Heavenly Beverley : Why Writing A Post When Tired (And Grumpy) Is Always A Bad Idea...

I actually started this post yesterday afternoon as we pulled into the Merredin Tourist Park. I had debated long and hard about continuing with a Final Push home and finish this extraordinary journey. That would have been a disaster - driving into the sun and then in darkness to arrive at Station House overtired and cross to face a cat hair infested bed. Why had I even contemplated that scenario?!

Instead, we wisely stopped in Merredin, which is a very attractive Eastern Wheatbelt town with Federation and Art Deco buildings and multiple attractions. The caravan park is excellent with plenty of mature trees, clean facilities and proximity to some off-lead antics for Stella and Pip. An evening romp was thoroughly enjoyed by all of us.

We had travelled from Kalgoorlie, via Southern Cross, on the very edge of the Wheatbelt before we reached Merredin. Southern Cross's claim to fame was a fenced dog park, tucked away from the highway, with water, shady picnic tables and benches, agility equipment and plentiful pooh bags. What a find!

The road between Kalgoorlie and Merredin is home to the magnificent Great Western Woodland. That section of the Great Eastern Highway is still to be upgraded, so the lumps in the road led to a rather bumpy ride. Michael drove between the Borrabin Memorial and Southern Cross, allowing me the luxury of a midday kip. Just outside Southern Cross, I woke, refreshed, and took over for the last hundred-odd kilometres to Merredin.

Caz, manager at Merredin Tourist Park, checked us in efficiently and cheerfully after we'd enjoyed a leisurely drive around the town on a sleepy Sunday afternoon. Just to keep us on our toes, the caravan door had spontaneously swung open in the middle of Merredin and upon hooking up to the caravan park's water, we were only able to turn on "hot"...

Being the penultimate day of this latest trip, I thought I'd dutifully record the events for posterity. What flowed from my fingers was boring and miserable and utterly lacking in humour. And so, this morning, after toileting the dogs at the very brisk hour of six-thirty, I decided to let Michael snore peacefully for another hour or so and edit this self-indulgent tripe into a piece hopefully worth reading.

To say this trip has been entirely different from our two previous expeditions away from the Wheatbelt winters would have to be the understatement of this century.

So, in no particular order, here are some truths we have learnt from five memorable weeks away -

travelling with dogs is an enormous challenge, particularly with a young, boisterous and joyous dog like Stella. Sometimes this is definitely not fun.
driving is tiring. I didn't realise just how much until I took over the majority of this task. Some evenings, I was just stunned by mental exhaustion.
we were particularly inept being ready for a ten o'clock departure from caravan parks.
that the next incumbent to our spot in the caravan park would often be lined up, almost revving their engines, as we were frantically throwing the last items around in order to leave.
we are not like most Grey Nomads. We don't eat, shower or rise at set times. We were endlessly amused by the rigid routines of some of our fellow campers.
coastal resort towns are not for us. They are full of riotous children, harassed parents and easily irritated seniors. Having said that, we did meet some fabulous travellers Just Like Us.
beach sand still permeates all nooks and crannies of the bedding.
drought-ravaged country is not pretty and can disappoint due to the memories of greener times.
some tips are more interesting than others...
never undertake a trip just after major surgery!
IBS did occasionally severely cramp my style.
Stella always found ghastly items to consume (mostly bones).
the spectre of the 1080 baiting programme was always in the backs of our heads.
most council-run caravan parks are cheap with clean ablutions and wonderful facilities, particularly in the Wheatbelt. Onslow's Ocean View was also council run in a beautiful location, though more expensive.
Onslow and Tom Price would have to be my favourite Pilbara towns.
having said that, the Newman Tourism Centre deserves a gold star for accommodating campers and caravanners without a functioning caravan park for visitors!
Yalgoo and Sandstone were unexpected gems and we will return to both towns.
sometimes information is totally incorrect. The Agnew pub is no more. The hotel has been completely erased and is not open for passing trade!
the Great Western Woodland is just beautiful and remains one of my favourite locations.
the caravan's air-conditioner for both heating and cooling was both reliable and welcome.

Would we travel with the dogs again? Absolutely. Particularly if the interstate borders ever open again and we can travel to Queensland for a reunion with family.

Would we take them on shorter winter breaks within Western Australia? Possibly. If we could procure the services of dog-loving house sitters, we might consider leaving them at home.

Would we take them on quick summer breaks down south if we can get away? Probably.

All is currently well in our world. Michael has risen and is waking up in front of his laptop. The dogs are snoozing on our bed. The caravan is snug in the morning sun.

Many thanks to caravan park manager Caz, who has kindly allowed us some leeway for the dreaded ten o'clock departure!

Time to tie that yellow ribbon around the old oak tree.

Previously, in Gwalia, where we stopped to change a slow puncture -