Sitting in the Grotto

From our secluded, private camp spot on the King River, we emerged back into civilization with the delightful discovery of having had the grader pass whilst we camped, and the road had turned from a rattle and roll road to a dirt highway.  If only we had this luck all the time!

We convoyed into Wyndham with Matt and Deb, and ticked off our jobs as soon as we got there; refuelling, a few fresh goods and groceries, and filling up on drinking water.  We were both amazed with how much water we’d all used.   Sitting in the heat obviously means you drink more water than you think.  Amy will have to stop having those 30 minute showers each night!

Two good looking rigs cruising into town

We then drove up to the Five Rivers lookout.  This is a spectacular, and very high, lookout over the 5 major rivers that flow into the bay and ocean around Wyndham.  Let’s see if I can remember them.....  The Durack, the Pentacost, the Forrest, the King.... annnnnd.. erm, damn, will have to look up the last.  The view was slightly hampered by a blanket of smoke haze but regardless, very impressive.

The Five Rivers Lookout

Every town needs a giant croc

 

From Wyndham we started driving down south, back towards to start of the Gibb.  We planned to pull up early in a free campspot before hitting the Gibb the next day, so were on the lookout for a place to camp.  We had camped at a roadside hideaway last trip, just down from the ‘Grotto’, a gorge and waterhole just off the highway.  We checked this spot out again, and although it looked hot and open, we parked up, setup the campers and awnings, and whaaala, felt like home!

'Camp Grotto'

Our travelling buddies

Sitting under the awnings in the shade, drinking our cuppa’s, is where the notorious music lesson started.  Glenn pulled out his didgeridoo and shakers to entertain the masses.  Matt, and his son Rory both were very keen to learn how to play.  Glenn stated that unless they were total retards, he could roughly teach them how to play within a month.  Jury could be said to still be out, but giving the benefit of the doubt, they are not retards!

After a few elephant noises and strangling cats, both got the hang of it, and were sounding good.  The shakers added a bit of spice to the impromptu jam, and the Kimberley Botch Band was formed whilst we watched the vivid colours in the afternoon sunset, highlighting a huge Old Man Boab tree we were camped next to.  Special.