Kari… Kara… quick Google… Karijini National Park – that’s where I am going.
Yes, I am ashamed to admit when Tourism Western Australia reached out to offer me this incredible trip, I had never heard of this oasis in the middle of the Western Australia outback.
However, it was an immediate yes to accept the trip and I would quickly learn why this remote destination should be put on every adventurous traveller’s bucket list.
But this trip wasn’t just about red dirt and hikes. It was about contrast.
The thriving city culture of Perth giving way to complete silence in nature.
The bluest waters skimming the shores of Rottnest Island/Wadjemup against the reddest dirt I had ever seen.
Vast Indian Ocean skies replaced by the darkest, most starlit nights this city girl could barely believe.
Our journey began in the lands of the Whadjuk Noongar people, Kaarta Koomba or Kings Park (left) as we know it.
Steve from In Culture Tours welcomed us onto Whadjuk Noongar country with stories that transformed Kings Park from an inner-city attraction into something sacred.
Standing above the Perth skyline, hearing stories of bush medicine, family and connection to land, it became clear this trip would be about more than scenery.
The following day, the native flowers and lush green leaves of Kings Park gave way to the ocean as we boarded the Rottnest Express to Rottnest Island, or Wadjemup, meaning “place across the water where the spirits are”.
While Rottnest might be famous worldwide for its selfie-loving quokkas and impossibly blue water, the island carries a much heavier history beneath the surface.
Burial grounds and stories shared across the island reminded us that some of Western Australia’s most beautiful places also hold some of its deepest truths.
Wadjemup became another reminder that this trip was less about ticking off landmarks and more about understanding the stories connected to them.
We ended the evening inside Fremantle Prison, hearing stories that linked ancient land, colonial history and modern-day Western Australia in ways that were equal parts fascinating and confronting.
Waking up the next morning was filled with anticipation, excitement and perhaps a little bit of nervousness for the unknown (at least from me! I still had Wi-Fi and air conditioning!).
Landing in Paraburdoo Airport, it hits you almost immediately – we are so small…. This land is so vast and the red dirt – it’s already everywhere.
(Above): Michelle, Tiana Brown and Chad Naylor at Rottnest Island
The drive to Karijini is when it really hit me… this place I didn’t even know the name of two months ago, suddenly evoked one of my biggest childhood school memories….
“I love a sunburnt country, a land of sweeping plains. Of ragged mountain ranges. Of droughts and flooding rains”.
Suddenly, those words no longer felt like poetry from a classroom page, but something living and breathing right outside the car window.
Arriving at Karijini Eco Retreat, the heat hit like a wall of fire and I will admit, I was beginning to worry how I would cope these next two days.
I am used to creature comforts when travelling and the lack of air conditioning was putting a small panic in the back of my mind.
The second panic hit when I looked at my phone and saw I had no service. I am fairly sure I doubled as the entertainment at lunch when all this hit me at once.
What had I signed myself up for? But somewhere beneath my panic, I knew discomfort was exactly why I had come. Disconnection was exactly what I needed.
That evening we started with a sunset hike to Joffre Gorge with Kate from The Hike Collective, where stories and laughter flowed over a glass of bubbles as the sun disappeared into the layered red rock of the 2.5 million year old gorge, giving way to spectacular pinks and oranges.
As the sky turned to darkness, we sat gazing at the millions of stars and truly began to realise that life is meant for slowing down and that we are just a small part of the story that is our country.
The next day, Weano (above) and Dales Gorges challenged our fitness and fear of heights, but every steep climb and narrow gorge led to moments that felt almost impossible to describe.
Floating silently in the jade green Fern Pool beneath the dragonflies skimming the water above us, the outside world suddenly felt very far away. Moments of true reflection on our ancient stories and our lives as we live them.
Somewhere between the red dirt, the natural pools, the silence and the complete lack of phone service, the place I once had to Google had become somewhere I wasn’t ready to leave.
