Gorgeous gorges

Kalbarri.

Truth, Beauty and Pictures of Us

As far as looks go I'm personally afflicted with the more rugged variety of beauty. Age lines criss-crossing my forehead compete with a kind of zig-zag set of opposing lines embossed there each morning – possibly due to the way I press my head into my pillow or more likely the result of some Harry Potter meets Zorro action that occurred during my dream state. In any case I've noticed that those aprés sleep wrinkles no longer pop out with the morning's first splash of cold water – they seem able to endure all day.

For this reason I have an affection for the coast immediately north of Perth. Heading north after a prolonged period in the south is like divorcing Liv Tyler to shack up with Bette Midler. Ladies, I know you refuse to get that metaphor so for you it's like divorcing Johnny Depp to – well to do just about anything that involves divorcing Johnny Depp. This time of year in particular, the swell and the currents change to bring an immense amount of weed on to the beaches and the prevailing winds change to bring an equally copious amount of flies from the east. Interestingly the flies are keen on the weed – they like to lay their eggs in there and when the weeds get dragged back out to sea the herring love to feast on the maggots. So it's not all bad – right?

One of the great things about herring is their complete lack of discrimination. Throw anything more appetising than the dirty washing into the ocean and they will bite. (I've tried doing my washing in the ocean – they didn't bite.) That day (see earlier posts) when we hooked up with a sea gull I'm pretty sure if I hadn't pulled it in to perform open hook surgery whilst Jean held its head (girl's job) if I had instead just left it out there with a hook in it I would have no doubt pulled in a swag of herring. Especially if I had left it out there long enough to attract the flies and their kin.

Yes, the flies, the flies, the flies. So far we have scorned our fellow travellers who wear fly nets all day every day but I can see where they are coming from. (Not really, I think they look ridiculous – as far as seeing where these people are coming from though it appears to be Germany. Someone should tell the German embassy that real Australians wear corks from their hats – not those namby pamby nets on their heads that look like a fishing trip gone wrong.) Apologies for the racial slurs Rene or any other Germans if you are still reading our blog - I advise you to write a comment along the lines of "who won the football?"

Ok, now that I've built it up I should mention that I really do like all the little fishing towns between Perth and here where here equals Kalbarri. We've spent a night or an hour or so in Yanchep, Guilderton, Sea Bird (awesome name), Ledge Point, Lancelin, Cervantes, Jurien Bay, Leeman, Green Head, Port Denison and Horrocks. It is true they won't light up a tourist brochure like their Margaret River siblings but sometimes it is the more rugged kind of beauty that endures. Bette Midler has her charms after all – she can um sing and um act. By that standard these towns and their weedy beaches are positively charming. 

By the way Jean has said that she would never divorce me for Johnny Depp – not unless he offered.

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