Public holiday long weekends are a mad place to be in Western Australia's South West.
"I'm waiting for the day when the south west corner sinks" laughs the lady at the checkout as I pay for my fuel in a long line of city slickers on their way south for the Labor Day long weekend.
It has been quite a while since I've tackled a public holiday in the region, but I'm feeling courageous.
That's an intriguing in-car accessory?
We arrive at Contos camp ground to a giant sign: "ALL CAMP SITES ARE FULL". An online booking system for Contos was introduced at the beginning of March and it turns out all of the sites for the Labor Day long weekend were booked out on its first day of trade.
We hand over our $20 a night fee and set on our way past the boom gate to our allotted square of dirt . We arrive to kids yelling old-school nursery rhymes, young crew blasting doof music and a random guy who rocked up with his dog (being a national park, this is a no-no). All is going smoothly for man and dog until the big fluffy pooch barks at the ranger as he drives past.
"It's like I have left the city, for tent city" I think to myself as we pull up to our site. "NO FIRES" hangs a laminated sign from the camp fire on our site. "Fair enough" I think aloud.
We chuckle at the light splattering of rain as we unfurl our $50 Target tent.
The following morning we're awoken by an orchestra of screeching children. We need caffeine fast, so we make our way to a crowded local cafe, before continuing on our adventure to the beautiful Boranup Forrest.
I'm bewildered by the number of cars pulled over onto the shoulder of Caves Road. Anyone who knows Caves Road understands that there’s very little room between the road, the gravel and the trees.
“What are they doing?”
The car in front screams to halt.
Ahead a hire car gingerly edges its way from the shoulder back onto the winding road.
“Bloody idiots” yells the driver in front out of his window.
We continue south for some beach hopping - to Hamelin Bay, to spot some stingrays amongst the the crisp, clear and beautiful turquoise water and back up to Redgate Beach for a bit of surf, before making our way to one of my favourites – The Berry Farm.
I ring ahead to make sure we can get a table; “yes, we’re busy though. There’s about a half an hour wait for food”. Even my staple place is affected by the mad rush, with our usual Plowman's Platter downgraded from its abundant plate of glory. However, the stars of the show still make an appearance.
We buy some of their delicious Pear and Boysenberry cider before making our way back to camp at sunset. We also manage to drown out the surrounding ambiance of bush doof music and more screaming children with an iPhone on speaker mode, shoved into an empty box of crackers.
A quick check of the surf report has us excited for tomorrow and we go to bed early, with our car eagerly packed.
We arrive at Surfers Point early morning to a sea of surfers tackling the perfectly curling chunks of whitewater.
The surf is way out of my league, so I pull out the camera for some people watching.
I'm startled by the sheer number of drop ins. And not your sly kind of drop-in either. I'm talking blatant, "oh hey buddy, nice wave you've got there. Here I go. Wheeee" kind of drop-in. Sometimes two of these kinds of drop-ins, drop-in.
But Main Break sorts out the weekend warriors from the experienced, as the steep take off and free fall gives many a surfer some moments to reconsider their actions.
WA-WA-WA-WA-WIPEOUT!
I also love the sense of camaraderie amongst the more experienced surfers, as they greet each other on the trek to and from the waves.
After Margaret River Main Break, we beach hop our way back along the coast and are greeted by a fantastic pop-up band at Wyadup. These guys rock!
The awesome pop-up band posing for a pic.
They also provide a great soundtrack, as we sit on the rocks, watching the dramatic scenes below, as many tackle the unforgiving shore break.
A perfect time to cast a line?
Kids, don't try this at home.
There’s no denying that I absolutely love this part of the world, but if you're looking for that postcard moment of relaxation and rejuvenation, a public holiday long weekend is not the time for you. Unless, of course, you're willing to pay top dollar within the quiet confines of a secluded resort, or if you're a local, your living room.