The South West coast of Australia is rather like an English style countryside awash with a sea of trees. We drove for many days through tunnels of towering Karri trees stopping off from time to time to have a stroll through the woodland

We stayed at the fairytale dell that was Hamelin Bay caravan park and spent a day walking through wooded glades and sparkling caves, returning in time to go out to the bay for a spot of fishing. The waves were pretty fierce and I could catch nothing but rocks so I gave up. When Jon had the bright idea of wading into the surf for a better vantage I refused to join him since the sun was dropping and taking the temperature with it. I was wearing 2 jumpers and a coat and I didn’t think wet feet would do me any favours. I watched from the beach as Jon systematically returned all the whiting bait to the sea – albeit in a much worse state than it had left – and admitted defeat. We made our way back over the headland to our campsite, and as we mounted the ridge the moon popped into view all fat and grinning. It was a giant sized ball, which lit up the heathland all around us as we rotated to take in the breathtaking 360-degree panorama.

The following morning I went to look at the bay on my way back from the shower and was mesmerised by the line of fishermen who seem to be hauling fish out of the sea with no trouble whatsoever. They must have known something we didn’t (which can’t be hard). As it turned out the friendly neighbours came over as we were preparing to leave, and gave us loads of fresh herring they had left over from the catch the day before. Their large group consisted of 12 fishermen so I don’t think they were going to go hungry.

One of the things I had heard about the South West was the bi-centennial tree. It is a 60 ft tree that you climb to the top of and your prize for doing so is a fantastic view of the expansive surrounding forest. When we arrived at the tree I found myself rather unnerved at the sight of the 1 foot long metal rods sprouting out around the trunk with a flimsy net at the side. I was a lot more unnerved when I found myself at 40 feet and considering giving up and going back down. Nevertheless I continued to the top and was duly rewarded with a fantastic view. Coming down was MUCH worse.

That night we ate our lovely herring while sat around our personal camp fire at the shannon N.P campground set in the middle of a sweet smelling pine forest. The meal was amazingly tasty and may have been made more so by the fact that I was feeling quite thankful to be alive, and that the fish was a generous gift from a person we barely knew.