Fortunately, a kind fellow traveller in Streaky Bay had warned us to procure a G2G Pass before attempting to enter Western Australia. The process was mired with bureaucratic twists and turns, including questions such as: “Where will you quarantine if this is required?”, “How will you feed yourself at the quarantine centre you have named?” and “Have you informed the people at this quarantine centre that you will be coming?”
I had no idea how to respond to these ludicrous questions but, with the help of yet another traveller who had consulted various internet sources for advice, Davey and I worked through the five required steps, downloaded the specified app and gained almost instant approval. If we hadn’t discovered this requirement, I’m not sure what would have happened when we arrived at Border Village, for there was certainly no internet coverage there.
It was consequently a relief to pass through the heavily policed border zone and discover that the bureaucracy was satisfied with our efforts. It was an even greater relief to stop in Eucla and go to a toilet that could be sat on. No more squatting in the wilderness! Men are so much better equipped for such exigencies. Although my clothes were still dusty from the night in the desert, I felt like a new woman after that simple toilet and bathroom visit in Eucla. We had covered less than half of the distance between Ceduna and Norseman, yet the next part of the journey no longer seemed quite so long and daunting.
When there are 100 kilometres or more between each small settlement, you tend to invest more interest in each one. The little hotel at Madura, our lunch stop, was clean and welcoming, with freshly cut sandwiches. Our overnight resting place was Cocklebiddy Wedgetail Inn Motel, which offered a very basic room for $140. The decoration was pure seventies and my pillow smelt mouldy—but there was a shower! The dinners on offer included roast pork and a sticky date pudding with custard and ice cream. What more could weary travellers wish for?
On that second night, most of the Nullarbor lay behind us. During the following morning, the time on our car clock and other devices kept resetting to earlier times, almost magically, as though to encourage us to press on and finish the journey. Now there was just a long, straight run to Norseman—and part of it was literally straight, since it included, at one point, an unbending road of nearly 140 kilometres.
By this stage, my mobile had been on aeroplane mode for well over two full days. Whenever I checked it, “SOS only” or “No Service” was the response.
“Anything could have happened in the world and we wouldn’t have the faintest,” I said to Davey.
But sure enough, David’s phone began to beep with friendly messages and notifications just before Norseman. We were entering the connected world once more and leaving the stillness and isolation of the desert behind. It seemed almost surreal to see tall trees, plains of faded grass, a horizon that included hills—and little bars denoting service on my phone.
Quick Summary:
Accommodation: Cocklebiddy Wedgetail Inn Motel (not recommended, cheap rooms at a high cost)
Excellent Visitor Centre: Norseman Visitor Centre – beautifully designed with dozens of free booklets and brochures about the whole of Western Australia
