Monday, December 27, 2021

Christmas Interlude

 It's weird celebrating Christmas when it's hot. I haven't gotten used to it, and I suppose, in some ways, it makes it easier. If I'm not sipping vin chaud in front of a roaring fire, smelling the day's efforts at gingerbread making, it's easier to forget that I'm missing doing those things with my family and friends back in Delco. That said, this was my third Christmas in Australia (!?!), I've got a lease on an apartment that means I'm planning to stay for at least a bit longer, and stability makes me think I should just suck it up and learn how to do Hot Christmas. So I made some attempts. 

Exhibit A: Decor 

Gaia secured us a (free!) Christmas tree from a work colleague who was moving house and didn't want a full-sized tree to deal with. (Side note: Have I mentioned that Gaia isn't working at the Pub anymore? She's working at IGA and loving it!) Tree in place, my job was to add lights. Ornaments we would figure out... until Gaia got inspired by the bin full of cans outside our front door and decided an Aussie theme would be just fine! Inspired in turn, I decided that we could really use a fireplace. A nice hearth, decorated with "holly" from... you guessed it... more cans! And flames provided by two more brands of beverages. Really, working at a pub makes it easy to get whatever color cans you need when feeling artistic inspiration. We never quite made it around to hanging our stockings by the chimney with care, but there's always next year.


Export cans were repurposed into ornaments for the tree

XXXX Gold & Great Northern cans provided the flames...

...while VB (Victoria Bitter) cans made for nice holly sprigs!


Exhibit B: Food

Anyone who knows the Moran Family knows about Christmas Gingerbread. Grandmom's recipe, passed along to Dad, passed along to... well, God help us, me I suppose? Unless Anj is gonna take up the ropes. Regardless, it's Dad's party now, and he does a smashing job of baking gingerbread for the entire Duffy/Moran clan and extended family friends every December. 

Back in October when my old housemate Sandra dropped off a mystery box from home that had been shipped to her PO box in town, I had a total meltdown in the office at work when I smelled the spices wafting out from within. I didn't have to open the box to smell the ginger, cloves, and nutmeg that were tucked so securely inside, and the lovely "happy baking" note that Australian Federal Police left in the box along with their drug-testing sample only made me smile a bit before I started blubbering again over Dad's note. It's funny how a little thing like familiar handwriting can make you ache for the people you love. Anyway, this little box of love was sent from Havertown and included all the ingredients I needed to make my own gingerbread (excepting the butter and eggs the Papa Bear didn't think would keep too well on the trans-continental journey). I managed to wait until December to bake, but man those tears were flowing again while I mixed ingredients and smelled the baking bread wafting through the house. And when I brought a loaf round the pub and shared with my bar pals - both co-workers and patrons - I felt like maybe Grandmom would have been happy to know that her cake continues to bring people together, even here on the far side of the planet.

"Ya want some gingerbread with that butter, Dub?"


Apparently USPS thought Dad was shipping banking supplies, not baking supplies. Thank goodness AusPost realized... and even returned the bit of sugar that they took for testing!


Cinnamon and Cloves: still not on the "snort list"

Exhibit C: Spend time with people you love

Around the middle of the month, Gaia and I hosted a bunch of the pub girls at our house for a dinner and Secret Santa before Sophie & Flo left town. Soph moved to Perth this month, to try spreading her wings a bit more, and Flo moved down south as well to be closer to her boyfriend. But before they left we had an amazing little party for just the girls and then a breakfast with the rest of the Potshot crew. Soph also had an amazing going away party complete with slip 'n slide that left me with bruised ribs and not enough sleep, but man was it ever fun!

Puppy's birthday is the 18th of December and she's come home to Exmouth for the holidays, so I got to spend part of the afternoon with her and Taig (her boyfriend) and some friends! Seeing her back around the pub and town and getting hugs has been so wonderful. 

Gaia and I have started a new Christmas tradition: the Christmas Dive! Our friend Frenchy (the one I went fishing with a couple months back) had a mate in town who wanted to dive the Navy Pier, so he asked if we wanted to tag along. I don't need much encouragement to get excited about diving the Pier, so away we went and had a BLAST.

Pre-dive





Post-dive... Gaia was trying to keep the flies off her face with the towel...

...and I should have done the same because they got in my mouth. 



On Christmas Day, Gaia and I went to Mass and had Jess around for breakfast. I had work at 11, which went so smoothly, and then headed off to Jess' for dinner. The couple she lives with, Andy and Martha, are her sister's in-laws. They're Scottish immigrants and they didn't want me to be left alone. Bless them. I made Pumpkin Pie and blew everyone's minds with it (Martha thinks it'd be best as a breakfast food, her friend thought it would be served nicely alongside salad). Possibly the best part of the night was the 6 week old puppy that joined in the festivities. 

Puppy Caesar


Gaia testing out the hammock that Santa brought us!


Wearing my "Moran Holiday Spirits" hat in front of the Golden Shower tree at work

Exhibit D: Soak up the Season

I went for a Christmas Lights Tour about town with Gaia and Rhys and loved seeing all the decorations around town. People don't get into it in the same numbers as at home, perhaps, but the ones who DO get into the season's decorations commit. 

Adam and Jules from the pub have a 3-story tree on the side of their house!

A few weeks back I woke up from an afternoon nap to the sound of Christmas Carols wafting into my living room. I popped on some shoes and wandered towards the sound only to find a massive concert going on at the park in the center of town. I meandered around, said hello to people I knew, and soaked up the sounds of the season. 

Snow (or any precipitation, for that matter) is so tied into the feeling of Christmas for me, but Exmouth rarely sees rain, let alone the more frozen varieties. So with a full moon coming a few days before Christmas, I was happy to head up to the lighthouse to watch it rise over the Gulf and imagine it was nature's way of ushering in the season.

Sunset at Vlamingh Head Lighthouse


A random guy snapped this photo of me on Tessie's roof and offered to send it to me afterwards

Moonrise over Lighthouse Bay


I'm still not sure whether I managed to fully embrace Hot Christmas after all that. But I think my efforts did make a difference. And when Feliz Navidad was the recessional hymn at church on Christmas morning, every single part of me could imagine being at home, dancing around the kitchen like a loon with my Dad, with Mom and Anj laughing and watching us. So maybe I got there in the end after all. 

Monday, December 20, 2021

"We are not completely normal" pt. 4

From Home Valley Station we had just one more stop along the actual Gibb River Road and, much like the first two stops (Windjana Gorge and Bell Gorge), it was located pretty darned close to an actual town: Kununurra. As such, there were a LOT more people there. It's the fast and easy way to say you've seen the Gibb - just visit the places within a few hours of either Kununurra ("kun-uh-NAR-uh") or Derby and save your car's suspension the k's and k's of rugged dirt roads. As the last few weeks had shown us by that point, we didn't have that much sense. 

There was a definite sense of sadness that a good thing was ending as we left Home Valley to carry on to El Questro station; the dirt roads ended and went back to pavement. After weeks of loud driving it was almost eerie to drive nearly silently again, along smooth, tidy roads. To carry on conversation without yelling, to have belongings stay put rather than rattle about and fall to the car floor, to be able to open the car windows without concern about the car in front's dust cloud; changes were afoot, and it felt like the beginning of the end. Thankfully, though, El Questro made us work a little bit to get there. We arrived late in the morning and had to do two creek crossings to get onto the property. The first was a quick and easy one, but the second one made me a little bit nervous about Tessie: it was probably the deepest crossing we'd yet encountered and I was happy when her nose started going up the bank on the far side! If her entrance was made to feel rugged with the water crossings, El Questro was a feast of sanitized Gibb for the senses. Tessie had barely stopped dripping water from her sides when we pulled up next to a neatly manicured pasture with a sprinkler system going at full tilt. Sleek horses and miniature donkeys roamed about, and shiny 4WD cars were parked around a full lot. Gone were the dust-coated vehicles of the Gibb - here be city-slickers! If Home Valley had felt like an oasis in the desert, El Questro was a bit like Disneyland: very corporate looking staff uniforms (though made by a country-folk approved luxe brand), an artist-in-residence, posters advertising day tours scattered around the beer garden and food canteen. Don't get me wrong: it was beautiful. And the staff (much like at Disney) was wonderfully friendly. But it was surely a different kind of Gibb than the one we'd been traveling for the last weeks. 



We'd been in casual discussions for the last few days about how we might spend our time at El Questro. I'd been pretty clear that I wanted to do a full day of horseback riding and didn't mind going it solo if no one else was inclined. Some of the others really wanted to do a helicopter tour when we got to the Bungle Bungles and weren't sure if they would want to do both, but when I asked about it at check-in, everyone rallied and said they were on board. So we booked in for the next morning! In high spirits, we made our way down to our campsite for the evening on the banks of the Pentecost River. Some napped, some fished, some just lazed about, but we all soaked up the quiet of our private campsite, Harrier, and enjoyed the beautiful afternoon in the breeze. Though we still had a few days of food provisions left in our cars, none of us had missed the smell of burgers and fries wafting through the reception area. Votes were taken and we all piled into cars to go back to the homestead for dinner. We'd seen signs indicating that it was open mic night, and cold tap beer and a burger was a siren's call. We didn't have a shower at our private site, so we thought we'd kill two birds with one stone and shower while we were back that way as well. It was so. much. fun. Beer and burgers turned into a whole evening out enjoying the live music and the incredibly talented staff who did most of the open mic singing. 


Gaia at least had some leg room on the way back to the homestead

In the El Questro beer garden

Satisfying though it was, we didn't stick around too too terribly late: we had an early morning date with some horses after all! So back to the site to drift off to sleep with the sounds of the Pentecost River in our ears. 

By this point in the road trip, Gaia and I had our morning routine pretty well set. Whoever was out of their swag first would boil the kettle for morning tea and maybe, if we had some avocados, make toast for breaky. Most of the time Gaia was up first (many of you will be familiar with my 2-hours-until-I'm-awake timeline in the morning), but we were riding horses on Saturday! So I was up early, full of excitement, and got to capture these rare images of a just-awakened Gaia. Truly art.

She didn't think it was as glorious a day as I did... yet. 

Trying to get motivated to stick her arm out for the tea I left next to her shoes

The morning rolled pretty quickly from there. We had to change campsites that night because of booking limitations, so we packed up camp and made our way to the horse paddock to meet Gwen, the head horsewoman, and Ellie, our other guide for the day. We didn't find out til we got there, but we were the only ones signed up and basically had a private tour! The plan was to ride through the station property to Zebedee Springs, a series of thermal pools in the station, where we'd stop for lunch. Then slowly we made our way back. All told, it was about 6 hours on horseback with really lovely staff to chat and laugh with all day long. Rob Roy, my trusty steed, proved to be lots of fun to ride. He didn't care much for plodding along at a walking pace, but he loved to trot and canter - so good!


GRC with a massive boab in El Questro


One of the perks of doing the tour we chose was the lunch stop at Zebedee Springs. It's one of the big attractions of El Questro, and they make it feel exclusive by closing the springs for a few hours every day so that they're only open to folks on tours. They time it such that each tour group has the springs to themselves for a tiny bit, and because our tour was rather inadvertently a private one, the GRC had it all to ourselves for about 25 minutes! After a morning's ride through the scrub brush, it was so refreshing to hop into some thermal springs and just soak. 



Because no Aussie lunch is complete without a beer, I guess



After a beautiful day spent riding, soaking, and laughing, we headed back to the homestead. In thanks, we invited Gwen to come round the beer garden so we could buy her a drink or two. Her partner, John, had delivered our lunch to us at Zebedee, so we invited him along too! Such a great idea: the two of them were hilarious and kind and entertaining, even after spending the day hard at work making sure WE were having a good time. And so another evening was spent in the beer garden at El Questro, full of joy and high spirits. 

Next morning we really wanted to get out and see more of the station, so we went on a long walk through El Questro Gorge. It was a hot day but the whole gorge was filled with Livistona palms, making it feel like a tropical paradise, and the creek running through the gorge held enough little pools to cool off in that we barely had to break a sweat. Sheer walls covered in giant ferns, dripping roots from fig trees atop the gorge, and a thick cushion of roots from the Livistona palms made for a green, lush wonderland. The gorge walk itself was pretty straight forward up to the halfway point, where there was a beautiful swimming hole created by a giant boulder that blocked the full width of the gorge (a narrow point, to be sure, but still). From there, we had to climb over the boulder, no mean feat, to continue the walk. I wasn't sure we were coordinated enough to manage it (read: that I was coordinated enough to manage it), but we persevered! And man, the waterfall at the end of the gorge, tumbling into MacMicking Pool, was truly one of the most beautiful I've ever seen.

MacMicking Pool

El Questro Gorge

Entering El Questro Gorge

Poor Oceane is afraid of heights. Bless her cotton socks (*one of my favorite Aussie-isms*), she persevered despite some really hectic stretches of hike. On the return trek, she asked me to take this photo of her and Jess so she could show her brother how she had to navigate slippery, moss-covered rocks to continue on - and she did!



Can you see Oceane and Jess just by the plant line?

On the walk back we also encountered this fellow and were very unsure of how scared we were supposed to be... this is, after all, the land of the King Brown snake and Death Adder:

We gave him a wide berth, just in case

It was a long, hot day, filled with beauty, and I nearly lost one of my hiking shoes when we had to slog thigh-deep through some marsh to get back to our cars. Magic.

We headed up to a pretty look out for the sunset and soaked up the last of the day's light, contented. 



Our last morning in El Questro dawned full of promise and plans. We had a smaller drive day to get us to the free camp site we planned outside Kununurra, but we wanted to hike Emma Gorge on the way out. It's an easy walk, especially compared to our efforts from the previous day, but it ends in this deep ravine with a pool that just makes you believe in magical places. After having MacMicking Pool all to ourselves the day before, and Zebedee Springs the day before that, it felt a little crowded to have other folks around while we swam, but it was still so worth it.



On the way back to the car, I hiked ahead to have some me-time. We resigned ourselves to being back on paved roads, so the tires had to be re-inflated after the last few weeks of running on low pressure over the corrugations. We left Emma Gorge and had one final stop to make along our Gibb River Road journey: the driving conditions sign that signified the end of the road. 


Just after the sign was one final little swimming hole called The Grotto. It's a snaky little trek down into a pit, but the fresh, cool water, warm rocks to bask on, and two rope swings made it a great place to unwind a bit. We shared it with a few families with kids who were excited to have some Big Kids to do the rope swings with them. 


Handy little staircase cut into the rock




The Grotto was the last little bit of Gibb River Road magic, but we still had much to do and see, plenty of it filled with wonder. But that afternoon, it was hard to see, despite the day's beauty. That afternoon, I just wanted to float in solitude in quiet pools, but that wasn't in the cards. So the loud sounds of my air compressor, and of happy screaming children, and of my tires driving down paved roads once more brought me back to reality, and the drive to our campsite at Button's Crossing, paved roads and all, felt like a let-down. You can't be happy every day of a 5 week road trip, I guess, or I can't anyway, and leaving the Gibb behind put me in a funk. It wasn't helped by the fact that Gaia and I ran over a snake that afternoon. It was stretched across the width of the road, so there was no chance to swerve and avoid it, but I was pretty devastated. The worst part was that it didn't die right away. We didn't know if it was poisonous or not, but I didn't want to leave the poor thing to suffer so we carried it off the road with a (very long) stick, and then killed it with a rock. From starting the day off so well, it was going remarkably downhill. We got to Button's Crossing and I picked fights with everyone over the camp site, over dinner, over where to set up our swags. I really wasn't at my very best. But thank goodness for friends who know me well enough to just ignore me completely when necessary, and leave me to my own grumpy devices. At least until dinner, when they introduced me to condensed milk in a tube, and reminded me that joy can be found in other places than remote bush treks - sometimes it's found in supermarket aisle 5. 

To reach Kununurra the next morning, we took a shortcut: a water crossing over the Ord River called Ivanhoe Crossing. It's a paved "road," but you need a high clearance vehicle to do it. Our cars were definitely up to the task, and we had so much fun that we did it four more times! Part of the reason for this enthusiasm was a guy with a drone who asked us to drive it again so he could shoot some video of us doing the crossing! So cool. 

Friendly reminder to respect the locals

Ivanhoe Crossing

We popped into Black Rock Falls that morning, as well, but the dry season was well under way and there wasn't much in the way of falling water. What there were, however, was heaps of butterflies!




On the way into Kununurra, Gaia and I pulled into a little service station to get some more fuel. We were nearly running on fumes at that point, and the cheapest spot was a little way out of town. Tessie was filthy and covered with classy little bits of poetry on her windows, mostly courtesy of Mia, and the guy who was filling us up with fuel couldn't help but notice. He was a mild guy, with a very dry sense of humor. When we asked how his day was going he said "happy as a clam at high tide." During our chats (we had to get a lot of fuel, so we had time), he suggested that we might, perhaps, want to wash Tessie off a bit. That if we were his daughters, he wouldn't want us driving around looking like hobos, and that, if we pinky promised not to tell anyone, we could use the truck wash station around the back. We were thrilled. So he got us set up with the pressure washing hoses and let us go to town. It's funny how God sends us angels when we need them; after the previous day's highs and lows, he was just the sort of person we needed to meet. 

After Ivanhoe and fueling up, we were ready for some food. Hanger wasn't our friend on the trip, so we were all happy to avoid it. The evening that we spent hanging out with Gwen she had turned us onto Ord River Rum, made by a distillery in Kununurra. They did tastings and served lunch, and the lady at the visitors center said they had the best tacos in town. That was all we needed: away we went!





Some good rum and good food was what we really needed, and then on we went, headed towards Kununurra and Lake Argyle. This was supposed to be the last post but here we are.... not on the last GRC post. 'Til next time!