Day 22 Purnululu National Park

Day 22 Purnululu National Park (or jiggle jiggle to the Bungle Bungles)

Today we found out what a Kimberley massage is. That's how Radar, our bus driver and guide for the tour to the Bungle Bungles, cheerfully described five hours of non-stop jolting and jarring on 200 kilometres of the worst roads we'd ever experienced, as the complimentary inclusion to the tour.
Crikey! We must have lost weight with this massage. Surely! I'm certain my bones will never be the same again. Still it was worth it .... and I'd do it again. Just maybe not tomorrow. I'm saving up for the helicopter trip at five times the cost and with none of the agony - you have yet to read of walking in the heat!

Hmmm....glad we didn't bring the Imprezza

The Kimberley colours are magnificent

Wicked Campers at the bottom?

We boarded the compact but sturdy looking bus very early, before 7am. One lunatic couple had stayed at Halls Creek the night before, over an hour's drive away, and missed the tour. A very expensive lesson indeed. All the warnings did not quite prepare us for the severity of the corrugations. There were at least five deep water crossings which a very experienced driver like Radar took very cautiously. He called one crossing "Apollo landing"where Apollo vans have been known to hit the water and break in two.  Another he reckoned we were going over the roofs of Wicked Camper vans buried in silt after becoming hopelessly bogged .... he might not have been joking!

The Purnululu Information Centre

Radar explaining where we were going

Our tour group listen attentively

Elephant Rock

Nearing the Bungle Bungles

After 90 minutes of this - speed did smooth the corrugations but there were too many bends and dips to allow us to go fast, so instead we jiggled non-stop - we finally reached the Bungle Bungles information centre and tumbled out of the bus relieved to reach terra firma, only to discover this was just a pit stop. There were 45 minutes more jolting to reach Cathedral Gorge, the first point of interest. After first having some morning tea we were sent off to trek by ourselves at our own pace to see Cathedral Gorge, and if we were feeling fit for a long hot walk, also to see the views from Piccaninny Lookout.

Could it be prettier?

Setting off to Cathedral Gorge

John waist high in grass

nearly there

Ah...here we are

Barb at Cathedral Gorge

John dwarfed by the overhanging cliffs

Cathedral Gorge was truly spectacular! It was so vast! Even though the water in the pool at the bottom was more than a little stagnant at this time of year and no water falls were active, it was still a sight to behold in awe. Feeling energetic and with time in hand, John and I set off on our return to the bus, but diverting to see Piccaninny Lookout. We trudged over an eroded riverbed that looked like lava flows but might have been eroded sandstone. It was very hot walking and the temperature was in the high thirties with the reflected heat from the pale rocks and no shade. We were red-faced and exhausted by the time we reached the lookout and guzzled greedily at our water bottles before we could properly admire the views. Despite applying lots of sunscreen and insect repellent we both looked beetroot red after we finally got back to the bus. But yay! Radar was just putting out lunch and some very welcome cold drinks under the shaded pergola area, and we flopped onto a bench and gradually reinflated with fluids. Radar said a 100 kilo plus woman on one of his recent tours had to be stretchered out by nine men and then helicoptered by the Flying Doctor to Kununurra after collapsing with heat exhaustion and dehydration doing the walk into the Gorge. It's not for sissies!

Dry river bed

Hot and thirsty

But Oh! The view!

Barb and John

Pretty

Back on the bus for more jolting

Once we were back on the bus the redness receded. It wasn't sunburn after all. We jolted another 60 kilometres round to the other end of the ranges to see Echidna Chasm. The walk to the chasm was along a boulder-strewn (dry) watercourse. Thankfully most of the walk was at least in the shade, but it was still fairly physical. We seemed to just go on and on through increasingly narrow crevices until reaching a blind end to the chasm. The kids who were on the trek with their parents loved it, and were chimneying up the sides of the chasm with glee.

The walk to Echidna chasm

Barb still smiling

Kids chimney up the chasm walls

Sunset

John's feet were tired and swollen from all the exertions. He claims it was from wearing the walking shoes, but really they were very necessary to stay stable on the rocks and uneven ground. Ok. I'm a woos! I watched a family of mum, dad and three children aged perhaps from 8 to 12 having lunch. Oh how I felt for the youngest! He really, really didn't want to eat his cucumber and tomato, but finally did so after very gentle, persistent persuasion from mum. I could see him gagging as he forced it down - mum thought he was faking but I've been there and don't think he was.  Poor lad!

The return journey seemed to take forever. In total we did 200 kilometres and felt every single one of them. When we finally reached the sanctuary of our caravan park we headed straight into the office and bought very expensive icecreams to cool off and recover. Then it was straight to the showers to refresh. A shower has never felt so good! I couldn't care less that the shower cubicle was less than clean and had no roof .... it was water. It was cool. I was clean! The sock tan I thought I had washed off ... it had been just dust.

We re-convened with our fellow travellers with whom we'd bonded over the hardships of the day at the marquee for dinner. It was very convivial and there was lively conversation over our meal. Notable was the lady from Victoria who was very critical of WA's interpretation of gravel roads. It seems Victorian gravel roads are so much better and have no corrugations and can even be negotiated in a 2WD vehicle. Righto! Then there was the retired lawyer in his 70s touring by himself and very concerned at the scarcity of grog. He was aghast that the nearest bottle shop was over 100 km away! And of course Michelle, an English girl in her late 20s or 30s travelling alone in a rental motor home. Although now visiting Australia she had lived in NSW previously and was gradually travelling around the country.  She was very keen to get onto a 4WD tour to Cape York. John shared his bottle of red with our thankful new friends who hadn't realised it was BYO. I'd had the foresight to put a bottle in the fridge in the morning - red wine chilled or superheated - you choose! Needless to say, we slept well that night after the exercise and alcohol (and some much needed analgaesia).