It was quite a distance to the heart of the wooded South West, around 2 plus hours driving through rolling farmland (quite like home) and massive forest on either side of the road for long long spells (probably more like Canada). The weather also was "quite a distance" from the summery conditions we left behind in Busselton, taking on a more noticeably autumnal demeanor with more in the way of overcast skies and spats of rain. The journey was most notable for the sense of being mostly alone in the bosom of Nature with scarcely any other travellers encountered "along the enchanted way". We did pass the occasional road repair gang (all with friendly waving) and some encamped eco warriors whom we heard about on the radio news. There was also a few picturesque little towns oozing a sense of bygone days, particularly Nannup with its Federation style building facades (great for photographing). It was also just outside Nannup that we encountered the only Kangaroos we spied along the way - a mother and her Joey just sitting there calmly watching the world go by. I like the pace of that place.

We didn't reach Pemberton until well after noon. A short exploration (it's a smallish town) quickly located the Tourist Information Centre which we browsed around for a while to get our bearings on what we'd fancy seeing. The two main attractions seemed to be the local Lookout Tree (just a short distance from the village) and the Valley of the Giants (which turned out to be at Walpole, a lively enough 45-50 miles distant). I suppose with all the driving and all, the brain had ceased operating in full logical mode and so when we checked with the Bord F<ilte lady that the famous Tree Top Walk at Walpole would be open for visitors up to 5 pm, we decided to head on for that experience that day. But first we had ourselves something to eat in a lively local country cafJ so that consciousness as well as logic wouldn't desert us. Suitably replenished we cruised the road by way of Northcliffe and Shannon and found the Valley of the Giants with no bother just a few miles past Walpole. It was about 3 pm.

Having deposited the wheels (in the car park of course) we strolled on to the entrance ticket office. Here Ber did the necessary whilst I "unpacked" the camera and some sandwich bars to help in our forthcoming exertions. After a short pow wow we decided to do the "canopy" walk first before taking a stroll later around the floor of the Valley of the Giants. And so we sauntered on up this gently sloping wide wooden bridge. It was such real easy stuff that I decided I could easily cope with eating my own sandwich and simultaneously carry in my hands the camera and my cap. I had little idea of what was about to happen.

At the end of the wooden ramp was a steel walkway construction about 4 feet wide and with a 4 foot railing on either side. The problem was that this structure was mounted on steel spring supports and as soon as you stepped on it began to shake. In fact it shook with every step you took as well as with every step taken by anybody else on the same section. Jeez it really gave me a start at the start with me hands full and no handy way of gripping the rail. In fact the startling feeling I started with never left me at all throughout the whole "stroll". To convey some idea of my ordeal I should explain that the whole walk was about 400 metres long divided into 6 sections with a "rest" platform between each. For the first half it slopes upwards until you reach the highest point - 40 metres above the forest floor. The second half then naturally enough slopes downwards. To tell the truth I'm not sure which half was the most stressing on me auld nerves. I suppose part of the problem is that I am over 6 foot tall and I couldn't shake the uncomfortable notion that the side railings were too low for me. In addition I made the fatal mistake at an early point of looking straight down through the "see through to some extent" floor of the walkway. This wasn't at all a good idea especially for someone not totally comfortable with heights and more especially still when the world seemed to be swaying all over the shop.

Other walkers mostly appeared to be able to negotiate their way without too much bother by striding quite briskly between the "rest" platforms (apart from Ber that is, who had no bother at all even sauntering along). Much as I could see the logic of this "power walking" tactic with the logical side of my brain, the other older part of my thinking apparatus refused to cooperate. The result I'm told, which photographic evidence snapped by herself sort of seems to confirm, was hilarious to witness. Ah well I'm glad most of the onlookers had an extra "highlight" to remember from their visit to the tops of some very very tall trees indeed. It made my day altogether when she asked me to take her own photograph at the highest point. I had to get down on my hands and knees to oblige, as well as to keep the camera from shaking as much as the bloody "boardwalk". I wonder did all the laughing add to the shakiness?

You may wonder why I didn't just turn around at an early stage and go back down to terra firma along the same route by which I had ascended into the heavens. Well the truth is this was a well nigh impossible task. If you attempted to turn around you'd cause an almighty traffic snarl up, given the pace of a lot of the said traffic, not to mention the possibility of tipping yourself and somebody else into an unanticipated bungy jump without the undoubted benefit of ankle straps. And so even though we were totally unconscious of it beforehand, we were in fact making an irrevocable decision to get to the finish line once we had taken the first step. That fella Magnus Magnusson has a lot to answer for!

Even though I wasn't really able to appreciate what the birds see at the top of the forest, I'm glad I took the plunge so to speak. At the very least I learnt first hand what a powerful thing being scared sh...less can be, as well as what a powerful emotional effect subsequent relief can have. After all I've said, it'll be hard for you to believe that after only 10 minutes back down on earth I had a strong urge to do the walk again so as to conquer the fear. But I didn't.

A short rest sitting on a felled tree trunk saw me recover me sea legs and step forward arRs, this time for a more conventional stroll on the Giant Tingle Tree Forest floor with real board walks underneath our pegs for a change. There's something humbling about being so near to giant trees (especially when you can stand inside their base), as well as something calming, or was this just a boomerang effect (seeing we were in Australia) after the sky walk? Anyway it refreshed the nerves in no time and I even found myself contemplating the remarkable steel Tree Top Walk structure with more reasoned eyes. There was a good view from underneath of how it was put together and it sure was well designed to preserve the integrity of its ancient setting. Unfortunately it seems a number of people were killed in the construction but the whole affair is a lasting tribute to their skill and courage and green credentials.

With the high canopy viewing (or not viewing as the case may be) and the floor walking and others things safely under our belts, we went back into Walpole to find a place to rest up for the night. There were two hotel/motels in the village, one upmarket (Tree Top Walk Motel) and the other not so much so. As it happened there was no room at the first so we checked in at the Walpole Hotel-Motel on the less opulent side of town, even though it was only about 200 metres down the road. We did, however, manage to book a table for two at the classy joint and made our way there at 7 pm. It was a real nice restaurant with real nice service and we had some real nice food and wine at a real nice pace, for well over an hour. It was my first time partaking of the barramundi fish and it was simply superb. One thing about WA - the grub is great. Later we moseyed back down main street to our digs and decided to check out the bar.

Inside there were about six other customers, all looking like wild lumberjacks. Our arrival was greeted by some nods in our direction and a friendly question from the nice young lady tending the bar, which sounded like what would we fancy. Taking this to mean what we thought it meant, we asked what beer she'd recommend and that's how we started on the jugs of Swan Draught.

The food, wine and beer eventually turned relaxation into sleep and the curtain descended on another interesting story day.

The following morning we decided we'd head back to Pemberton to view the Lookout Tree. I know this seems silly given that we could have done so yesterday but like I indicated before, logical notions had been somewhat displaced by codological ones for a time. We got there around midday. Again it was a National Park (Oz is full of 'em) where we strolled on into the karri forest after parking the mobile. Now the Gloucester Lookout Tree is one hell of a mamma, rising to over 60 metres straight up from the forest floor. We had anticipated that if by any fluke we were overcome with an urge to climb this monster, a stairway (surely enclosed) would provide the means.

However, I'm afraid WA again surprised us in the heights department. The "stairs" turned out to be a long long series of 153 bars/rungs set in the trunk of the tree and going up spiral fashion to a platform about two thirds of the way and then further on to a hut at the very top. There was a sign at the bottom saying great care was needed by climbers and if you had a dodgy ticker or suffered from any anxiety about high things, you'd be most well advised not to climb. That, and the awesome appearance of the thing to a fragile ground hugger like meself, settled the issue on the side of remaining firmly on terra firma, for both of us. Instead we sat on a nearby bench and for a while watched the antics of various Tarzans and Janes (mostly of British and Japanese persuasion to go by the sound of them). That in itself was enough to tweak the stomach department and eventually did give us stiff necks!

As an alternative to high jinx this time, we went for a 3 kilometre stroll through the forest which was relatively soothing. An odd thing was that as soon as we moved a short distance from the trapeze artists we could no longer hear their gleeful yelps to each other and their pals on the ground. Sound does move in mysterious ways in the big forest.

Later on we went back into Pemberton, had something to eat and then decided we'd had enough of the overcast skies thing and would head back for the coast back up at Bunbury.