Weeks 19 + 20 still talking five months on…

Five months is a long time. That’s 133 days in each other’s pocket.

And how are we going? As expected, we’ve had a few tense days, some disagreements, frustrations, heated words and solo hikes. Living in close quarters, foibles intensify and virtues wear thin. It’s easy to lose patience when you’re tired and, unlike home, there’re no work or social plans that create space. Travelling is hard work, relationships complex. Fortunately, we love seeing black cockatoos, spinifex and red rock, open skies and the road ahead. And delicious food improves any day. There have been moments when I have wondered if this will be our last trip but before too long, we’re discussing the next adventure. We often joke about our abundant patience and there’s a lot of truth in this. 

We leave the Gibb for Kununurra, with camera rolls crammed with bark, trunk, branch, flower, cliff, escarpment, rock, dirt and dust, water, expanses of sky and the most striking colour palette. 

The car is booked in for a tyre rotation in Kununurra. We need to do a shop and a wash, one of those necessary ‘reset’ days. Tedious but crucial.

In Kununurra on the walls of buildings are murals depicting a happy, well-adjusted community, scenes of stockyards and happy people sitting on the railings, First Nations people smiling, on country, vibrant sunsets and bright nature scenes. These are a stark contrast to what I see: disenfranchised First Nations people sitting, wandering, standing about. It’s the same in Derby, Broome, Carnarvon, and, apart from the obvious colonial history, I wonder how it’s like this, how a democratic, progressive society can have left so many people behind.

There’s a lot to explore around this eastern edge of the Kimberley. We drive the challenging Spring Creek 4WD trail, nine kilometres one-way with another swimming hole and waterfall at the end. There were quite a few water crossings, water up to the gunnels on several.  At the swim hole, with few people around, we soak up the serenity, bird song and glorious green of the plants and water. 

At Molly Springs, another oasis, there’s a shady spring-fed waterhole and another gorgeous waterfall. Swimming is a sweet treat in croc country. I meet a seven year old boy whose speech seems delayed perhaps because English isn’t his first language. We have a little chat while he throws rocks into the water. His family’s in town while he lives in full-time care with workers who alternate on a two-week roster. The carer with him, reading her book on the bank in the shade of a melaleuca, is filling in for one of the regulars. She has a degree in criminology and social work and is up from Perth.

We pop back in town for our last shop before El Questro where I ask an Aboriginal woman what DAWANG means on the vermillion sunset mural on the Commonwealth Bank building. It means country. There are images of a child on a rope swing, other children in the tree watching her swing. There’s such joy in this image.

We head towards Wyndham and spend a night at the Parry Creek Farm in the Parry Lagoon Nature Reserve and I go searching for the endangered Gouldian finch, taking an afternoon stroll through the boabs across the plain and in the morning on the Nature Reserve. I see not a soul and relish the solitude and silence. I don’t see the elusive finch but do catch the pink and silver hues of the boabs in the early morning light, paperbarks by waterholes and the crazy calls of blue-winged kookaburras.

The night before meeting Brodie and John we camp close to Emma Gorge just off the Gibb, beside an enormous boab. We can be up early to catch the early morning light on our walk up this first of the El Questro gorges and we’re first in the car park, the first in the gorge. 

It’s spectacular. 

We spend some quiet moments in the gorge before Brodie and John arrive. It’s a remarkable way to start our time in El Questro. The breathtaking 65 metre waterfall gently showers the pool with moss and fern covering the southern walls of layered red sandstone, perfectly complimenting the rich cerulean water.

There’s a lot to do at El Questro. On our first full day, we hike the 10 kilometre Champagne Springs walk during which we all end up with muddy boots as we tramp through lush forest in between the dry riverbed and rocky platforms leading up to the majestic cascading swimming holes. 

The El Questro Gorge walk has two parts, the first being more accessible up to Halfway Pool. The second has us clambering over house-sized round and cubed boulders between imposing rock walls. We all feel like kids playing in a wilderness paradise, balancing along fallen tree trucks as we criss-cross the river, climbing and adventuring up the narrowing gorge to the unassuming pool and another waterfall.

I didn’t expect to see quite so many waterholes up here in northern WA. How do they exist in such arid environments? There’s an incredible amount of water up here, boosted by the rain event a month ago. 

I spend another early morning looking for the Gouldian finch but again it eludes me. I have to content myself with the nesting sea eagles across from our campsite and the olive python coiled in a nearby pandanas on the riverbank nearby. 

On the sunset Chamberlain River Cruise, we learn about the geology of the region, see rock wallabies and feed the funny little archer fish who shoot jets of water to catch its insect prey. As we lean over the edge with food for them, their tactics work, with many of us wet from their antics, copping it in an eye or on a cheek.  

Up from our private campsite on the Pentecost River, we enjoy sundowners at the Pigeonhole Lookout with dingoes howling in the distance.

At the end of our time at El Questro, heading back into Kununurra for our final night in the northern reaches of WA, Jeremy and I travel quietly, thoughtfully reflecting with gratitude on what an awesome adventure we’re enjoying together. On this grand country, dwarfed by these vast landscapes, chasms and open skies, we think about how small we are.