The Kimberley

Kununurra airport is a tiny frontier airport, so small in fact, that it has a single café and a book exchange scheme (quaint)! The airport serves the Kimberley, by repute one of the last true wildernesses on the planet. In actual fact, I think that means one of the last wildernesses that people actually want to travel to – there are certainly plenty of others. The Aussies we spoke to, seemed genuinely impressed that a pair of Pommies had found their way to a place so heavily revered by lovers of the great outdoors. We only found out about this place through a chance discussion with an Australian family we met in Patagonia a few years back. Having decided they were the discerning sort, it has been on our list ever since – or more specifically Jenn’s list.

Having picked up a 4×4 hire car we were off. Sadly, the famed phrase ‘or similar’ bit us in the backside and rather than a Toyota Landcruiser, the beloved work-horse of the outback, we had to make do with a make I’ve never heard of. Nonetheless – we had a perfectly serviceable off-roader for a few days.

Kununurra is a tiny town on the edge of Mirima National Park. It quickly becomes apparent that the vast majority of travellers to these parts are serious outdoor enthusiasts – boasting every type of caravan, camper and trailer you can imagine. All of which look seriously rugged. Our accommodation for the first two nights at the Freshwater East Kimberley Apartments almost feels like cheating. But opposite is a campsite built around a lake and surrounded by Baob trees (who knew that they grew in Australia) – where we grab an early lunch and pretend that we aren’t really staying in a fully equipped room opposite.

A short ride that afternoon takes us to Mirima. Helpful signs set out the degree of difficulty and elapsed time to complete the available hikes. We quickly decide that the sign writers have erred on the side of caution and duly complete the longest trail within half the allotted time. Unfortunately this sign lures us into a false sense of security – and we discover that elsewhere the sign-writers have, if anything, undersold difficulty!

The scenery in this part of the world is stunning. Red escarpments abound surrounded by a mix of different flora. It does feel very Crocodile Dundee. It is also incredibly quiet. We barely see another person for the first couple of hours of our walk. About the only living creature that you ae guaranteed to see are birds of prey. I’ve never been anywhere with so many raptors of various sorts. The geology is pretty special, and as ever in such places, one feels both peaceful and small.

We visit an aboriginal art gallery and purchase a carved Baob seed to add to my collection. Decide I would like to learn more about aboriginal art whilst I’m travelling in Australia – fascinated by their oral tradition and Dreamtime creation stories. More to follow.

Next day we have one of the biggest splurges of our trip – a heli-hike to the Bungle Bungle range. In this part of the world you can either drive a long way, walk for days, or fly. To give you a sense of scale – when they herd cattle on the station here, they do it by helicopter. It’s not uncommon for stations to be well over a million acres and hold 60,000 cattle.

Our trip takes us over Lake Argyle and into the Bungle Bungle range. This is seriously impressive – geology created over the millennia by the elements. You can see it on foot, but you can only appreciate the enormity of it from the air. It is home to many sacred sites and you can see why. Like many parts of Australia it is transformed by the wet and dry seasons. Owing to recent rain, we see it somewhere in the middle – it’s still green and retains a reasonable amount of water. In the wet season – it must be a pretty ominous, but spectacular place.

We land next to a shed in the middle of nowhere, namely, Purnululu National Park. After making a quick bush coffee we are introduced to our guide. You can’t miss the fella – big beard, big hat, bright white crocs (which he subsequently changes for the beauts below) and a personality as loud as his shoes. Heralding from the Tiwi Islands this is ‘JD’. Immediately reminds me of my brother.

Over a coffee we get to know our guide a little bit. Interesting character. Ex-special forces, ex-firefighter, ex-crisis first responder. He can’t talk much about where he’s been and what he’s seen – but it’s clear that he’s been into some pretty dire situations and carries a few of the scars both mentally and physically. Feel pretty confident that not much is going to pose a problem to us for the next few hours. Next time I get in a scrap – would quite like him on hand.

He is also passionate about pretty much everything from indigenous culture to science. Transpires that he’s been awarded a scholarship with Harvard and is at the start of a mixed science degree. Seems Harvard have been pretty flexible and are mixing practical experience, research gained in situ, and taught content. He is also heavily involved in building a programme to help train indigenous people to find gainful employment. Early days – but again, pretty cool.

Our walk takes us through the park to Cathedral Gorge – with constant commentary of flora, fauna, geology and indigenous people from JD. As we wade through the rivers it’s impossible to avoid the thousands of tadpoles. Normally that would be almost cute. In this instance it is very sad. These are young Cane Toads, an invasive species introduced by a well meaning twit in 1935. Originally introduced to reduce the number of Cane Beetles, they have decimated species of lizard, fish and birds owing to their toxicity. They are highly poisonous. They have spread massively across Australia leaving devastation in their wake. With no natural predators, there is nothing to hold numbers in check. The irony is that the beetles that they were introduced to curb, sit at the top of canes, well out of the reach of the toads! So absolutely no benefit and disastrous unintended ecological consequences for the local fauna. Sadly, this is not an isolated incident – various invasive species have been introduced to Australia wreaking havoc (including rabbits). Interestingly, nature is learning to fight back. Certain birds have discovered that if you drop a Cane Toad from about 30 feet it will explode at which point you can eat the non-toxic organs. Pretty clever.

The landscape is incredible, swimming in the pools is very refreshing (and purported to have health benefits), whilst the discussion with JD helps to fill in some gaps in our knowledge of the area. We are mistaken for tour guides by an Australian visitor – clearly the outfits work as a cunning disguise!

A 90 minute journey back – taking in the Ragged Range and the Argyle pink diamond mind (once pumping out $45-50m a day in pink diamond) – concludes a really fantastic day in the Bungle Bungle. It may not have the wildlife of Borneo, but it is a very special place.

Next day sees us drive to El Questro. A 4×4 is a must on the Gibb River Road, famed throughout Australia for it’s river crossings, ruggedness, isolation and scenery. It’s an interesting drive that culminates at the El Questro Station – our home for the next three nights. For those with deeper pockets – the Homestead is a short drive away. In this instance we elect for more modest accommodation and invest the delta in airborne activities. Personally, I think that’s the way to do it. The Station is actually pretty cool and an experience in its own right.

The afternoon finds us at Amalia Gorge. We are the last people at the falls given that the sun sets early doors here at around 5.15pm, and after dark it’s not a great idea to find yourself alone in the bush! It’s tropical and more of a scramble than a walk. Find myself feeling grateful that we are both in reasonable health.

Next morning, we heli-hike to Amaroo Falls. It’s only 15 minutes by helicopter – but with the doors off, it’s a really cool way to travel and the only practical way to reach out destination – it would otherwise be a two day hike. Provisioned with breakfast sandwiches we make our way through the gorge. Again, its stunning – but what is really nice is that we are the only people around for miles. The water is bracing – but even at that time in the morning the air soon warms you. Impossible not to feel incredibly lucky sitting with a sandwich and some fruit at the bottom of the gorge watching the sun transform the rocks through a full spectrum of red.

A horseback sun-downer beckons in the late afternoon. Our guide, Maddy must have been all of 10 years old. Daughter of the owners, that is one young lady who is going to be a force to be reckoned with when she’s older!

It’s a short journey to the top of an escarpment traversing a couple of rivers en route. Our fellow riders include a vet and a mining engineer. The former is living an alternative lifestyle working and travelling – having spent time doing the same in Vietnam and Cambodia. Racked up 250k miles in her Landcruiser and committed to working to live not the other way round. Admirable. Our engineer is from Newcastle. Nice lad, indiscriminate accent, but given away by his adidas tracksuit bottoms (you can take the boy out of Newcastle…). Reckons he earns 3x more than when he was in the UK and works 10 days on 10 days off. This is his first time on a horse. Does really well and even manages to hang on when his horse gets spooked and makes a decent effort to bolt. Despite looking a little paler at the end – he survives to tell the tale!

We plan to visit Zebedee natural springs next morning. Drive and a short walk. Apparently it gets very busy first thing. We go to bed having decided to go at 10am after a bit of a lie in…

At 6.15 the following morning Jenn exercises her executive discretion and determines we are getting there for 7am – when it opens…

Turns out to be an inspired decision.

The car park is crowded and what feels like an entire Australian saga tour have descended on the pools. Barely any space to be found. I was not in the best of moods. What a difference a day makes – yesterday blissful solitude – 24 hours later we are surrounded by the great unwashed. Lets just say it wasn’t for me. Would have been fine at 10am… just saying.

However, now that we are up, and following a half decent breakfast – we decide to walk to El Questro Gorge. Jenn and I have a decent debate about this one. The camp reception said, and I quote, ‘we don’t recommend it, the start is flooded, there are poisonous snakes and we haven’t checked for crocs – but people are walking it and you can find a path.’ I heard – if you go we are not liable. Jenn heard, you shouldn’t do it. In any event some brave souls are giving it a crack – so we head off.

They are quite right – it’s flooded. We watch an Aussie couple take off shoes and socks and start wading. Another couple take one look, shake their heads knowingly and make a swift retreat.

After a brief debate, we decide to give it a crack. It’s brown, murky water that is up to the bottom of my shorts – so probably around Jenn’s waist. 😉 Fortunately, no snakes or other beasties. I took JD’s words to heart – ‘they hear you coming and scarper.’

Fortunately it’s only a few hundred yards and then we are back to scrabbling over rocks and crossing rivers via makeshift stepping stones. Again, it’s beautiful and worth the effort. We stop at the half-way point as we have to be back at camp by 14.00. A hefty boulder blocks the way to the second leg of the journey. Not insurmountable – but equally – very easy to slip and do oneself a mischief.

On the walk back we take advice from a couple we met, who suggest that if we go further right we can avoid more of the water. So we take their advice when the time comes. Good start – but then we find ourselves in a swamp. Chest high grass, lots of water. Shoes by now are drenched and it’s the better part of valour to push on, than to go back. We lose any discernible path – and so make our own. I decide to move at pace to get this over and done with. Decide not to think about what could be lurking here – ‘they hear you coming and scarper… they hear you coming and scarper.’

Having survived, it’s time for a sun-downer in the middle of nowhere. Utterly spoilt we have a cheese platter and a glass of bubbles as the sun sets. If there are better ways to spend a late afternoon, I’ve yet to find it!

On our final morning at the station we decide to join a nascent, indigenous culture immersion tour. Run by the Mowanjum people and only a few days into their pilot – this two hour session was probably one of my highlights to date. As I’ve mentioned, I find indigenous culture fascinating – but also very hard to follow. It seems highly nuanced. For example, once a person has passed, it is forbidden to say their name for fear of recalling them from the spirit land. So I was surprised to find the tour named in the honour of the grandmother of the family running the tour. An impressive matriarch who lived to well over a hundred, bore 15 children and witnessed the Forrest River Massacre – I can see why she is worthy of remembrance. Seemingly the elders gave permission for her name to be used despite her passing.

We are privileged to hear first hand about some of the local tribes beliefs. I still don’t fully understand – seems a mix of literal belief and metaphor, but without clear distinction. The Mowanjum people believe in Rai. They believe that when a woman is pregnant, whatever animal the father hunts and kills, will become that child’s spirit animal. We heard about how one of the daughter’s Rai was a kangaroo. She apparently carries a mark on her side coinciding with the point that her fathers spear pierced the animal. Another daughter’s Rai is a Black-headed Python (clubbed to death by Dad when it entered the house). The daughter was born with severe bruising around her head. The Mowanjum believe that when they pass they are returned to the spirit of that animal and as a result it’s sacrilegious to injure or eat the flesh of their designated spirit creature.

We take part in a burn ceremony, a tradition taught by their grandmother. One by one we are called forward whilst the hosts repeatedly warm their hands over the fire before placing them, quite firmly, on different parts of the body and muttering blessings. It’s a strange sensation and given that we are in the middle of the outback it does feel very spiritual.

The Mowanjum also believe in ‘poison relationships’ and as such certain kindred connections are banned. For example a son-in-law may not speak to his mother-in-law and vice versa – so too with certain cousins. They take this very literally. Our hosts had been married 40 years and the husband had never spoken to his mother-in-law. Imagine that!

They also speak a little about the challenges for indigenous people. Their grandmother had been clear that she wanted her children to grow up and ‘walk in two worlds.’ They are however very different worlds and it is easy to see how challenging the balance is to strike. It is a balance that has yet to be struck.

95% of indigenous children in the Kimberley end up in social care. Moreover, if the Kimberley were a country – it would have the highest teenage suicide rate in the world. Indigenous people were only permitted to consume alcohol legally in 1964 and it has wreaked havoc amongst the community. Lack of education and awareness has lead to Foetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders (FASD). It is incredibly sad. On the positive side programmes like this one and the work that JD and others are initiating will help – but it will be a long road.  

Finally, we are talked through various herbs, blessed with water, watch as the ancestral spirits are called and take part in a smoke ceremony. Smoke is important as a cleansing agent in their belief system.      

What a privilege. I leave feeling I’ve taken part in something very special, learned a lot and very definitely appreciate how little I know.

Feeling a little wiser we head for Emma Gorge, a sister site to the Station. Decide to walk to the gorge in the afternoon to give us time to do the Chamberlain Gorge cruise the next morning. By now we are somewhat spoilt by gorges and adept at scrambling over rocks. We arrive at the falls to discover that it is glacially cold (possible exaggeration) so have a paddle before convincing ourselves that it is too late in the day to go for a proper swim and head back!

Next morning is a 5.30am start to get packed up, grab some breakfast and head back to El Questro to catch the boat trip. We’ve seen the gorges on foot, by horseback, from the air and now by boat. Nice relaxing way to spend a couple of hours – feeding Archer Fish, looking out for Short-eared rock-wallabies and spotting our first fresh water crocodile (albeit through the trees).

We finish our time in El Questro by driving out to the major Pentecost River crossing. Our car is not equipped with a snorkel – which means that crossing water at depth is a bit of a lottery. We duly park up ahead of the water hazard alongside an Aussie couple who are debating whether to make the journey. We all decide that its doable and not at all daft to drive a hire car (not insured for water crossings) across a body of water of indeterminant depth…

Emboldened we all agree to make the journey – our Aussie friends leading the way. We watch as they cross. The water is a comfortable 2.5 foot most of the way across before a nasty bit at the other side where the car takes some punishment. Having watched – we decide that maybe this isn’t the smartest thing to do on our way to the airport. Cue – quick u-turn, a wave to our new found friends and off we go! Wimps!

Obligatory stop at Hoochery, gin distillery, for a  steak sandwich, some barramundi tacos, a tray of assorted cocktails and it’s back to the airport for our 3.5 hour flight to Perth.

A few people have commented that my last entry came across as relaying somewhat mixed feelings about NT. Possibly because of my description of Australia as ‘an arid landscape, full of flies, intense heat etc.’ However, for the record, despite my initial cynicism I can honestly say that we have loved our time in both the Northern Territory and the Kimberley. The landscape is stunning, people are friendly, and the weather is awesome. It’s not a place that very many English travellers visit – but they absolutely should. It feels like a well-kept secret – but if you want to experience proper wilderness – this is as good a place as any to do it.  

Finally, one particular mate, commented that my last post was enjoyable (actually not sure that they were that positive – but let’s go with it) owing to the lack of sickening pictures of Jenn and I staring at each other looking chilled out and relaxed – so this one’s just for you!