I’ve written posts and shared photographs of Broome, Western Australia before. Some 2000+ kms north of Perth it is renowned for the rugged coastal beauty. Sipping a cold one at Cable Beach at sunset watching tourists enjoying a camel ride is the norm in the evenings. Few venture further. The Kimberley region in Western Australia is beautiful, vast country, but expensive to visit and/or explore.
Some 200+ kms further north of Broome is Cape Leveque, Cygnet Bay, Lombadina, Beagle Bay and other beautiful coastal places. To access them is part of the beauty of the region.The road out of Broome is initially a sealed one. Then comes the fun part!About 90kms of unsealed road. I’ve driven up here with others on four occasions in different weather conditions. It has always been an adventure!Sometimes one drives through deeply gutted and mousse like pindan (red) earth.At other times one eats dust.The road etiquette is pretty easy to adapt to. Ride the ridge to allow oncoming traffic pass safely.
I love this journey! Although the area is gorgeous, it is the trip that is a highlight for me. The gamble whether it will be dusty and bone crunching due to corrugation or dicey because of the damp, just adds to the enjoyment.
After years of political promises, the sealing of the road has begun. There are clearly two camps because of this. Those who see accessibility improving the lives of people in remote communities and those who fear the impact of increased tourism. The argument that folks are stranded in the wet season, as the only way in and out for supplies or emergency is small plane holds some ground.
To write this post and reminisce with affection, I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve. But I do know to embrace change is a double edged sword. It almost always comes at a price.
I mentioned in my previous post about using a credit card less frequently. It was prompted by my early experiences of working in Australia in the 1970s. One of my first jobs was working in a major hospital. I recall every fortnight two men would walk down the corridors, one holding a small metal box, the other, a key. They would visit department after department handing out out fortnightly pay packets in notes and coins. I would go home that evening to my tiny bedsit in the city, write out my budget for the fortnight (rent, utilities, food, personal expenses, savings and holiday savings) and live within the framework of my means. I had no debts. And, I went on overseas holidays twice a year.
Then came the transition of salary going into our bank accounts. The men, no doubt, lost their jobs or were deployed elsewhere. Soon after came the ATMs and the restrictions of over the counter banking. Where have all those rows of bank tellers gone? Our unique signature has given way to PayWave or passwords. Soon, cash will be gone, too.
Before it does … I’m going back to my earlier framework of living with cash. I’m claiming back my power.
This is how I choose to ride out the tide of change.
Until next time
a dawn bird