Our 20th Anniversary trip to Dunsborough (Part I)
On December 4 1993 Husband and I became Husband and Wife. With a bit of effort all around we remained so for 20 years after that, so we celebrated by getting away for a couple of days down south in Dunsborough, Western Australia. The site was chosen for its proximity to the ocean (for Husband) and to decent granite geology for me. In a perfect intersection of the two, Husband was also keen to see a cave. I'll try and record as much of the trip here as possible; there will be some photos, but not many, because we have this weird tendency towards experiencing life as it happens.
The Drive Down
It's several years since we took a trip down south and so it was the first time I'd experienced the new freeway extension. It certainly made the bulk of the trip a direct run in the comfort of two lanes, but one much more likely to induce white line fever. We made sure to stop several times on the way down, and settled for a roadhouse sandwich for lunch. Actual points of navigation were few and signage good, so we made it to the outskirts of Dunsborough without getting lost or killing each other. We took the back way into town through the suburb(s?) and enjoyed a crawl the last couple of kilometres behind a large boat being towed thoughtfully through the back streets so as not to disturb any traffic except us. But what of it? We were hardly in a hurry.
The Accommodation
We arrived at the Bay Village Resort and Spa dead on 2pm so we were able to check in immediately. Billed as a 4 1/2 star Superior Spa Apartment I was expecting some 4.5 stars. I suspect that stars mean different things for rooms and apartments, for I've stayed in hotel rooms with more rooms than the 1-room-plus-loo apartment that greeted us. Yes, there was a spa, and I grew to love that spa for it helped me to achieve feats I'd not achieved for some time. But it *was* in the same room as the bed. And well-bonded though we are I prefer a little bit of privacy when I floss my teeth. Thank heavens the loo was behind Door Number Only.
It *looked* very impressive, decorated in Bali resort style with heavy black wooden furniture (which stuck, spontaneously disassembled itself, and was enormously impractical vis a vis actual storage capacity). All the floors were hard which is not unreasonable for a beach resort, but it would have helped if they'd actually been swept while we were there for our three nights. Yes we had a nice big spa in our room, and the grounds were nicely landscaped and there was an indoor pool, sauna, and day spa, but the place fell down frequently on the small things. One soap(!) and one hand towel for two people. Very little in the way of kitchen stuff. Housekeeping that failed to do dishes or clean the stylish but poorly designed glass bowl sink. Glass looks lovely until one person brushes their teeth, then it looks immediately grim. Reception only open 9am-5pm with a rather discouraging process for contacting the caretaker in case case of emergency outside those hours. Obviously no minibar or room service. I could have sworn blind that our price included free wifi, but that vanished. (Turns out I'd have been better paying outrageous hotel rates because something went wrong with my 3G plan and I ended up paying even more insane amounts for internet, oh well.)
It sounds like I'm complaining a lot, but I just like to notice these things. In our single (+ cubicle) room we did have SIX light switches, which was suitably hotel-like. Although the globe on my bedside light was missing... Good thing I brought a torch. The mattress and pillows were adequate. (I've since located many less than complimentary reviews of this type of accommodation at Bay Village - looks like they do a better job of family villas.)
Tuesday Evening
We rested up that afternoon, and while Husband slept in the early throws of a cold I wandered the 150m or so down to the town beach to potter along the sand and peer at shells and stuff. That night for the sake of convenience we went next door for dinner to The Pourhouse, which we discovered was a pub rather than the bistro we'd been told. There is a bistro *now* - it opened the day we left. Inertia got to us so we stayed and found a spot by a wall and had some mediocre and expensive pub food. We demonstrated our love for each other by not bringing our phones. After that I think we just went back to the room and veg'd, watched what tv could be coaxed out of the set, read, poured over maps, and spa'd. By now Husband was definitely ill.
Wednesday Morning
On Wednesday morning-the day of our anniversary-Husband declared that he felt much better after a shower and was up for a trip to Ngligi Cave. I'd tried and failed to find out when it opened and exactly when the first tours happened - rather I'd found a lot of different answers to these questions so in the end we just set off at about 9am and resigned ourselves to waiting or wandering as required.
But first - breakfast! We woke early. Too early. Early and desperately needing coffee and proper breakfast. (Not so desperately needing coffee that I'd consider the various sachets supplied in the room.) We set out at about 7am heading for the so-called "Breakfast Cafe" across the road. I thought surfers got an early start so it might be open, but no, it didn't open until 7:30am. Barbarians. We wandered into town and found the general store was open, and a bakery. Noted with interest the breakfast menu of one place that seemed to be open, but had cruelly just forgotten to change a sign the night before and was still setting up for an 8am start. By the time 7:30am rolled around I was clawing at the door of the original and unexpectedly hipster cafe. Bacon and eggs. I just wanted bacon and eggs. And coffee. Oh god, coffee.
It turns out hipster cafes don't do bacon and eggs, but I did manage to identify something on the menu that included them as ingredients, and what's a bit of artisan local sourdough bread, wilted baby organic home-schooled spinach, and heirloom tomato dressing (sauce?) between friends? The coffee, however, was bliss. Best damned cup of coffee I've ever had in my tiny insignificant life. Pretty sure I spotted locals picking up coffee too, which is always a good sign in a tourist town.
Good quality people-watching at this place. As reported on FB:
Have found The Stepford Hipster. Skinny black jeans, bright blue shoes, red hoodie (worn up, natch), thick rimmed black glasses, stupid facial hair. At hipster cafe table with four other late 20s-30 somethings sporting a variety of exotic accents and talking about lawyers and eco travel. With frequent breaks to the footpath to talk Serious Stuff into smartphone.
So - to the (batless) cave! Ngilgi Cave (formerly known as Yallingup Cave) is not far from Dunsborough, and so we got there pretty quickly. We didn't have a detailed map of the area so navigation was not entirely smooth, but we didn't kill each other in the process. Very important. Got there a handy 15 minutes before the first tour so luck was on our side there.
Here is a bit of the cave:
Yup, it's a cave, and a very nice one it was too. We didn't put much effort into taking photos, but rather watched our feet and heads as we made our way around the walkways and 350 or so steps up and down. It's a very tame tourist cave with steps and handrails aplenty, but I was pleased that a bit of bending and scrabbling was still required. My cane made it all possible and I learned to love it that day. We'd been warned that carbon dioxide levels were a bit higher down there (37m at the deepest) but didn't give any thought to that when we took frequent breaks to rest on handy benches and gasp with increasing fishiness for air. I'm hardly fit, and Husband was sick.
And here we are together, deep underground and deeper in love (naaaaw):
That's the least pale I've looked in a long time too.
We finished in the Cathedral Cavern where we were encouraged to lie on the rubber mats on the floor and stare at the stalactite-infested ceiling. Lying down seemed like an *excellent* idea at this point. We were similarly encouraged to try out the echo with song, but passed on that opportunity. So we lay side-by-side, caught our breath, and bonded some more while we had the place to ourselves for a while. Tried to capture the ceiling using the Night Scenery mode on our little camera, but couldn't hold it still for the long exposure. Let's call it Art, shall we?
Freaky. The second shot caught a change in the LED lighting display, which was very pretty throughout. The ceiling was spiky.
Once we hauled ourselves up the final steps and into daylight we fortified ourselves with icecream and a sadly fruitless search of the gift shop for an acceptable fridge magnet. I was really surprised at how quickly I got my breath back - apparently oxygen is good for me, go figure.
And as reported on FB that day:
In happier holiday news, back from Ngilgi cave. Managed the stairs and ducking ok but had to pause and catch breath several times. Perked considerably once back in normal oxygen levels. Frankly astonished actually how well I pulled up in the end, although will no doubt pay later. Spa will help. Finished the tour with just the two of us lying on our backs on handy rubber matting, contemplating the rock formations on the ceiling and marvelling at the sheer bloody romanticism of it all. Exotic lunch deferred in favour of naps all around. Poor Husband still feeling under the weather but did enjoy the cave. I asked awkward geological questions.
Wednesday Afternoon
After a bit of a rest for both of us back at the room, we made our way to Castle Bay from which you can see Castle Rock. Husband bravely kept up the rear while I positively scampered amongst the boulders. This is me hugging a rock on the beach:
I thought I was hugging, but in the picture it looks more like clutching possessively a la Gollum . What can I say? I was pleased to see it, and would have happily brought it and some of its friends home. Preeeeeecioussssss
There was a lot of horizon, so a video was called for (don't worry if you can't make out the audio - I always forget it's on but it's just me blathering and Husband saying something about dinosaurs.):
Beware the horizonWednesday Night
On our breakfast wanderings we'd spotted what looked like a reasonable Italian restaurant and headed there for the anniversary dinner. We even ordered something sparkling and alcoholic to toast our success, which is not like us at all. During the wait for dinner we were entertained by a rather bizarre argument that broke out between some locals and French visitors.
As reported on FB that night:
Anniversary dinner proved to be unexpectedly entertaining with floorshow of arguing French people and outraged locals who were told to leave, never mind paying, just get out. The police were summoned! Management apologised to every table. Food was yummy and we drank something sparkly and alcoholic. A most memorable evening.
This has been the most awesome day ever! And spa yet to come in the vain hope I'll ever be able to move again.
...and the rest will have to wait! Certainly it was one of the most action-packed and memorable days I've had in many years, all the better for being shared with my darling and patient (albeit sickly and brave) Husband.