South West beauty spot

On a weekend away down south, Gemma Nisbet finds a haven in the hills of Balingup.

As we leave the city, an hour behind schedule, there's a distinct atmosphere in the car. Both driver and navigator have had a busy, stressful week. We're both tired and a bit hungry. A weekend down south will be just the ticket.

It shouldn't take us much more than 2 1/2 hours to get to Balingup but, heading south, the traffic is bad. In Bunbury, we miss our turn-off. Heated words are exchanged. I blame the navigator for the error, and vice versa.

But by the time we arrive in Balingup, a calm has come over the car. We open the windows to the smell of eucalypts with a not-unpleasant hint of sheep. The air is cool and dark, just the sound of frogs to compete with the hum of the engine.

We're here to stay at Balingup Heights Hilltop Forest Cottages, owned by Deb and Brian Vanallen. Former city-dwellers with a classic "tree change" story - from juggling busy careers in Perth to country life with their daughters.

For years, the couple did much the same drive as we've just done, down the highway from Perth, to spend holidays in this part of the South West. And for years, they wondered whether they could make these sojourns permanent. As Deb says: "We kept getting drawn into this idea of moving down south, so we just thought, what's the worst that could happen?"

It's Deb who emerges from the family's stone farmhouse this evening to welcome us warmly and point us in the direction of our cottage, Misty View. It's one of five one and two-bedroom cottages on the nearly 19ha property, and has a suitably cosy country feel with timber panelling and a pot-belly wood fire, surrounded by jarrah and marri forest.

Given our advanced state of hunger, just as welcome as the comfortable cottage is the edible bounty within, including a cheese platter of epic proportions. Two kinds of cheese, in generous wedges, with crackers, but also candied walnuts, meatballs, chorizo, bread, slices of smoked chicken, a smoked fish dip, salad, asparagus quiche, dense and chewy panforte plus a bottle of local Smallwater Estate wine. The traffic, the missed turn and the working week are soon forgotten.

Cottages are nestled in the forest at Balingup Heights. Picture: Gemma Nisbet

Breakfast has also been catered for with a generous hamper, and the morning also reveals the true appeal of this place. We were aware last night of being in an elevated spot - the steep, winding driveway was testament to that - but as the sun rises red over the hills to the east, flooding the landscape with light and shadow, I can see why Deb and Brian advertise this as one of the highest accommodation sites in the South West.

As the light catches the dew on the grass, making it seem to glow, I look out to the squiggle of roads and houses and trees of Balingup below. There's the dawn chorus, a distant rooster crowing, small birds twittering, a breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees. No people, just cows, a twenty-eight parrot swooping through the trees and a llama regarding me with some interest from the other side of the fence. I'm reminded of the sign we saw as we drove into town last night: "Balingup - experience the magic." It might have seemed like marketing hyperbole then, but this morning it feels entirely apt.

In town, we get coffee from Taste of Balingup, call into the heritage exhibition, admire the flowers blooming along the main street and spend a happy couple of hours rummaging through Rero's Up Country Collectables.

This shop is, the navigator declares, one of his favourites in all WA. He emerges, dusty handed, a couple of hours later with $120 of vinyl records. I browse through the eclectic, interesting selection of old stuff on sale: an Edwardian mahogany cabinet, enamel cookware and old military hats alongside a pair of 1960s souvenir dolls in Scottish regalia ($15), a reproduction 1950s child-size pink Cadillac ($280, but already sold) and a 1970s orange napkin and placemat set, still in its original packaging ("how retro can you get", reads the price tag).

Rero's Up Country Collectables in Balingup is filled with an eclectic selection of secondhand goods. Picture: Gemma Nisbet

For lunch, we drive to Bridgetown, detouring through Greenbushes. A sign advertising "Tiger's Treasures: new and pre-loved" draws us to another second-hand shop, housed in the old post office and distinguished by its Tiger Room, stacked floor to ceiling with all things tiger-related - stuffed toys, figurines, pictures, plates, jewellery and cushions.

In another room, the navigator discovers what may well be the mother-lode of vinyl records, so I head back into the bright spring sunlight, stopping to read the historical interpretive signs planted in front of almost every building on the main street.

With just a lone pair of little boys out and about, Greenbushes is sleepy in the extreme today. But, as I discover, it's an interesting little place. Founded in the 1880s following the discovery of tin in the area, timber was later added to the economic mix and the town boomed for a time, its population growing to 3000 by 1904. There's still a mine, producing lithium, and the town retains two old pubs on wide streets fringed with neat houses and tidy gardens.

The navigator emerges from Tiger's Treasures empty-handed - "most of the records weren't for sale," he says, forlorn - and we head to the lookout perched above the old open-cut mine. Here we meet a couple of grey nomads from Queensland. "Lot of heritage here," the man says. "In Queensland, they just bowl it all over." They heartily recommend the Discovery Centre in town - "we spent a couple of hours in there," the woman tells us - and later we pass them poking around in the undergrowth, happy as clams. "We're fossicking," the man says.

On to Bridgetown, over green hills dusted with yellow flowers and herds of black cows, past old sheds patched with pieces of rusting corrugated metal. Past the Tea and Sympathy Tea Rooms, and the Christmas shop ("the North Pole of the South West"), for lunch at the Bridgetown Hotel - a beefburger for me, steak sandwich for the navigator, a pint of Blackwood All Australian pale ale for us both.

Later that afternoon, after a cider tasting at the Blackwood Valley Brewing Company and a sunny spell in the Golden Valley Tree Park, we head back up to the stone farmhouse for a drink with Deb and Brian. They're coming up to the fifth anniversary of moving down here, they tell us - Brian, a St Kilda supporter, recalls frantically unpacking the moving truck in time to watch the 2009 grand final, when Geelong beat the Saints by 12 points.

Brian, Mia, Asha and Deb Vanallen on the veranda of their farmhouse at Balingup Heights. Picture: Gemma Nisbet

Originally from the Eastern States, the couple had been living in Perth from many years when they started holidaying in Kirup, a short drive north of Balingup, with their two daughters Asha and Mia, now 14 and 11. When the tree-change idea first came up, they seriously considered buying an accommodation business in Kirup, but the deal never quite came together. Nonetheless, the idea continued to appeal and eventually they found Balingup Heights.

Neither had lived in the country before, and while they both admit rural life has thrown up its share of challenges, here they're part of a welcoming community where help is at hand if it's needed.

In their time here, the pair have made some changes, installing air-conditioning in the cottages, getting to grips with managing the property's natural spring, setting up online booking, starting social media channels and carrying out recent refurbishments including new kitchens, bathrooms, paint and floor coverings to all the cottages. They've plans to build a sixth guest cottage, with two bedrooms. Most of their guests are from Perth, they say, but they've found a growing minority visiting from overseas, particularly from Singapore and China.

"Having that contact with the guests is just really nice," Deb says. "About one in 10 say they've thought of doing something similar."

As the sun nears the horizon, we wander over to the lookout, where wooden benches have been erected for guests to watch the sunset. It's a fantastic view, the kind you could sit and watch for some time as the landscape gradually changes in the shifting late-afternoon light. Deb and Brian point out the orchard in the valley, and Balingup Brook, and chat about local events and characters. Standing here, it's easy to see the appeal of this life.

The following day, the weather takes a turn for the worse and it's raining as we meander back home. In Kirup, we stop at Newy's Vege Patch, recommended by Deb and Brian for its local produce. Inside, the navigator gets the same yearning look in his eyes as when he saw the stacks of records in Rero's. It's quite some time before we leave, wallets a little lighter, with two boxes of fresh fruit and vegetables.

The next day, back at work, the navigator sends me a text message: "Can we please go back to Balingup?" And I have to admit, it's a tempting prospect.

FACT FILE

Rates at Balingup Heights Hilltop Forest Cottages are from $175 per couple per night. Stay a minimum of three nights before December 20 to take advantage of the Spring Special, which includes a complimentary farmhouse breakfast hamper, gourmet cheese platter and bottle of Smallwater Estate Wine, from $690 for three nights. The offer is not available on long weekends. balingupheights.com.au or 9764 1283.

For more on visiting Balingup, go to balinguptourism.com.au.

The writer was a guest of Balingup Heights Hilltop Forest Cottages.