Treetops to Beach

Bearing up OK? We’re on the final day of the minitrip now, and one with the most kilometres though most of them boring on the Albany Highway back to Perth. For the most part though, the day was great, beginning once more with tree stalking and taking in a beautiful coastal location.

I remember Bill Bryson writing about the forests of south west WA and in particular the tree top walk. This was just 20 minutes out of Walpole and my first stop for the day. I have been to something like this in Victoria, though there was something about this one which was nicer – maybe it was a bit more wobbly and fun, and then it was a lot quieter at this time in the morning.

Giant trees also give us giant insects!

I was getting all a bit ‘treed out’ by now to be honest and was glad in some ways to be heading to the coast for a contrast. The destination was Albany, the biggest town in the region and sat snugly upon the most dramatic harbour. The southern part of the harbour is all national park, and home to striking rock formations, dramatic cliffs and windswept beaches.



I was on a bit of a mission now to find the perfect beach, with dazzling white sand, unbelievably clear water and a pristine setting. It took a couple of attempts, but I found it, all to myself on the calm waters of Frenchman’s Bay. Even the watery sunshine started to filter through the sky.

Being pretty much perfect and hard to top, I decided that it was almost time to call it a day and head back to Perth… some 450 kilometres distant. I grabbed a roll in Albany, which was a rather cute, Hobart-like kind of place and took it up to Mount Clarence, overlooking the town and harbour, and shared with big black slink lizards. More wildlife encounters occurred on the long trip back, including a stop in the forest at Porongurup National Park and joining the bogans and hoons of KFC in the southern suburbs of Perth.

It was slightly strange re-entering what seemed like civilisation, busy roads, traffic lights and a distinct absence of road signs, bringing me back to Cottesloe at nine in the evening. Congratulations must go to the Getz, who I pushed to the extreme and apart from a couple of odd automatic gear changes and cramped legs, it did the job and even managed 135 kph on the long, straight Albany highway. Like me, it was tired but I’m sure very fulfilled from a whistle stop tour of the south west… which, as they say, is definitely best.