It’s Two Weeks of Australia!
Monday, June 20, 2011
For the next fortnight, we’re going to romp from corner to corner of Australia, starting in Broome, in the northwest corner. Broome was built on the wide-shoulders of a Pinctada Maxima, a massive pearl oyster, and now the town feels like it’s stuck in the middle between a wild-west outback town and a tourism hub for the natural treasures of “The Kimberly,” a vast stretch of land that stretched across the top half of the Australian Continent. During my visit, I arrived to a phrase I wasn’t too keen to hear, “I haven’t seen it rain during the dry in thirty-three years.” Yep, I had a whole 15 hours of rainless skies. Since the life of travel writer and photographer does not include sitting still, I jumped in my rental car to head to Gantheaume Point, about a mile from town, in time for sunset.
All I really had in mind was a nice sunset shot then scurrying on to find something else to shoot, but I ended up staying until the last fingers of sunlight released their grip on the sky. Plus, there were some pretty cool things to see including 120 million year old footprints in the sandstone made by dinosaurs, and the Anastasia’s Pool, etched into the rocks by a lighthouse keeper to ease his wife’s arthritis.
But, what kept me there was the constantly changing relationship between the deep red sandstone rocks, the blue of the water and the lightshow of the setting sun. In fact, I picked up my camera several times thinking I was done, then the sun would throw some golden light on the sea and the rocks would glow and I’d be scrambling to set up and catch the moment. I ended up just leaving my tripod open after three or four failed attempts at leaving, and getting laughed at by a group of girls that had thrown a blanket next to me. They’d shown up to toast the sunset with wine and champagne and they offered me a glass, or two, which certainly helped pass the time between shots. They modeled for me, I modeled for myself and I stole, paparazzi-style several shots of locals fishing off the point of land. The girls did what most girls apparently do: talked about boys, and they kept turning to me after a particularly personal comment and laughing and saying, “sorry, TMI,” to which I replied that their conversation was tremendously more enlightening than the Cosmo I read on the flight from Sydney. Either way, I stood in my spot feeling like a man-spy, while they chattered on and the sun put on a show that kept me there until long after everyone else had left. The girls generously “loaned” me a half bottle of merlot since it was clear I was in for the long haul, but had to take back their glasses, so I stood on the darkening point of red rocks, watching each star in the night sky pop to life as if a million switches turned on at random intervals, drinking my wine straight from the bottle. I have to say, after traveling for two solid days to get to Broome, it was the exact time I can say I started to feel the pulse of this vast land.
We’re staying in Broome for tomorrow’s Australia Fortnight Blog, where the landscape becomes even more stunning before the rain hits.
Where I stayed: www.pinctadacablebeach.com.au — Great rooms, close to famous Cable Beach where you can ride a camel at sunset and drive your car onto the sand to enjoy sunset from your fave 4WD.
About Broome: www.broomevisitorcentre.com.au/ — Chinatown, pearl luggers museum, shopping, restaurants.
Where I ate: www.matsos.com.au — I went here because they have handcrafted beer, and when in Rome, right? I sampled the Smoky Bishop, the Diver’s Porter and for pure science the Staircase Cider. Oh, yes, I did eat, too. Duck liver and brandy pate (yum) to start and the Matso’s famous Fish and Chips, which went well with the second Smoky Bishop. I was joined by four backpackers from Germany, Uwe and Monika, Kaspar and Petra, and we diligently took on the journalistic duties of sampling the rest of what was on draft until we could all communicate perfectly.
About Australia: www.tourism.australia.com — Anything and everything important to know about what travelers call, “Oz.”
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