How to Prepare for a Subtropical Trip
Green, barely touched lands still exist in the Commonwealth, inland from the coast of Western Australia. From the air-conditioned plane you step into a heat unbearable even at 9AM and make your way to the only hotel in Derby, Western Australia.
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How to Prepare for a Subtropical Trip
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The Commonwealth has some of the greenest, most untouched lands, located beyond the coast of Western Australia. After your plane lands, you must trek through the sweltering 9AM heat to the only hotel in Derby, Western Australia. There’s no one in the office and the dining room with large fans swishing from the ceiling, is empty.
Relief comes in the form of a song from an opera, being sung by a famous someone. The bar is next, and utter amazement washes over you as you watch surreal characters in discussion over light, cool beer.
It tickles you to watch the stereotypical, tall jackaroo, with sideburns, bush hat, tight jeans, and high heeled stock boots, take himself on in a game of billiards.
The metropolis of Derby is basically one block square with a few more houses, single story offices, and a school, straggling along the road to the airport. The neighbors of Derby’s 1,000 inhabitants are Indonesia’s 96 million, only 900 miles away, and Perth, only 1,350 miles away.
On closer inspection, Derby citizens are not what you would imagine them to be. The only omission may be a pot-bellied Scandinavian named lucky, famed for five pound minimums in two up games played in Kalgoorlie. Later, you find that the nice pilot who flew you 40 minutes north to the land of iron ore in Cockatoo and Koolan Island once worked for an English airline.
Because he could put away more in a month in Derby than he could in a year in England, he took a chance. At home, air conditioning saves him from the heat, though the comfort stays only within his walls. When travelling to Western Australia, you should not miss the Kimberleys and cow country.
The grandeur of the mountains, the depth of the valleys, the density of the bush, and the unfazability of the men are more and more embellished with each story told in a Perth bar. You are lucky to be able to meet a reliable cattle rancher that evening. It is 6AM, and after steak, eggs, and coffee, you depart for the Kimberley Downs before the heat becomes unbearable.
City people used to paved roads need to brave themselves for corrugated dirt track. Everywhere you look there are fat bob trees and bush, clouded by thick, red dust.
Four black cowboys ride up to meet you at a gate about an hour and a half later. It would be obvious to the common person that these are aborigine stockmen.
The last step is a hill that makes way for the Kimberley Downs below. Two flat hills enfold the homestead, the stockyards and the horse corrals.
Through a small opening between, a tree-dotted, grassy plain leads to the distant Blue Mountains. Kimberley Downs and its neighboring station, Napier Downs, run as one unit, extend for two million acres.
The people and animal count is 12 white people, 150 aboriginals, 700 horses and 40,000 cattle. From the rise, it looks like the park of a stately home but it’s December and the grass is dry and brown. Six months of no rainfall can do that, and the dust the horsemen kick up is so thick.
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