The end of November hits different for my wife – it's a time to remember a loved one lost, and honestly, it's when she needs me most. So like clockwork, we do what we do best: pack up and disappear. Camp somewhere remote, jump on a plane, whatever it takes to outrun the hurt for a bit. This year? Sandy Cape, Jurien Bay. Rough camping. Just how we like it.
We loaded up the ute with way too much food (as usual), our Rottweiler Mia, and pointed ourselves North for a 3-hour cruise to the emerald coast. Four nights of South bush camping awaited us, booked through SpacetoCo.
First things first on arrival: drop those tyre pressures and hit the bush tracks. We were on a mission to find THE spot – you know, the one we'd stumbled across earlier in the year for my birthday. Our own private bay with just one perfect camping spot. As we crept closer, the beach was empty... good sign. The area was quiet... even better. And then, as the nose of our ute rolled up to that slightly elevated camping spot... JACKPOT. Empty!
We'd both been secretly crossing our fingers this whole time. I'd even mentioned finding a Plan B "just in case," but deep down we were both hoping. And here we were, grinning ear to ear.
Time to set up camp! Now, we've been double-swag people for years – Weber BBQ, solar panels, porta-toilet, fridge-freezer, all the mod cons. But this trip? We'd upgraded. Treated ourselves to a roof top tent and annex. Time to put these bad boys to the test.
Cue our 2-year-old Rottweiler Mia, standing guard and barking at literally everything – seagulls, leaves, the odd passing ute (whose drivers were probably also hoping our spot was vacant, sorry folks!). We cracked a beer, popped the roof top tent, set up tables, fired up the Weber, deployed my shiny new XTM solar panel, and then... attempted the roof top annex.
Here's the thing about Western Australia: it's WINDY. Like, properly windy. The sun was gorgeous, but the wind? Gusting 25-30kph. Our midrange annex – which we'd bought mainly to house the dog at night – quickly transformed into a giant sail. Tempers weren't exactly rising, but let's just say I was getting a bit miffed. After an epic battle, we won... sort of. The constant wind and tight guy ropes meant a supporting pole punched straight through the canvas. Brilliant.
For the rest of the trip? That annex stayed rolled up and dumped to the side. Mia spent her nights in the tray of the ute. Honestly? Better option anyway.
The days were hot, windy, and absolutely magical. Walking Mia around opened up even more stunning views and reminded us just how lucky we are to have these beautiful surroundings on our doorstep. The water was surprisingly warm – and by warm, I mean I could snorkel without a wetsuit! A rash top did the job, though after 30 minutes I was ready to get out and warm up. Being a green conservation zone meant no fishing or cray hunting, despite there being plenty around.
The escape from reality and the simple life was exactly what my wife needed. Though being the free spirit she is, she still managed to get a bit of heat stress from lying out in the sun too long. A combo of constant heat and dehydration meant she found herself in bed early that night, not feeling her best.
After 4 nights of minimal sleep (thanks to windy nights and a flapping roof top tent), it was time to leave our sandy haven. As always, as soon as the sun started creeping up, I was up and kicking her out of bed to pack up. One hour later: ute packed, rubbish bags secured, and one very unwanted annex strapped to the rear, all destined for the bins near the entrance.
I'd noticed our portable toilet was suspiciously full and heavy but thought nothing of it. After navigating a few wrong tracks and having to backtrack to the main entrance road, we hit the information point. First stop: bins. Goodbye rubbish, goodbye annex, and goodbye to my camp chair (which had broken – naturally). Across from the bins was the toilet dump point. Time to tackle that job.
Hand sanitiser at the ready, I dropped the tailgate and lowered the toilet to the ground. And that's when I discovered the mini explosion inside the toilet bag. It had leaked. It wasn't pretty. But the job got done – emptied, hosed down, lesson learned. Pro tip: don't flush the toilet too many times and respect its limitations!
Tyres inflated, we headed home. Once back, feeling weathered and tired, we emptied the ute, cleaned everything, and cracked a cold one. We scrolled through our photos and reflected with big smiles on our mini escape. Mission accomplished.