Valley of the Giants & Augusta

A short drive from Albany (in Australian terms of being less than 200 km, not in England where a short drive would be a 3 minute trip to the newsagent on a Sunday), and we entered Karri country. The south west of WA is covered with a forest of Karri trees that are worthy of characters created by Tolkien. The smooth barked Eucalyptus Diversicolor grow up to 90m to proudly claim their place among the world's tallest hardwoods. These towering gods of their domain preside over a lush land of vinyards, that is kept from the sea by a sentry of white beaches and unbeatable cliffs.

Our first point of interest in this new universe of promise was an elevated view from the 'Treetop Walk' - a 600 metre walk, floating 40 metres above the ground on a masterfully suspended steel construction. A little more stable than the Malaysian version, it wasn't quite as exciting, but was host to some magnificent views above the forest canopy. One thing that was the same as the Malay offering was that despite the advantageous viewpoint, most animals tend to stay well away from the noise of the tourists, so the view was literally the only 'high-point' of the walk.

A little further along the coast is a small town of Pemberton and just outside is the famous 'Gloucester tree'. This is a 61m fire-lookout tree that is available to climb for anyone who dares step up the metal pole spiral staircase that leads to the top. The only safety net is a sparse wire netting that surrounds the outer reaches of the poles, but there is nothing preventing one person from plummeting down in a spiral fashion, and taking every person below along, for the ride to meet their maker. If thoughts like this weren't enough to cause a little 'disco-leg', you have to constantly move to the outside while climbing to let the people coming down get past. I concede that I'm probably being a little dramatic as there were a bunch of school children (impeccable timing, as ever) undertaking this joyful experience at the same time as us.

Once our feet were firmly back on earth, we drove a massive 20 yards down the road to a vinyard and calmed our nerves. Feeling slightly light-headed (attributable to the climbing, not the wine), we raced the sun into the west, and reached the Cape Leeuwin Lighthouse in Augusta, just in time to see the remnants of the sun's party draped across the heavens.

Along with the distinguished company of Cape Horn in South America, & Cape of Good Hope in South Africa, Cape Leeuwin is recognised as one of the great southern capes of the world, standing as a silent sentinel for days gone by. Since 1895 it has watched over the continuous battle of where the Indian and Southern oceans crash into each other. It is also one of the first vantage points in Australia to watch the annual migration of whales from. At the optimum time of year, up to 100 can be seen frolicking in the bay, but our visit was too early for such a vision. And so, we took only the time one takes to gain some sleep, eat some food, and recharge batteries (ipod, camera, as well as body) before following the coast north and seeking greener pastures.