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In the south west corner of Western Australia one can surf perfect, challenging deep water waves in the morning and spend the afternoon tasting world-class wines.
The region around Margaret River has come to be defined by these two pleasurable yet seemingly contrasting pursuits. A sleepy dairy farming area until the 1970s, the dry, Mediterranean climate attracted vintners and investors in increasing numbers throughout the last 30 years. So much so that there is now a glut of grapes produced by the hundreds of vineyards located between Cape Naturaliste to the north and Cape Leeuwin in the south.
The glut of raw Indian Ocean swells will never, however, be an issue for the region’s local surfers and many visiting riders. The coastline’s 70 kilometres of jagged limestone reefs, protected bays and river mouths mean there is always somewhere to surf in almost any wind or swell size.
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| Rhys Stacker |
After four years living interstate on the east coast of Australia, I had come back for a holiday. The main reason was to visit several friends who had escaped from the capital city and our home town of Perth, 3.5 hours drive to the north, to settle in the country. I was also keen to reacquaint myself with the areas wines and waves.
Arriving in Dunsborough, the unofficial northern gateway to the region, it seemed as if things were continuing very much as they had been when I was last in town. The once quiet farming village had long ago been transformed into a playground for Western Australia’s moneyed set and holidaying families alike. The town had the feel of a small, outdoor strip mall. Clothing shops and cafes dominated the centre.
I met up with a friend who was now running a surf shop in Dunsborough. The last time I had seen him he was a diesel mechanic in the city. His change in career seemed to sum up the opportunities possible to any one who took a chance and moved to the area for a different life.
I was travelling light but he was kind enough to fit me out in a wetsuit and surfboard for our midday surf. We left the hustle and bustle of Dunsborough behind us and after driving just a few miles out of town the landscape quickly reverted to the wild west coast I had come to love. Eucalyptus trees towered over the road. Between their enormous trunks I could make out rolling hills dotted with sheep. In between vineyards covered entire valleys. Their uniform rows of gnarled vines stretched out into the distance.
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| Point Break near Dunsborough |
In the lee of rocky bay we found a wave protected from the wind and giant swell. We spent a couple of hours surfing the bright blue waves down the point and slowly, lazily paddling back up to the top for another go.
The next day I was back on the road, this time solo. From Dunsborough I headed to Yallingup to check the surf at Main Break, a popular surfing spot that was one of the first waves to be ridden in the area in the 1960s. Today it was a washing machine of rain squalls, wind and raw open swell so I retreated back to the car and continued south.
Anyone visiting the south west will quickly become acquainted with Caves Road. It’s the main coastal road linking the hamlets and towns of the area and is noted for its tight, racetrack-like corners as much as its views across the vineyards and into the karri forests.
I would come to be familiar with this road over the next few days as I followed its winding course down the coast. I would also become familiar with its dangers a I passed numerous white crosses and wreathes of flowers laid against trees on the side of the road. They were a constant reminder to slow down and take it easy through the many corners.
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| Caves Road Vineyard |
It was on Caves Road that many of the larger wineries were located and it was no tough task to pull into one when the sign indicated the cellar door was open and wine tastings were available.
Vasse Felix was the first commercial winery to be established in 1967. Since then it had grown to incorporate an award-winning restaurant, an art gallery and well-tended grounds. Despite it not yet being lunchtime I pulled in to sample their excellent range of whites at the cellar door.
Just a few more kilometres down the road was MadFish Wines. Both the name and winery building were edgier and more modern than the established Vasse Felix. But their reds still had all the hallmarks of a quality wine and I took away a MadFish Premium Red.
The south west is not just about the grape, however. Located in the miles of single lane roads criss-crossing the countryside inland from Caves Road is a gourmand’s delight. As I continued south I tasted organic olive oil, delicious cheeses and the superb product from Margaret River’s chocolate factory.
There may be no such thing as a free lunch but I certainly felt like I had just eaten one. The idea of encouraging customers to taste the products on offer seemed to be a smart one for the area’s small producers. In the space of 30 kilometres the back seat of my car was filled with enough purchased food and drink to host a party.
The wild weather hadn’t abated by the time I took the long sweeper curve of road down into the strangely named Cowaramup Bay and the little hamlet of Gracetown. So little, in fact, its only cafe was closed for the season. After a quick look at the half a dozen surfers battling the windy conditions at South Point, I did a u-turn and pointed the car towards Margaret River.
The name Margaret River has been used to describe everything from a single surf spot to the entire south west region. Located about halfway between the two capes and ten kilometres inland from the ocean, Margaret River the town has become a focal point for the region’s tourism and surfing industries.
As I drove along the main street it seemed this popularity was rapidly transforming the once quaint dairy centre. The chain stores had arrived, surf shops were as bright and glossy as anything in a city mall and there was even an upmarket wine bar. This last item was a curious sight in a place where the real locals still drove pick up trucks and wore ugg boots into town.
A plan to catch up with another old surfing buddy didn’t materialise that night. I only had his mobile phone number and had forgotten that much of the region is without mobile coverage. Instead I dropped into the infamous Settlers Tavern in the middle of town for a beer. A couple of ‘middies’ of Swan Draught were enough for me and as the band started up I retired for the night back at my room in a cosy bed and breakfast.
The next morning the weather was still too wild for a surf. I decided to head inland and then south, which would take me away from the true south west region and onto the south coast to visit another friend.
He had recently moved to Nornalup, which, along with the nearby town of Denmark, could be described as being like Margaret River or Yallingup ten years ago before the chain stores and wine bars arrived. The towns on the south coast, often just a main street, were still the kind of place you could cruise down in your city car and have the locals stop and stare as you drove past.
The upshot was I received real country hospitality at the shops and gas stations. At the latter the proprietor even filled the tank for me.
That night I was spoiled by my friend. He had recently taken on the lease of a popular cafe and raided its fridge and larder for food for our dinner. We ate fresh maron (a kind of freshwater lobster) washed down with honey wheat beers and Margaret River wines.
The next morning I was due to head north back to the city. It would be an easy run. My course had so far followed the two sides of a triangle created by the south west and south coasts. That day’s journey would complete the last side of the triangle through dry, inland wheat belt country back to Perth.
But first, I had to conquer my fear of heights.
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| Tree top walk |
The Valley of the Giants is the name given to the towering karri forest in the Walpole-Nornalup National Park. The Tree Top Walk is a series of interconnected walkways through and above the forest canopy, rising to 38 metres above ground level. Although it is apparently a safe activity, it is closed during extreme weather such as strong winds or lightning.
It was a windy day when I visited, but apparently not blowing strongly enough to close the attraction. It didn’t stop the walkway from swaying in the wind, however. At first I was a little uneasy stepping onto the metal walkway and climbing higher and higher above the forest floor. It was difficult not to look down.
The motion of other tourists walking ahead of me contributed to the swaying of the walkway and I was glad to reach the look out spots located at each corner of the structure. But soon I found my sea legs, or rather, sky legs, and after reaching the safety of the ground after the first circuit voluntarily returned for another go.
As I drove home I reflected on the changes the region had undergone in the short space of time I had been away. It is easy to complain that the character of the small towns is being eroded by the waves of tourists and investors. But on the flip side, it’s these people who support the wineries, dairies and chocolate makers and make it possible for them to exist. I’m already planning my next trip back in another four years time to see how the south west looks then.
Copyright © 2007 Rhys Stacker
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