Erh, somewhere you want to be?
Great thread, great places.
When I was a teenager, my mates and I used to regularly hitch (hitchike) or codge a lift of an older mate with a licence to surf Margaret River, Cowarumup and Yalingup. We used to camp on all the vacant land down by a river, near a fire and occasionally hit the bush dances with all the farm-grown, hippies and cheap wine from the nascent wineries Always an amazing time.
A very powerful ride, still, we used to leave the boogie boarding to the surfiechicks . . .
. . . and go for the tube . . . but that meant heading into the reef.
What we caught within minutes at our campsite - (edit) I called it a yabby, that’s an east coast thing. We called them djilgies, an aboriginal word. In English they were marron, much like an eastern yabby. or freshwater crayfish. Heavenly when boiled and slapped on bread with lemon, black pepper and a beer after a day surfing in summer. But at the same time, they were what you had when you had fuck all money. If you had coin, you’d grab fish and chips!
I recall talking to a mate while siitting in a perfect 12 foot left hand barrelling break all to ourselves . . .easterly wind spraying back into our faces as we took off, perfect blue sky, no wetsuit . . . "but Australia is the world’s biggest fucking island, Perth’s the world’s most isolated fucking city and we’re five fucking hours from there, why the fuck would you buy a place out here? It’s worth shit now and it’ll be worth shit when you’re dead. Anyway,they’re cutting all the karri, they’re not afraid of our tree spikes and the place will be a freakin’ desert before you know it . . . "
A karri forest. Apparently the word “karri”, the name of the tree, meant “whispering death” in the local aboriginal language. That’s because the upper branches would die, become water logged and drop in winter. These trees are enormous (Karri - Eucalyptus diversicolor - is a eucalypt which is native to the wetter regions of south western Australia. The tree grows to 90 metres, making it one of the tallest species in the world).
He bought fifty acres backing the beach and national park one year later and never moved. I don’t see him anymore, but I know he’s still there and in land value he’s a seriously rich man. And for what? He hung out surfing the whole time while I worked like a freaking dog . . . follow your dreams . . . always.