Nullarbor – no trees

‘Nullarbor’ means no trees which is obvious when you think about it. And although there are trees in the 1,200 kilometres of the plain as you cross it, there is a distinct place where the native bushland ends and the Nullarbor begins. That place is just east of the Nullarbor Roadhouse, where the Yalata Aboriginal Land ends.

We left Ceduna early on a clear calm morning. Ahead of us were three hundred kilometres to the Nullarbor Roadhouse and five hundred kilometres to the Western Australian border. For the first couple of hundred kilometres the land is like a gorgeous pristine native parkland with small undulations.

Our first stop was at the Nullarbor Roadhouse. The first thing I saw as I got out of the car was a young dingo walking close to me. A truckie had just got out of a road train full of sheep and for a moment I thought it might be his dog. But no, it was a wild dingo. A worker told me there were three young dingos hanging around the roadhouse.

We took the ubiquitous photos that everyone takes, ate our fruit and vegetables in the caravan ready for the quarantine check at the border crossing, and filled up with fuel. We had already given our honey and a big bag of potatoes to a young farmer and his family who we had camped next to at Ceduna.

We stopped to gaze in awe at the cliffs at the edge of Australia on the Great Australian Bight. A couple of lizards popped their heads out from under a sign there. At some point well before the border our phones went back by 2 ½ hours as we crossed an invisible timezone.

At the border we were met with a large covered building with boom gates and stop signs. An official asked us some questions and then inspected the car and the caravan including all the cupboards for any fruit, vegetables, honey, and other prohibited items. We were all clear and so pressed on to Eucla.

Down an escarpment there was a distinct change of flora, and still no visible fauna despite the warning signs. A mountain range on the northerly side of the road provided a repeating pattern of bluffs in the distance. As we passed a bluff, a new one would appear in the hazy distance. This went on for kilometres.

Cocklebiddy Roadhouse was the place we chose to stay overnight parked on the gravel with a token for a short shower. It is a fuel stop with a bar, restaurant, cabins, airstip, two wedgetail eagles in a large aviary, and a loud generator that operates continually.

The next morning, we were back on the road by 6am. It was overcast and warm. We headed for Norseman which is at the western end of the Nullarbor Plain and about 440 kilometres from Cocklebiddy.

The landscape was once again like a lovely parkland with changing varieties of eucalypts, bushes, and spiky grasses. The longest stretch of straight road begins after Caiguna and stretches into the distance for 150 kilometres. We saw many wild wedgetail eagles near the road and perched in the trees.

Once again, the landscape changes to empty barren white rocks under a grey overcast sky. Then the western woodlands appear with more mature eucalypts and red dirt. At Balladonia the recent bushfire was obvious as the trees and ground were black. The road had been closed for about a week stranding travelers and truckies. The roadhouse was lucky to be saved. A piece of the old skylab is displayed proudly on the roof of the building. And then, disturbingly, bushfire smoke appeared and grew thicker on the highway. We tried to tune in for updates but there was no phone or radio service. Eventually we left the smoke behind us. We guess it was smoldering stumps.

We arrived in Norseman in time for lunch and then headed north to Kalgoorlie. Norseman was named after a horse who apparently pawed the ground and uncovered some gold, thus starting the gold rush of the 1890’s in the area.

We passed the time in the car by listening to ABC Conversations podcast episodes in the morning, and then music on my iPod in the afternoons.