Screech of a peacock arouses us. At dawn, of course. On this day, as always, we have ambitious plans. We will ride the cult Gibb River Road. 600 km of gravel with several places to visit. But first visit to Broome, where with a bit of luck you can see the wrecks of Japanese aircraft from World War II protruding from the water. We do not have happiness, but we visit Cable Beach one of the most beautiful Australian beaches.
Time is chasing so entering Gibb River Road we do not even have time to check what exactly the word “road closed” means. We’ll find out, but later. The views are breathtaking.
We are unanimous. It was worth it. Unfortunately, we can not take advantage of the planned scenic attractions, because the roads leading to them are closed. Upss. What to do such a fate of the traveler.
Fuel is running out, so we refuel at the only 300 km gas station. I get the key to the toilet (a phenomenon typical in this part of Australia, because although there are no human settlements in the area, the toilets are locked). We are coming back but it closed. It turned out that the only station in the area is open only to 16. Whoo, how happy and lucky we are. We arrived 5 minutes before closing time.
We can continue our crazy journey. Only 200 km and there will be a campsite. The campsite was just closed. Information that you should not enter the campsite under any circumstances sounds ominous. It is dark and we are tired. There is no choice, the next campsite is 120 km away. We can not do it? If not us, that who? We drive. Nerves strained to the last limits. It flashes and begins to rain. Fortunately, briefly. Victory. We arrive at the place. On the gate we find the information: “In the rainy season, we are closed. We invite you from March 1. ” Damn. We do not know how to laugh or cry. We decide to enter the campsite. We see lights, a backlit pool, we hear working equipment. Not one man! We are walking, we are calling. Nothing. Atmosphere as in a bad horror movie. And there is the idea that Australia has Anglo-Saxon law, meaning “my home is my castle” which means more or less that they can shoot us without warning because we entered the private area. With a soul on my shoulder, but we stay.
– Dariusz Skrocki
Poznan lawyer, passionate about sports and traveling. A dozen or so years he practiced horse riding, winning medals in regional and national competitions. Currently an avid triathlete. By 2017 he completed 26 triathlon competitions at different distances. Pursuing his travel passion, he visited all continents except Antarctica.