Day 26 - Perth to Margaret River

Wineries, wineries, wineries. No, not really, I don't drink and ride and it's not really my jam regardless. Some nice coastline, forests and cave spelunking though.

Quick Stats

• 4 hours on bike
• 328 km
• 9338 km total

I leave Perth in not too much of a hurry this morning, there's moisture on everything, its overcast and cold. I finally figure I better head off at around nine.

I've spent a bit of time exploring Perth and the coastline south down to Cape Naturaliste before, so I opt to jump on one of the many highways out of Perth to make a beeline for Bunbury. An arbitrary first waypoint of a decently reviewed cafe on the harbour.

Two hours later, with a short stop in the middle to get blood flowing again, I'm on the Bunbury foreshore with my first coffee of the day. And early lunch.

I take a short walk up to a nearby lookout, the sky is currently trying to shed the gloom with limited success. It's colder now than when I left Perth.

I vaguely recall coming here before, but I know I've been to the lighthouse at Cape Naturaliste. It was closed at the time though, and I remember the road out was spectacular, so I throw in my next waypoint.

The cape doesn't disappoint, a quick fuel stop at Dunsborough, its still cold and gloomy. Ten minutes down the road though and the sun breaks through the clouds and I'm greeted by orchid gardens and the green of living forests.

The lighthouse viewing is five bucks and I'm not allowed inside, but I pay up and go for a wander.

Finally automated in 1996, this was apparently the last remaining lighthouse on mainland Australia to have a lighthouse keeper. Feels like a cruisy job in an amazing place like this, no wonder they resisted modernisation.

Cape Naturaliste is the starting point of the Cape to Cape track. A 135 km walk that takes you from one end of the Leeuwin-Naturaliste Range to the other.

When here last, and I was a bit fitter, I trail ran around 30 km down past Yallingup. So rather than re-tread old ground some more, I jump back on the bike to head to somewhere I wanted and didn't visit that trip - Ngilgi Caves ("Neel Gee").

Twenty minutes down the road I get to the caves visitor centre and prompty told there's sixty school children about to go down into the cave and to go for a coffee at the general store down the road and come back in forty minutes.

Not a problem, but I don't want to get back on the bike. With aid from my offline trail maps, I opt for a random trail along the creek to walk there.

If you can't throw a stone north of Perth and hit beautiful beaches, the same can be said for down here for beautiful forests. Especially this time of year when everything is so green.

Coffee achieved, with a few visitors checking in to whether I have snacks as well, I head back up the creek for the caves.

I'm initially a bit dubious of the cave, there's a few people crowded into the small foyer for the start and they're currently doing a massive renovation to the park that leaves things feeling a bit adhoc.

The cave entrance is a twelve metre deep vertical shaft. The access was established in 1900, it was apparently Australia's first official tourist attraction. My skepticism fades immediately on entering.

The guide starts by telling us how the caves were a popular honeymoon destination in the 1910's. Crawling and squeezing, she makes jokes about the strangeness of it. Sounds perfectly romantic to me.... that probably explains more about me.

The cave system is apparently twelve stories down at its deepest, and we are warned the CO2 build up down the bottom may make breathing hard and to go slow.

Then, strangely, we are let loose to explore on our own, this isn't going to be guided at all. Our tour guide will meet us at the main cavern at the bottom. From here I can choose one of three paths, opting away from where the crowd is I head to the amphitheatre.

Apparently the acoustics in here are studio perfect. This is a recurring theme with the (surprisingly high) number of caves I seem to visit, but I'm tempted to believe this one a bit more than usual with the stalactites and stalagmites lining the roof and floor as natural noise deadening.

I decide not to test it out, but a sign tells me Dame Nellie Melba did in the 1920s. That would have been a spectacle to behold.

Leaving that chamber, I head back up to the entry and down the other path to the main chamber. This isn't a stroll through a cavern, there's awkward, tight squeezes along a rock staircase to descend. A railing of thick garden hose assists.

I don't see or hear anyone else for about fifteen minutes and begin to wonder if I've gone offtrack. Its absolutely dead silent down here, I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. I continue descending. And descending. The cave is enormous.

I eventually hear murmurs ahead, I've caught up to the group that went this way first. Then I emerge into the main chamber.

Our guide is there to greet me, informing me the tiny little "straws" from the ceiling would have taken around a thousand years to form. The massive two thousand pounder would be around 600,000 years.

The crowds (okay, there's like twelve people in the cave and only eight are willing to descend) are starting to catch up, so I flee the main cavern to further explore. The CO2 is no joke, I'm struggling on the climb out, so I stop and lie down to take it in. Easily top three caves.

Time to go, I emerge from the cave to find its been raining heavily and there's easily more coming. Gear soaked, I abandon my plans for Augusta and decide to book a spot down the road at Margaret River.

It seems I've escaped the caravan, family friendly, backpacker North and entered the yuppie south. And I'm out of tourist season (no one is stupid enough to head south in winter). So a hundred bucks gets me a loft with a fireplace and spa.

I'm going all in on wine country tonight. Degustation time.