Broome

Broome was entirely different from what I expected. I had imagined a sandy coastal town full of hippies and palm trees. There were definitely hippies, and plenty of sand, but unless you were at the beach surrounded by turquoise water, it felt like any other red Outback town in the center of the country.

There are a few special things that set Broome apart from other Northern Territory (NT) seaside towns. One was the stairway to heaven which only happened for a short period of time every month when the moon hit the water at the exact angle to create the illusion of a stairwell of light. Unfortunately, we were still in Darwin during those days and missed the natural phenomena. Another oddity was a collection of dinosaur footprints at Gantheaume Point, which were only visible during low tides of a specific depth. A depth that was occurring the day after our planned departure. Camel rides across Cable Beach at sunset and the oldest outdoor cinema in the world were the other notable features…I’ll get more into those later.

Since we weren’t likely to spot any fossils at Gantheaume, we ventured down to the Port of Broome for an alternate viewing opportunity. The footprints looked like the impression of a giant’s plate in the rocks and could be easily confused with the circular indentations left by collected rainwater. That was unless you knew what you were looking for, which after having spent an entire weekend around fossil footprints in Bolivia years prior, I did.

Broome was the first alluring beach we had seen since the east coast and after all the desert drives, I wanted nothing more than to fling myself into the sea. The chance of deadly box jellyfish and sharks, even in the off season however, kept my feet planted on dry ground. Instead Looci and I meandered among the scarlet rocks and watched an elderly couple casually wade into the tranquil waters.

Sun Pictures, the outdoor cinema, was showing Lion King just after dusk. We had attempted and failed to procure tickets online a few days before, only because the website failed not because they were sold out. After a couple unimpressive beers at Matso’s Broome Brewery, we grabbed snacks at a petrol stop, and entered the cinema prepared with pillows and blankets.

I imagine it looked much as it had when it opened. The proprietors had done a good job preserving the old Hollywood cinema feel. The seats resembled reclined lawn chairs, half of them were out under the moonlit sky, while the rest were tucked under the canopy of the theater. A large grassy area occupied the space directly in front of the screen, and the toilets were hidden directly behind it.

Planes and helicopters passed overhead, drowning out bits of the film. We didn’t mind; we were there for the experience as much as the film.

Our campsite was a bit odd; it was a large dirt lot with a shower block and a kitchen. There were other vanners like us, but there were also people living in makeshift shelters, using cardboard for flooring and milk crates for seats. It wasn’t really our vibe, so we departed with the rising sun and breakfasted on the hilltop above Cable Beach.

The water was visually addictive, and though we spent the entire day there, I’m sad to say I didn’t take any pictures. After a helping of the best French toast the entire trip and a leisurely yoga/meditation session, I descended the steps down to the white sand beach.

Lifeguards patrolled a small section of water, indicated by two flags. The rest of the water was essentially: Enter at Your Own Risk. After a quick dip in the monitored waves, I stretched out on the sand and watched the crabs sneak out of the cubbies and roll sand into tiny balls. Any time I moved a centimeter they would flee back below the surface. I wondered why they spent so much time creating the little balls, it wasn’t like they were doing it with sand from out of their holes. Perhaps it was some sort of mating display; the crab with the most intricate display attracted the most partners.

Around low tide Looci and I tore our eyes away from the captivating waters of Cable Beach and drove down to Gantheaume Point. We knew our chances of fossils were slim, but it was worth a try.

Long story short, we didn’t see any fossils. The views of the red rock contrasting with the deep blue waters, however, were breath taking. After a little excursion amongst the tide pools to no avail, we called it quits and headed to Tarangau, a beautiful little caravan park we had booked for the night, for quick showers.

Neither of us wished to ride the camels at sunset, but I longed to watch them crossing the path of the sunset. They meandered along the 4WD portion of Cable Beach, so that’s where we waited for the sun to dive below the surface of the sea. There was something magical about the silhouettes of those strange humpbacked creatures strolling through the final fragments of daylight.

One thing we didn’t miss were the Town Beach night markets, which only happened once a week. Per our usual, we didn’t buy anything, but we enjoyed snoofing the stalls and listening to an old guitarist dust off songs from the past and bring them new life.