Self-inflicted Torture

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 Holiday Cove Caravan Park, Point Sampson, near Karratha 

We set off this morning from the Pardoo Roadhouse - which if I could be bothered to give a rating on WikiCamps- would be about a 3.5 out of 5. All a bit run down. Fine for one night though.

We headed off to Point Sampson, about 355k up the road, expecting to get diesel in Port Hedland. But Port Hedland involved a detour so we kept going. We assumed that there would be a roadhouse  out of the town. There wasn’t. We kept going further, confident one would pop up. One did not. 

The point at which we began to seriously worry was when the diesel light came on - which pretty much coincided with the ‘ 80km to Roebourne’ (nearest town) sign. 

Help! 80k's to nearest fuel!

Could we make it 80k with what was left on the tank? I quickly googled... - the consensus for Fiat Ducato motorhomes was the tank would normally get you “50-80k, once the light came on, depending on hills etc”… 

Egad… 

Every 10k there was another sign, 70k, 60k, 50k, 40k, 30k…we counted down… by this time we were both thinking ‘we will never make it...' Mark had slowed right down to conserve fuel so it was agonisingly tedious.

 Then it was 20ks and then, at last, only 10k to go. We dared to think ‘we might just get there’. 

Driving scenes

A ground-cover style pink wildflower

At last we pulled into Roebourne. But the BP service station on my phone map was not there... OMG!! No other service stations in sight! The tension was high. Mark had to pull over to look on his phone. Phew - the service station had moved about 1k up the road...

We crawled in - we had made it! Such sweet relief!

“This is more stressful than work” Mark observed.

Shortly after this entirely self-inflicted trauma, we arrived at Point Sampson. Right on the point, as you can tell from the name, with fresh ocean breezes from multiple directions. I had Honeymoon Cove all to myself for a swim, and did some washing.

Honeymoon Cove for solitary swim 

Then we had dinner in a very high-set tavern that looked out over the beach. Mark watched a bit of footy whilst I read my book and tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to photograph the seagulls flying beneath us.

Spot the bird - View from the tavern

180 degree view of the sea from the tavern



Looking down at the very long train whilst going over a bridge



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