The benefit of travelling like we’ve been doing is that the distance and time means that you’;re alway having to stop in rest areas or the side of the road for a cuppa, lunch or general rest. It also means that everyone else has to too and this forms a handy informal travel advisory forum. People travel N-S or E-W but invariably pass at these impromptu stops. At several of these stops many people had told of us of a place called Barn Hill, 150kms S of Broome.
Due to the difficulty of Amber leaving I thought this might be a good stop for the first night. It turned out to be a very good idea. Although it’s 150kms S Broome, its also 10km E of the main road along a very straight red sandy road. It was a surreal experience that heightened the sense of adventure. Passing makeshift gates with clear instruction to close afterwards the road went on and on. It wasn’t a bad road either but they’d put some sneaky roadhumps to keep the impatient ones (cough cough) on the straight and narrow.
I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect due to the distance from the main road but it turned out to be a cattle station that happened to have a foreshore border so had turned the area into a basic caravan park. The first sight that greeted me was two couples playing lawn bowls on a makeshift green. The owners weren’t around yet so invited me to watch them play. It was a nice way to spend half hour.
For $20pn unpowered I had a generator-free area all to myself, access to hot-ish showers but importantly a short walk down to the beautiful beach. I tried to get into the fishing spirit but the line tangled and left me feeling pretty rubbish. I settled into making sandcastles instead until the sun started to set.
As the site was so remote I decided to stay another night and utilise the beach the second day by trying to fish but the powers that be have obviously deemed my role in the world as not fishing by breaking the reel again. More sandcastles and a rough swim later I called it a day and settled into reading for the rest of the day. The rock formations stretch for many kms both sides of a small ramp that provides access to the beach, which with the road leading in, gives the place a very strong sense of isolation and remoteness. The light here was amazing but to be honest was finding it difficult to concentrate on.
The sky was immaculate and brought to life millions of stars and the occasional jet but importantly a shooting star. After the last few days it had felt very lonely and spiritual about things and this star made quite an impression.
My neighbours invited me to the evening get together where campers brought their dinner, or cooked on the prepared BBQ and sat around chatting. It was a lovely evening talking to a few people who had plans to visit England but who came from Perth so could bring me some good recommendations on where to go. Much of the chatter around the table was the imminent high tide that would provide perfect fishing conditions, already demonstrated by the sheer numbers of fisherman as dusk settled. Whilst sandcastling, a large threadfin salmon was landed, an amazing sight that I was assured would be very tasty.
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