We are happily ensconced at the Yurlu Caravan Park on the outskirts of Newman. The site was a former mining workers' camp, so the space is a tad sparse, though the gardens and trees are growing with abundance after three years of regular watering.We managed to snag a grassed powered site, so the dogs have a cool surface to lie on.
The Marble Bar road which stretches from Marble Bar, through Nullagine and onto Newman is frankly awful. Michael, used to negotiating gravel roads, lost his cool with the relentless corrugations yesterday. He kept trying to find the "sweet spot" somewhere in these horrendous conditions, but failed miserably. An hour from Marble Bar southwards saw us achieve forty-seven kilometres. Another nineteen kilometres until we finally moved onto the blessed hardtop at Roy Hill took another thirty minutes. Yes, we could have tried to travel faster, as were all the mining companies' utes, but they actually don't care if their vehicles fall apart.
The Marble Bar to Nullagine stretch included about ninety kilometres of gravel. The direction of the wind filled Will with unimaginable levels of dust over everything, including inside cupboards, drawers, on top of all our crates and through our bedding. The worst was the breakages - glasses and the second last of Michael's precious coffee pots - and the spillages in the fridge. Somehow, screw tops disengaged from glass jars, splashing their contents throughout this space. The violence of the corrugations were evident when I found smoky sauce had permeated through every nook and cranny. Twice I have cleaned the entirety of Will's interior. Each time, this process has taken between two and three hours. Yesterday afternoon, our fridge appeared to have conducted a miniature Valentine's Day Massacre within its confines. I must confess to an extended tanty during this second cleaning operation.
One (slight) consolation was the breathtaking scenery. Due to our snails' pace, we were truly awestruck by the incredible landscape and stopped frequently for photographic opportunities, All in all, the trip from Nullagine to Newman took just over three hours, the last nighty minutes covering ninety kilometres on beloved black tarmac.
I now have mixed emotions about tackling the Marble Bar Road ever again. I am over the Pilbara dust. I have no problem leaving Will the caravan in Marble Bar and tackling the surrounding gravel roads within the airconditioned comfort of Lily the Pink. Unless the Marble Road is miraculously bitumenised in the next twelve months, Nullagine will sadly be removed from our agenda.
Patient passenger...
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