14 April 2013 - West Kimberley Lodge, Derby, Western Australia

We were still plucking the last of the prickles from our extremities this morning however we had passed an excellent night, oblivious to any commotion that may or may not have been going on all about us.

In fact our few days spent travelling through Halls Creek and Fitzroy Creek have been altogether very pleasant, especially if one can ignore the Gallons Curse. Let us add our positive voices to travel notes through these parts and block out negative murmurings  Of course one might say that with such negative expectations, the bar was set low and so naturally we would be pleasantly surprised. Whatever.

Even though I found myself accosted by the garrulous Julie this morning (and could have gladly stayed to listen to further tales of the north and other places had we not been leaving), we did get away around 9 am and headed off westwards once more, across the Great Northern Highway.

As we pulled away from Fitzroy Crossing the skies to the west were smudged with smoke, evidence of managed fires, but they were well beyond the road and did not directly effect us. The route continued on much as it has since the Purnululu National Park turnoff, savannah lands grazed by a motley collection of cattle and pimpled with lumpy anthills. Unlike the cathedral or the magnetic ant towers, these are as varied as an evolved township, but take the shapes of suma wrestlers, crouched gorillas, wombats, croquembouche, multi scoops of ice-cream-in-a-cone, warts and so on.

The wildlife seen from the road has been a little disappointing although we have seen large flocks of hawks circling or rising from the tarmac ahead and suspect that they are busy and efficient carcass cleaners. At times we have seen areas which have been over grazed and sometimes, great areas of mutant boabs. (I say mutant to differentiate from the graceful shapes seen on the road to Wyndham).

Dirt tracks continue to disappear into the never-never, presumably access to stations or to the many aboriginal communities tucked away in the remote expanse of this region.

Our lunch stop at the Derby turnoff

By midday we had covered the 218 kilometres to the turnoff to Derby. We stopped at the roadside and had lunch, always keen to deal with more urgent matters before tackling decisions about where to stay. Another forty one kilometres brought us into the town where we found the Information Centre closed and the town definitely in Sunday mode. After a telephone call, we elected to stay at this camp rather than the more central one. This has a graduating or reducing tariff for the number of days stayed and we were certain we would need at least the three days booked.

A short walk to the Woolworths supermarket to stock up on meat, fruit and vegetables worked up enough of a sweat for a swim. Refreshed, we then caught up with Larissa on Skype. Contact with family seems a little problematic with the four hour difference; we simply need to adjust our system.

It is still 37 degrees; a good excuse to have the noisy air-conditioner on.