Ronnie and I headed off towards Morawa.
We stopped at the Tourist Information Centre and were
assured that we had no need to travel too far afield (160km round trip from
Perenjori) in order to find the elusive wreath flowers and that they had some nearby.
The man then proceeded to give me a mud map leading just
over 30km out of town to Bateman Rd and assured me that the flowers’ location
was clearly marked by a white plastic drum on the roadside.
Armed with this new
found information, we headed off in the clear blue sunshine and duly arrived at
the nominated site. As soon as we turned off Indie’s engine, the heavens
opened. Finally the rains subsided and we were able to see them. They were
amazing.
From
there we continued on towards Perenjori.
We drove past more patches of wildflowers and are now
resigned to the fact that there will be no fields of flowers.
We are constantly told that there has not been enough
rain and even if we could find masses of everlasting daisies, they would all be
closed over because of the rain today. They only open in sunshine!
We finally arrived at Perenjori Caravan Park ($25.00 per
night powered and FREE washing machines AND dryers. Of course, there is a
donation box for St Johns Ambulance in the laundry so they guilt you into
paying anyway!)
The man in the office, Joel was really lovely. He was so
friendly and helpful and had a great sense of humour.
As I
was booking in, I noticed some stickers on the desk.
I asked how much they were and he said I could have one.
I thanked him and explained that my initials are PJ but
joked that no one loves me, not even my children. He asked how many children I
have and when I said two, he gave me another two stickers and told me to make
them put them on their cars.
As we went to our site, we came across some more everlasting daisies.
They looked resplendent in the sunshine but just as we had been told, as soon
as it rained, they closed up.
We spent the rest of the day sorting out household chores
and relaxing.
Sunday 1st September.
Time to leave and we couldn’t
find Joel to say goodbye so we headed into town to see the heritage trail
called The People’s Pathway. It is a heritage trail with a difference. It is an
eclectic collection of 22 rusty steel characters scattered along both sides of
the main street. They have explanatory signs telling about people, buildings
and social activities in the town and its environs over the last hundred odd
years.
I
proffered my leg as a substitute ‘leg of lamb’ for the butcher’s cleaver but
Ron insisted it was much more likely to be accepted as a ‘leg of mutton’!!!!
A little harsh I thought!!!!
As we were strolling along, Joel from the Caravan Park
stopped in his car and roused on us for trying to sneak off without saying
goodbye.
We
headed off to Three Springs and arrived at about 11.00am. They had a Wild
Flower show at the local hall so off we went.
It
was very nice and they had a lovely sample of the Eucalyptus Rose Mallee (The Three
Springs floral emblem) on display at the door.
They also had an art and photography exhibition (in which Ron and I
voted for the People’s Choice.)
Last but not least, they had a delicious Devonshire tea.
Ron got 2 scones because it was Father’s Day. Talk about spoilt. And both the
boys got in touch as well!!!
We were just finishing our Devonshire Tea when Wilma
(from Canna) rocked up. Les lives in Three Springs and so she took us round to
his house to surprise him. We had a great old chat and he showed us his
workshops, numerous assorted trailers, a Mini which he had
converted to a working tip truck and his pride and joy – a motorbike. It was a
Virago like the one’s Ron and I used to have.
After lots of chatting, Ron and I finally headed off
towards Eneabba.
Not
far down the road, we spotted an echidna crossing the road. We screeched to a
halt and I leapt from Indie, camera in hand, determined to get the
quintessential shot.
Obviously alarmed by the prospect of imminent attack, the
echidna did what all self-respecting echidnas do and started to roll into a
ball and was determined not to move any time soon.
This in turn, alarmed us because since he had dug his
claws firmly into the road surface and was refusing to move anywhere, he was
now in danger of becoming a statistic in the number of native animals who have
met their demise under a motor vehicle.
I went back to Indie,
grabbed a broom and swept him to safety (literally!!!!) I was a little
concerned that he might emerge a bit dizzy.
Our good deed was well rewarded; as we were driving away
a 4WD came over the crest of the hill just where the echidna had been.
Then
it was off to Western Flora Caravan Park 20 km north of Eneabba ($28.00 and
that included a free wild flower tour with Allan.)
The tour was very interesting and informative.
Sadly, I can’t remember most of the names.
After the tour, Allan showed us some plants under the microscope.
Tomorrow we will leave the wild flower country behind and
head back towards the coast.
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