The Faces of Kalbarri
We slept at the base of a lighthouse, the waves crashing onto the beach and sending spray over the dusk-lit dunes. Officially, there were only six over night spots, but we arrived too late to grab one and had to risk being told off by a park ranger. The day had been long, full of wonders and unexpected surprises.
Kalbarri National Park was right on the coast and had a variety of scenic views. As we drove, I was perplexed by how flat the terrain was and wondered how there were any hikes at all. We were keen to visit Nature’s Window, a lookout high above one of the gorges. Suddenly, I realized we were on a plateau and all the hikes would descend into canyons, rather than rising to mountains.
The walk to Nature’s Window was quick and easy, though the end bit required some side-stepping on rocks. I was distracted by the vein of green water in the gorge and nearly rolled my ankle with a misplaced step. A group of grey nomads reminded me to be careful and joked about calling 000 (the Aussie equivalent of 911) to make sure I was alright. I laughed, assuring them I was fine and would be minding my steps from then on.
There was a longer, three-hour trek along the lip of the gorge, but we had a schedule to keep. Not to mention how endless driving days were taking a severe toll on energy levels.
Another face of Kalbarri were the ocean walks and cliffside viewpoints. Looci and I spent a good hour hopping from one lookout to the next. The first was a beach hidden behind a wall of dunes with monster waves, the likes of which I had only seen in films. Were it not for the ominous dark patches indicating a shallow reef, it would have been a surfer’s paradise. Holding our ground against the wind we watched the turquoise waters curl into themselves with ferocious grace. My phone could not do the view justice.
Our next stop was Pot Alley high above the surf, where the white dunes bowed to the mighty red cliffs. A family sat on the edge and flew a drone to get a better look. Can’t say I’m the biggest fan of those things, though they can take nice pictures. A narrow path led down to a cove of sand, tucked between two juts of stone. Once again, the size of the waves blew my mind. After a few minutes of meditating on the sea’s movements, I was about to suggest we continue our journey when the incredible happened.
Two humpback whales arched out of the water.
“WHALES! Looci, WHALES!!” I screamed as I hopped sideways down the patch of sand to get a better look. They jumped only once more, before repeatedly slapping their flippers against the surface of the ocean. It was as if they knew we were watching and meant to wave farewell.
Looci and I rushed back up to the upper ledge in the hopes of catching another glimpse, but they had moved too far up the coast. The occasional burst of spray helped us track their movements; there were many more than the two we had seen near the cove.
Even with all the stops we managed to get in a good six hours of driving, and saw wild goats, sheep, and emus along the way. There were also a lot of suicidal locusts that sounded like bullets whenever they hit the windscreen or front bumper. It took us a while to realize what was making the noise. As I’ve said in pretty much every single blog regarding Western Australia, I found myself wishing for more time to explore its beautiful treasures.
