Heavenly Beverley : The Colours Of The Pilbara

Our final day in Newman was amusingly frustrating at times. Once again, we had started the morning at our typical snails' pace. We are not the most enthusiastic early risers, even when we are opening the Gallery. Which is precisely why the East End Gallery opens at eleven o'clock.

Away on our Northern Jaunt, we deliberately choose not to drive more than a couple of hundred kilometres a day. And we enjoy catching up, wandering around a town and looking past the obvious tourism drawcards.

We visited the Martumili artists' exhibition at the East Pilbara Arts Centre. We were very impressed with the size and the scale of the building and there was room to hang the biggest of works. A thoroughly mesmerising hour or so, admiring the multitude of talented artists from the north of Western Australia. The colours of the pieces just exploded off the canvases.

Later in the afternoon, we attempted to find Ophthalmia Dam. We drove backwards and forwards along the Marble Bar Road, crossing the railway lines and then retracing our steps. We really thought we'd found the access road to the dam until we ended up at the checkpoint of an active mine...

Giving up, we returned for our final evening at Oasis. We shouted ourselves dinner in the dining room. The food was surprisingly delicious with plenty of choices. I understand Oasis caters for a lot of workers, but the spread was far superior to other miners' camps.

We retired to bed early. The night rapidly cooled and when we woke in the early morning, my first thought was to turn on the heating.

I tried without success. We changed the batteries in the air conditioner's remote. Still no luck. Then my laptop refused to boot up. Finally, I noticed that the fridge was off and the microwave non-responsive. We investigated the safety switch and fuses. We fiddled with some other buttons without any positive progress. What on earth was the problem? Had the power cord failed?

Eventually, we discovered the outside pole had tripped out through a process of painful elimination. We packed up and pushed off. We stopped at Newman town centre for some jerry cans as we had worked out we would need additional fuel on our adventures east of Nullagine. Finally, at midday, we turned Lily and Digger northwards into uncharted territory.

The first half hour or so was rather disappointing. Fire had ripped through the landscape and neither the climate nor rocky ground is conducive to quick rehabilitation. Just when I was getting thoroughly bored and a tad depressed, we moved out of the grey straggly scrub into a different world. A dramatic shift towards vibrant reds and oranges, the subtle base of spinifex, the most stunning rock formations and the dazzling blue of the sky. I remembered this sense of awe as we approached the Kennedy Ranges last year. This fabulously raw and stark vista was another visual smorgasbord.

Just as we passed by the Roy Hill Mine, the bitumen stopped. We found ourselves amidst the red dust of a fairly rough gravel road. As the Pilbara consists of a great many rocks, the road was, by necessity, constructed out of rock, albeit smaller than some of the boulders we were viewing. Up hill and down dale, I was relieved that I'd decided to fasten my boobs in their seatbelts, rather than go braless. Even so, I did wonder if any remaining perkiness would be lost through a thoroughly uninvited and violent juggling act.

In spite of all my wobbly bits gyrating at a frenetic rate, we were having a fantastic drive. We roared with laughter at every bounce and wiggle, idly wondered at the state of the caravan, watched with amusement the completely unfazed cattle and drank in the beauty of the country. We were spellbound.

We eventually pulled into Nullagine just after three o'clock, as we had stopped on multiple occasions to take photographs. The town was nestled into its dramatic surroundings and almost invisible until we were on top of it.

The caravan park was basic but shady and very clean. Tracey, the manager, had lived in Nullagine for over twenty years. She loves the place, but the summer heat is beginning to wear her out. And she is trying to renovate her home in a very remote location. Plus, running the caravan park in the same conditions. A shower in the ladies' bathroom has been leaking for days - the plumber will arrive on Tuesday. Hopefully.

We had dinner at the pub and watched most of the footy. Halfway through the last quarter, the publican began turning off lights. We said our farewells and retired to the street. The last interior lights were immediately extinguished behind us. Nightlife in Nullagine ceases at eight-thirty.

Yet, there was one more surprise for us. Lights on the roof of the pub cast glorious patterns of bright colours across the street, guiding us back to Lily. We hopped into her and returned a very short distance to the caravan park.

We are looking forward to exploring the delights of Nullagine in the morning and perhaps venturing a little further afield. Michael was gasbagging with a couple of exploration workers also in the pub tonight. They knew the area well and gave my darling husband some tantalising tidbits of information.

Which he will no doubt wish to follow...