Storm

Storm

By Susan Wells

Continuing our journey west, Jenni, Cruiser and I arrived in Perth to visit friends.

We stayed for three months visiting all the sights and making the most of Perth’s beautiful city beaches.  Cruiser loved our friend’s backyard, free at last from the confines of the car.

Parties were popular on the weekends and much rock ’n’ roll took place, being the nature of things in the 70s.  Sunday sessions at The Charles were a must and the home stereo pumped out our music loudly.  Brian Ferry and Roxy Music, Santana, Led Zeppelin, Doobie Brothers, Rolling Stones all boomed out frequently, possibly all over the neighbourhood …

Moving on from Perth, we headed north to Kalbarri. The white sandy beach stretched on for miles as we sat and listened to the soothing sounds of breaking waves each day until the sun went down.

After a few days, however, the weather turned. A storm was on its way. Black clouds filled the sky as the howling wind whipped up loose sand across the beach and tossed waves into the cliff face at the edge of the caravan park.

By late afternoon the wind and the rain had turned  the campsite into a mud pool, although the tent was still standing. We decided to take off to the pub. Warmer, drier and with food possibly available, the thought was much more enticing than the prospect of a cold snack in a wet tent.

After the pub, we arrived back at the caravan park hoping the tent might have dried out a bit and we could crawl into our warm sleeping bags and comfy blow-up beds, but alas! The tent was flat in a wet heap, blown over by the fierce winds.
We grabbed our bedding and jumped back into the Corolla where we all spent a crowded night. Next day, storm over, tent only partially dry, we again headed north …

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