Sunday 22 March 2015

Back to Broome

Another perfect morning, another aerial pickup - except this one was more sorry than fun. We had had one last fishing expedition, trolling this time, for barra of course, but apart from a brief sighting of a dolphin, there were no fish and we had to put up with more orange rocks, more turquoise sea, more huge sky, tch. And then the seaplane came to pick us up from the Kimberley Quest and take us an hour back to Broome, over the pretty impressive Buccaneer Archipelago.
After a lot of sandbars, swirling waters, islands, scoops of sandy beaches and mangrove swamps, we reached the mainland proper which was bush. Bush and the occasional ruler-straight bright orange dirt road:
And then we were back in Broome, with a population of around 13,000 (probably more, it's hard to count the indigenous people) but feeling like London after our time out in the wilderness. Well, London with frangipani trees and lotuses and palms. And heat. Oh dear, the heat! Up around 36 degrees ("feels like 44" my phone said, helpfully), it was all getting a bit much for me; but there was no foregoing Red Sun Camels on Cable Beach.
It's obligatory, you know. And though the boy mounting me (so to speak) was crabby and hurt my foot shoving it into the stirrup (he got his comeuppance later, when a camel trod on his), the ride itself was just lovely and Chris the camel behaved himself. The tide was right out, the beach was wet and reflective, 4WDs lined the sand to watch us against the sunset, and there was just enough haze on the horizon for us to enjoy the moment without worrying about being blinded. Plus, there was the green flash. Perfect.

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