Hi all

So we woke in the wilderness and me and Mand made ourselves coffee and went and sat on the shore of the estuary to drink it. Now this is why we wanted to camp. The sense of peace and tranquility as we sat holding hands and occasionally exchanging a few words, welcoming in the new day was nothing short of magic.

But it couldn’t last and we packed up and headed off to the other side of the estuary to where we could go bushwalking down to the sea. We returned the water container to Neville with a hearty thanks and and he cheerily waved us off with a wink and a ‘Bye Nigel’. Top bloke. We drove for a while round to the far side of the estuary and headed off down a dirt track (‘4WD only’ the sign said, but we had the utmost faith in Priscilla and Dave) and found ourselves at a lookout staring out at our first real glimpse of Australian bush...unless you count the film Sirens with Elle MacPherson. This was almost as good. All I can really say is it’s massive (Australia’s, not Elle’s). Immense is probably a better word and in a strange way it was the first time I really felt like I was in Australia. Something which aided this greatly was our first sighting of a kangaroo. Up until now we hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the beasts, and our first glimpse was also very nearly our first accident. There we were happily bimbling down the track when out of the bush came a six foot monstrosity that very nearly bounced off the bonnet of the car. I jumped nearly as high as the kangaroo did. It couldn’t have been more than about five feet in front of us, and after the initial squealing and cheering it slowly dawned on us that if we’d been travelling just a little bit faster there’s every chance Priscilla would have needed a complete makeover. So would the kangaroo. But happily, this wasn’t the case and I have to say these are proper impressive animals. Although they’re supposed to be nocturnal so quite what the f*** this one was doing bouncing through the bush at 11in the morning is beyond me. Perhaps heading home after a night out at the local hop. Boom boom. Sorry.

Feeling like Crocodile Dundee we parked the cars and headed off down the 4WD track proper down to the beach. The walk took about an hour one way and the scenery alternated between bush and sand dunes. We passed the tracks of about a million wild animals and did our best to appear knowledgeable to each other about what each one could be. Kangaroo? Nah, the tracks are too small. Baby kangaroo? Yeah maybe. We’re like Steve Irwin. Only better looking obviously.

Eventually though we came to our destination to find an enormous sandy beach. We stood around for a few moments admiring it all, and after dipping our toes in the sub zero water we very quickly decided enough was enough and to head back to the cars and down to Busselton. The walk back seemed to take twice as long (were these hills really this big on the way down?) and we stopped for lunch before heading off.

We drove down past miles and miles of beautiful coastline (it’s a hard job this travelling) and eventually came to the town of Busselton. Busselton is famous for two things. It’s home to the longest jetty in the southern hemisphere which has an underwater observatory at the end of it. Actually, that sounds like one thing. But let’s start with the jetty. It’s long. 1841 metres to be precise. And it’s made of wood. That’s about it really. And I can’t even remember how long it is. But hey ho, it was fantastic walking down it (the train wasn’t running otherwise it would’ve been even more fantastic getting driven down it) with the wind blowing and the tourquoise water sparkling in the afternoon sunlight, fisherfolk fishing off it (although no-one had actually caught anything) and kids jumping in off the pylons. Idyllic is probably the best word to describe it. Apart from Mand pretending to push me in every few metres (ha de f***in ha) and the kind of pigeon footed shamble I adopted whenever anyone came past (you never know when someone might stumble and knock you in you know) it was pretty damn cool.

And so for that matter was the underwater observatory at the end. They take you down through four levels of sea life, from the waterline right down to the bottom which is about eight metres. I won’t bore you with tales from the deep, but they do have a fish there who is probably the vainest fish in the world. He arrived the year before with his school and when they disappeared to pastures new (well coral new I suppose) where the water is warmer and the food more plentiful, he decided to hang around. On his own. He just sits by one of the viewing windows admiring his own reflection and having his photo taken. But boy is he pretty. If I looked like that I’d spend all day preening to be fair. Rather than the two minute fungus removal I partake in most mornings. The other fascinating fact I learned is about barnacles. When they’re born they attach themselves somewhere where the water is nutritious. And they’re stuck there for life. They can’t move. The obvious question that occurred to me was how then do they get jiggy wid it (said in my best Will Smith voice)? Do you know? Well, come closer and let me tell you. They have the longest penis of any animal. According to our erstwhile guide who, incidentally, blushed throughout the entire conversation making me even happier to have asked the question. And that's comparative to size obviously. It can be from 150 percent longer than the size of their body to up to seven time longer. That's like me having one the size of a double decker bus. At it's smallest. Sweet. So all they do is unfurl their gargantuan manhood and let it float in the tide until it finds a receptive female. Or maybe it has an eye all of it’s own. Much like ours. And it wriggles past the ‘ten to twoers’ (think nightclubs) until it finds a real sexy barnacle. I think I prefer that idea. Then bosh bosh, job done. I want one. Just to see it in action. It’s be f***in fantastico. But alas Mand has told me I’m not allowed. She thinks I’d end up with the world’s worst case of penis envy and would end up trying to fight it after a few beers. Not so bad, but I’d probably lose. Strangled by penis is not something I want on my death certificate. Unless it was by my own one I suppose...

But anyway, that’s about it for Busselton. The walk back took twice as long (we stopped to exchange banalities with a few fishermen along the way - ‘Caught anything’ ‘No’ ‘What bait are you using?’ ‘Squid’ ‘Ah. Well, good luck’ ‘Yeah you too’) and we jumped back in Priscilla and Dave and headed for our last destination for the day. Bunbury. For dolphin watching. Nice.

Laters all

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