29 June 2013 - Bunbury Glade Caravan Park, Bunbury, Western Australia

Sunshine! How welcome that was this morning when we poked our heads out the door. All the more because I had another drive tour planned. By 10 am our diesel tanks were replenished and we headed south on the South Western Highway toward Donnybrook, passing through Boyanup, a small highway side township of less than a thousand people. It sits on the banks of the Preston River which we followed on down to Donnybrook.

Donnybrook is an absolutely charming town, again situated on the highway with about three times Boyanup’s population. There are several beautiful old oak trees in the town, one bearing a plaque celebrating its planting in 1890. The riverside parks and roadside gardens were full of flowering roses and pansies and it was easy to overlook the fact that many of the once busy service shops are now home to second hand shops and those selling spells, fairies and the services of clairvoyants. The once busy rail yard has now been redeveloped into tidy car parks, unlike so many that are left as an eyesore. There are still plenty of packing sheds from where the fruit grown in the area is obviously dispatched to market, and the light industry in the town is all about the agriculture and horticulture. We called into the bakery, something that looks like it might become a bad habit as it was when we were in Canberra, and bought a huge bun which would feed some families of four or six. We shared it later after our sandwiches. How is it that when one is lamenting the creeping numbers on the scales, one sneaks further calories into the diet?

Donnybrook lies thirty six kilometres south east of Bunbury and is surrounded by stunning forests, winding rivers, and rolling hills, which is why we had targeted the area for our tour today. Donnybrook claims the Granny Smith apples as its own, however the truth is that the tree was brought in from elsewhere and then the fruit renamed here and the rest is history. Today Donnybrook is considered the apple growing capital of the South West and grows many more fruit varieties than the Granny Smith apples. Lady Williams and Pink Lady apples are grown as well as pears, persimmons, olives, vegetable and grapes. 

We wandered along the street, soon accompanied by a Doonybrook bogan carrying the dearest little dog, a Maltese Shih Tzu, lovingly named Cheeky Bitch. We were not impressed with the owner or the name and just hoped the new owner of this delightful little puppy would find it in their heart to rename her with something more befitting and elegant. I spotted the Information Centre and we made our excuses, wishing him luck with finding a good home for his last puppy of the litter. As it happened the Information Centre was closed, obviously not open on Saturday mornings.

We left the South Western Highway a little south of Donnybrook, and drove eastwards along the Doonybrook - Boyup Brook Road, through beautiful farmland, past dozens of apple orchards and called into a farm gate where we picked up a large bag of Pink Lady apples, probably 5 kg, all for $4, which is what you generally pay in the supermarket for just one.

The lush green grass shone in the sunshine, all the more for having been rained on overnight. In New Zealand, you would expect to find such a landscape full of dairy farms, but here there was a huge variety of activity.

At Mumballup, a locality like Lowden also passed through, with nothing really to announce its presence apart from a modest sign, we turned north toward Collie. A little way up the road, we pulled into the Glen Mervyn Dam, a popular water ski and swimming lake. Today there were quite a few vehicles across the lake, parked on the muddy shore. The forest surrounds the lake closely and there appears to be little evidence of the picnic areas suggested in the tour brochures. We did not spend too much time here, deciding the water was obviously not used for drinking given the invitation for interaction. Completed in 1969, it was built for irrigation purposes.

The Dam might have been our lunch venue, but as I said, it did not overly impress for our purposes so we continued on the twenty kilometres to the southern outskirt of Collie then turned south west onto the Mungalup Road, and soon found ourselves at the Minninup Pool, a wide stretch of the Collie River which lends itself to picnicking, kayaking and swimming. By the time we had our eski unpacked, we were the only ones there apart from three magpies who sat at the end of the table singing for their supper. Their harmony was faultless but we were too greedy to share, so they eventually gave up in disgust and left us to our coffee. It really was a delightful spot, and we were surprised that it was not busy with weekend leisure seekers.

Our first encounter with Jarrah

From here we continued on down Mungalup Road, soon on to lumpy dirt road, through patches of pine plantation dotted through the eucalypt forest. We stopped to photograph the carpet of small pink flowers filling the border between road and forest, and then continued on until we became a little lost. Navigating through the forest on the maze of poorly marked roads was like doing an orienteering course; however we did not lose too much in duplication, soon finding our way through to the King Tree.

This majestic Jarrah tree can be found up Kingtree Road which is little more than a narrow forest track, and could well be considered a disappointment if you value the destination more than the journey. This tall straight specimen might be as old as 500 years, and has, during its life, been subjected to fire, insect attack and storm, and now the gaze of those who bother to come see it. The tree is accessed by a short bitumen path and an even shorter boardwalk, ending in a platform with seats where one can consider its majesty. Perhaps we would have reacted differently if we had never seen the massive kauri trees of New Zealand’s Northland forests.


Our next destination was only a short distance away, Gnomesville, and nothing could have prepared us for this apart from having googled it first, but even then, seeing is believing. The brochure says that this is “a fun and whimsical place which is home to thousands of gnomes from around the world. The young and young at heart will enjoy a visit to Gnomesville”. This is all true, as is another that says it is a “magical home to over a thousand gnomes who have migrated from all over Australia and around the world…… You’ll enjoy the clever gnomish puns and who knows, you may decide to return to contribute a gnome of your own.”

Weird and whacky Gnomesville

The last bit is not true of us, however it is worth the drive even if you are not dazzled by the natural beauty of the area as we were. There were possibly about twenty of us wandering about this village which just goes on and on, and everyone was laughing and happy; you could not fail to be otherwise in such a place. One of our fellow tourists had been told there were three thousand gnomes in residence; I would suggest that was a year or two ago, because there must be far more now. Many of the families or houses bear dates of arrival, and a huge proportion of these are dated 2012 and 2013. So by the time you get there, the village will have become a city and have spread up into the Wellington Forest. There are already some more independent gnomes who have set up life style residences beyond the village boundary despite notices warning that they are not to do so and despite the fenced detention centre for those rebels already incarcerated.

Gnomesville began as a political commentary against the roundabout planned for the intersection of Wellington Mill and Ferguson Roads. It’s kitsch, quirky, untidy, colourful, funny, could be mistaken for a tip, amazing and lifts one’s spirits. It should be a mandatory journey for the depressed; better than Prosac I am sure. We loved it.

We were surprised that no enterprising local farmer had set up a café and shop selling gnomes. Perhaps someone will read this and take the initiative.

We finally tore ourselves away from this “whimsical” spot and headed down the Ferguson Valley, past many vineyards and cellar doors, most busy with weekend connoisseurs. We paused at Dardanup for a comfort stop and could see it was similar to Boyanup passed through this morning.

Turning onto the Boyanup - Picton Road, we headed back home to camp to find there had been quite an influx of campers in our absence. We have still much to see and do in Bunbury although we are currently scheduled to leave tomorrow morning. I think we will extend a further three days. We will decide in the morning.

In the meantime the second rugby test between the Wallabies and Lions is about to start in Melbourne, the Tour de France later this evening and the tennis at Wimbledon continues; such a busy time on the sporting calendar!