Young Travel Writers: Patrick Morrison in Karijini
A lucky glance out of the window rewards me with a bird's-eye view of the spectacular landscape. The sunrise over the clouds gives way to the vast expanse of spinifex upon chocolate, that unique flavour of the Pilbara. The wheels of the plane touch down at Paraburdoo, kicking up the red dust. We step out on to the tarmac, the sea of fluorescent jackets following behind. To think, just 1 1/2 hours ago we were walking across the tarmac under the cold drizzle of a darkened Perth sky. On some days it takes me longer to get home from school.
After leaving the house at 5.30am I realised I had forgotten to bring anything for the plane, so I pulled out the in-flight magazine from the seat pocket in front of me: "#1 Choice in Big Trucks" read one full page spread; "Man Shed: $3500" read another. While FIFO workers made up most of the flight, they weren't the only ones "flying out". The Pilbara is also a holiday destination in Perth's backyard, perfect for everything from relaxing getaway to adventure.
MORE FROM OUR YOUNG TRAVEL WRITERS: Zeke Okely in the Pilbara
It is just under a one-hour drive from Paraburdoo Airport to the town of Tom Price which, despite no longer being completely owned by Hamersley Iron, is still very much a mining town. We stop at the entrance, which consists of a railway overpass proudly proclaiming "Tom Price - Top Town in WA" for, at nearly 750m, this is the highest town in the State above sea level. Up on the railway is one of the famous iron- ore trains from the Mt Tom Price Mine just around the way, so we get out of the car and wade through the spinifex to get a closer look.
The train snakes off into the distance either way; we later learn this would be 236 carriages long, give or take a few, all loaded with iron ore on its way to Dampier.
We hop back in the car and drive into the centre of town. With rows of houses, green lawns and red-tinted streets, Tom Price is home to about 5000 people at any one time. A mural adorns the side of the carpark as we stop in a cafe frequented by tourists and workers in hi-vis clothing. Then there's another drive through the dust, this time to Karijini Eco Retreat in the heart of Karijini National Park.
We cross another railway line before entering the park, and continue on to the retreat. We have been told we will be sleeping in tents but what we haven't been told is that these tents have king beds and ensuites. While the retreat does cater for BYO or caravans, we stay in the Deluxe Eco Tents, with plenty of to room to sleep up to four people.
These are dotted across a large part of the retreat, nestled in among the landscape a comfortable distance from one another.
The retreat also offers an alfresco restaurant, where we stop for lunch, and also where I learn that crocodile and emu are actually quite delicious.
Being towards the northern end of the park, the retreat is in the main tourist area, with its spectacular gorges. It's only a 10-minute walk to Joffre Gorge but we decide to leave that until later and go for a short drive to Dales Gorge. We've been told Dales Gorge is home to one of the nicest natural pools in the park, Fern Pool. Sure, it's a bit cold, but we are willing to brave it for such a rare opportunity.
I don't notice the gorge until we are upon it. There's no gradual slope, no slight indicative rise, just an enormous chasm carved into the earth. As we climb the stairs toward the bottom, we pass a construction site, something I wasn't expecting to see halfway down a gorge. I am pleased that the ground feels really secure - it is mainly solid rock - but I remain constantly aware of the sheer drop to my left. Once we get towards the bottom, the spectacular Hancock Falls comes into view, with what I assume is Fern Pool at the bottom.
Fern Pool is surprisingly large, with a waterfall at one end and a boardwalk on the other. After a quick conversation it is decided Zeke will go in first to test the temperature but as soon as I get in I realise it is fine. The pool is considered a sacred place to the indigenous people of the region, and it's not hard to see why: its emerald green waters give it a mystical quality that is hard to describe.
As we drive back to the retreat, I really start to sink into the landscape, the constant clinking of pebbles against the four-wheel- drive, the trail of red dust in its wake. The trees are only twice as tall as I am, three times at most, while the landscape towers above and carves into the earth. It's different from a forest, where the beauty comes from being enveloped beneath a canopy: this is something much older, and it's the earth that dominates here, life merely clinging to the surface.
