Leaving one of the best camp spots so far, overlooking a green paddock with a stunning sun rise, we chugged back out to the Eyre Highway headed ever west.
After about a hundred kilometres or so we hooked left into Fowlers Bay. We knew with all knowing that this place was the jewel in the South Australian crown. U-Tube raved about it, tourist brochures said it was a ‘don’t miss’, grandmothers who had never been there had it on their bucket list and all roads led to it. Well glory be, Fowlers by name, totally fowl by nature. Collectively we could not come up with enough adjectives to describe this place. Almost completely devoid of humans. Had it never seen a broom or a face lift?. Even the town jetty was falling down.
Being committed to spending our dollars in struggling communities we braved the coffee shop. G and Sue went to the door that clearly had two horizontal arrows depicted upon it. They tried to slide it. Not a chance. They tried everything, calling on their experience in getting into dress shops with all manner of entrances. No hope. Just as they had given up a holler from within broke the days silence. “The knob, the knob” it shouted. The girls turned around to finally see hidden by stale plastic blinds, a doorknob that required turning. The arrows were just to tell you where the knob was. By now the girls were in fits, the owner of the voice was forever known as Mr Knob. The raison toast and coffee that followed were indeed very good. Mr Knob turned out to be a nice guy. Mrs Knob more so, exuding a pleasantry not often encountered these days.
We left Fowlers Bay traipsing our way across low lying areas filled mostly with still water and land for sale signs. It was actually pretty picturesque. G wanted a picture. Peter pulled Puma off to the left in what was for all intents and purposes a well-used pull off spot. As he turned he realise Puma had lost all steering. Her momentum suffered a similar blow. The mighty beats was sinking fast. A slap back to second gear and a boot full of throttle managed to get the unit back onto solid roadway moments before a fate worse than death; having to spend even longer in Fowlers Bay waiting to get pulled out of a bog.
Next stop along the Eyre Highway was the Head of Bight whale watching and interpretive centre. Our $16 per person entry fee allowed us to walk to the end of a grand wooden walkway in the hope of seeing a Southern Right Whale. Thankfully our gamble paid off and we saw about eight of them. It could have been two of them four times, who would know. We spend a fair amount of time at this spot as the whales are completely mesmerising. The rugged coastline also added to the wonderful experience.
With the next major fuel stop over 200km away Peter decided to top up to be sure at the Nullarbor Roadhouse. We had heard this place was on the dear side for fuel. When everywhere else was hovering around the $1.40 mark, we expected this may be $1.50 or a bit better per litre. Peter and G are still recovering from acute onset of fuel price induced stroke. $1.97 was the going rate! We really did not expect this till the Great Central Road two weeks away. We put in just enough to get us through to Border Village tomorrow.
CB conversation led us to agree a good overnight camp would be the Bunda Cliffs. These are the ones you see in all the tourist brochures. Almost impossible to find, not being signposted, they are indeed fabulous. Their anonymity on the road map ensures that only those who have done their research know where they are. Thus, as little as six or so campers occupy a massive area right on top of those beautiful cliffs overlooking the Great Australian Bight. Just to top off the afternoon we arrived and saw up close a Southern Right Whale and calf. We didn’t have to pay $16 either.
Our intended afternoon drinks were interrupted by rain sending us scampering inside. We ate heartily tonight as tomorrow most of our vegetables have to be handed over to the WA authorities for it is not only COVID they panic about in the west.
