Without fail, I always forget my passion for the Pilbara until I am back within this intoxicating region. I remember the first time I viewed the landscape with complete awe - flying from Karratha to Port Hedland at fifteen thousand feet - way back in July 1992. I knew I needed to return, on the ground, and immerse myself in this rare, magical country.
Coming back in 1997 driving an ancient campervan with three children and a difficult husband didn't quite cut the mustard for me. So, I continued to dream of the glorious colours and fantastic scenery to be experienced at a pace and time that suited me.
Exit one husband and enter another. I first met my beloved Michael in May 2009. He was still extremely traumatised by the death of his wife six months previously, but he was simultaneously craving affection and companionship. We met, I fell in love and hoped that he would eventually love me in return.
Our first outing to the Goldfields in October 2009 changed us both forever. There was another landscape to captivate me, to embrace me, to fascinate me. At that time, Michael had worked in and around the mining industry for nearly forty years. He introduced me to the Goldfields night sky, to towns and mining centres that had been left to die and be swallowed by the Great Western Woodlands, to quirky settlements and the people who lived there and to the endless horizons. His knowledge and passion for the Goldfields left me speechless (a most unusual feat). And I think he finally felt safe enough to fall in love with me.
We continued to travel to the Goldfields regularly for the next few years. I had taken up writing again and my records of our trips (warts and all) became my unpublished manuscript "Love Amongst The Goldfields". Six months after we had the best wedding day ever, Michael's affair with a battered and neglected building on Beverley's main street culminated with us buying this frightful property to restore and rejuvenate her into our very own East End Gallery. So, our trips stopped for some years whilst Michael took on this gargantuan task.
Unfortunately, winters were taking a toll on Michael's health. After nearly dying from pneumonia and a lung abscess in April 2014, Michael was succumbing to severe chest infections most winters. The cold weather did him no favours, and we discovered quite by accident during 2018, that removing him from part of winter, reduced the onslaught of becoming unwell. This realisation has led us to avoiding between six and eight weeks in the middle of each year by Heading North.
And so, we have returned to the Pilbara. Unbeknown to me, Michael's own love affair began with a year of working in and around Port Hedland and Newman when he was twenty-one. Like me, he had longed to come back.
We have been in Marble Bar for seven days now. We have fossicked over several days, visited Doolena Gorge, met a myriad of interesting people and faithfully taken the dogs for play at either the Bar or Chinaman's Pool on a daily basis. We have caught up with both Phillip and Margaret at the Visitors' Centre, bought outrageously expensive icecreams, more incredible books and been looked after superbly by Brian and Mayah at the Nursing Post. My burns are continuing to heal and I look forward to inspecting my tummy at some stage and hopefully see new pink skin. We are ploughing through our plentiful supplies and our vino supplies should last until we can replenish them in Newman.
Most hilariously, in the "Hottest Town in Australia", with an August rainfall average of 0.6 of a millilitre, has had nearly 18 millilitres, which had led to mud, mud, and more mud and damage to the Nullagine Road, which we hope to traverse on Wednesday to begin our southern trajectory.
In the meantime, we need to clean out the back of the ute, discover the source of the disgusting smell emanating from our Bushman fridge and undertake some clothes washing. And continue to be spellbound by the majesty of the Pilbara landscapes.
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