Glamping - The Only Way To Camp

Expat Wife sincerely apologises for not blogging for over a week but, frankly, I’ve just been having too much fun. We left Exmouth on Sunday for the long drive over to Karijini National Park, sadly having to bade farewell to The Husband en route – he did have a car, we didn’t just leave him at the side of the road to thumb a lift back to Karratha. To reach Karijini we had to drive directly inland, a multi-hour trip during which we passed perhaps five other vehicles. This was the real Australia. Gum trees with papery white bark, miles and miles of rich red soil, a dingo scarpering across the road, a huge sky which wasn’t, for once, blue. The weather had turned slightly, bringing with it pregnant clouds, and the distant hills looked almost purple under the dark, brooding sky. As the journey drew to an end, the sun, low in the sky, cast an orange glow over the red mountains of the park. At least, that’s what we could see when the clouds of dust from other vehicles cleared – as we entered the park, the road turned into a red dirt track, causing a red dust-storm whenever we passed a car.


Our destination was the Karijini Eco Resort, slap-bang in the middle of the park. We were booked into their eco tents. Now these weren’t ordinary tents but huge rooms equipped with proper beds, bedside tables, a table and chairs, and an outdoor, partially covered bathroom. This was camping Expat Wife style. Yes, we glamped it, and I am absolutely unashamed to admit it. To be able to come back from hiking all day as the sun was setting and it started to get cold, it was absolute heaven to step into a hot shower right from the tent (and a hot shower from which you could look out over the red hills of Karijini to boot) – no queuing, no traipsing across the campsite and back again, no trying to avoid other people’s hair balls in the drain. Perhaps most importantly, no getting up in the frigid night, stumbling about in the dark to find shoes, jumper, torch, trying to avoid snakes, spiders, and holes in the ground as you step carefully over to the ablutions block to do a middle-of-the-night wee. The Mother later informed me that she would have just squatted by the side of the tent if we were camping and not glamping, but in Australia I really do not think that wise. This is the land where deadly creatures could be behind every bush, beside every structure, however flimsy. I don’t think she would have coped very well with a snake bite to the bottom.

The first night was cold. No, that’s a lie. It was absolutely bloody freezing. Being in the wilderness, we were determined to sit out under the stars (which were pretty amazing – not just constellations but other galaxies, they filled the sky completely) so we gathered on the verandah outside The Parents’ tent for pre-dinner drinks – yes, a G&T is mandatory, even out in the wilds of the bush. We were all wearing pretty much every item of clothing we owned and I also donned a thick blanket. The problem was that the blanket swathing my arms and hands made it very difficult both to grasp my drink and play a hand of cards. This would have been the perfect moment for that noughties favourite, the Snuggy - the blanket with arms, what a genius invention. Lots of laughter could be heard coming from our tent that evening, mainly of the hysterical kind caused by the biting cold. After a few swigs of red wine for warmth, we ventured out to the on-site, al fresco restaurant where we all opted for the roast beef set – wonderfully warming comfort food, we all thought. We devoured the thick, piping hot, home-made pumpkin soup but merely nibbled at the so-cold-our-teeth-hurt salad. The roast beef that we had all been so looking forward to was rock hard and drowning in thick, almost solid gravy. It was accompanied by the sort of tinned mixed vegetables school dinners are famous for and all decided that the self-cook barbecue meals would be a better bet the following two nights. It turned out that they were fantastic options. Barramundi , steak, and an outback game tasting plate consisting of crocodile (which I can officially reveal tastes like a cross between firm white fish and chicken), kangaroo and emu were all tasted. And actually, it was lovely and warm standing by the barbie. Just the ticket for the sub-zero temperatures that hit Karijini in the dead of night. It’s a bloody good thing the days were nice and hot.