The Plymouth Hoe looks over the harbour the original lighthouse standing guard.
I was on my way back to Europe to slowly work my way to Italy for the 100th anniversary celebrations of Moto Guzzi at Mandello del Lario.
The ferry was coming in ready for the trip across to France the next day.
The sun was setting on a month back in England.
And the August full moon rising a true mark of the next phase of this adventure that commenced back in May as I headed to Morocco
It’s about a 7 hour ferry ride to Brittany from Plymouth. The coast of Brittany is just beautiful, the beaches, the rocky outcrops the racing tides of the cold North Atlantic.
I set up my camp at the municipal camp ground near Plouarzel.
And go for a swim in the cold ocean.
It was great to be back by the ocean.
The giant of gulls the Atlantic black backed gull skimming over the water.
And the moods of the cold ocean, clear blue skies one day and sea fog the next.
A schooner ghosts past the offshore islands in the fog.
Italy is a long way east and Brittany is at the western most point of France
So the cool weather meant time to make distance east.
Leaving Halls Creek there were sights to see but I had my heart set on Broome.
A stop at the big Boab on the side of the road.
It 43 years since, as a young man, since I was last riding a motorcycle up in north Western Australia, the Kimberley.
The road was unsealed and rough then.
Remnants of the old road still exist. Including the old corrugated iron shed that was the garage.
When I had some bike problems all those years ago. The owners let me use a corner of the workshop to replace the head gasket on my Norton Commando!
Finally Broome and the end of the Savannah Way crossing the north of Australia from the Pacific to the Indian Oceans.
And swim at Cable Beach. My first swim in the ocean since late June in Queensland.
With its Camel Rides,
And the Stairway to the Moon.
Given Western Australia’s covid free status and Broome’s beautiful weather it’s crowded and I had to camp 25km out of town for a couple of nights.
It was a good place to give the Steinbock a wash.
In company with the bush birds like this little Sparrowhawk
Now I have a room in a hostel in the town of Broome which is in the throws of its annual festival, the Shinju Matsuri.
But more on that next post.
Wave Hill is the town where fight for aboriginal land rights took a first decisive step with the Wave Hill Walkoff
I have been reminded that 23 August 2021 is the 55th Anniversary of the Wave Hill Walkoff.
I didn’t go all the way out to Wave Hill
After the hot dusty Bungle Bungles I was after a cold spring to soak in and such places existed on the road from Halls Creek to Wave Hill.
The first spring was Palm Spring just off the Wave Hill road.
The swimming hole was deep and cold just perfect to refresh the body.
I was going to set up camp there but a couple of locals, who had come out for a swim suggested Sawpit Gorge a few kms north offered better camping further off the road.
As I say -local knowledge is the best knowledge.
So I set up camp on a flat area above the gorge and the spring fed stream.
It was near a full moon that night.
Which shone a silver light on the Ghost Gum I was camped under.
Making it a ghostly silver in moons beam.
I have spent a long time in the outback and at this point I was only around 600km from the west coast and the Indian Ocean.
My next swim will be in salt water having crossed the northern part of Australia from Innisfail on the Pacific Ocean to Broome on the Indian Ocean.
I will finish this with Paul Kelly’s musical tribute to the Wave Hill Walkoff.