Dusk at Margaret River

We are the weary travelers who stop at a campground in Margaret River after a long day of driving. We each seek a swag, a place to lay our heads, and a canopy of stars to watch over us as we sleep.

In the bottom of my backpack lies a squashed tourism brochure. It reveals that Margaret River is 227 kilometres south of Perth and 48 kilometres south-west of Busselton. The Margaret River itself was named in the late 1830s by John Garrett Bussell, the eldest of the pioneering Bussell brothers. Prior to colonisation, it was populated for over 60 000 years by the traditional owners. A mild climate and rich soil supports the growth of grapevines for wine making. 

I climb out of the campervan and breathe in the fresh air. Overhead, pink and gold stain the sky. Western Australian skies bring a gentle close to day’s end.

The heat fades and finally the outdoors is bearable.

Day's end - camping at Margaret River (Photo credit: Sonia Morell)

The dusk means time to rest and relax. Swags are tossed onto the red dirt and unrolled. We pitch our tents. Dinner is typical camping fare - rissoles cooked easily on a basic stove, plastic plates washed in a tub afterwards. 

I fall asleep as overhead, satellites roam the sky amongst the stars. Moonlight illuminates the campground, creating silhouettes out of vehicles and the ablutions block.

We awake at first light, rain drumming on the canvas swags. There is a race to see who can roll their swag and chuck it in the campervan first because wet swags are notoriously hard to dry. 

The rain only lasts a moment, but we are awake now, snatched away from slumber.

The peace of yesterday's dusk has gone, but the tang of fresh rain takes its place.

Someone’s dog barks and the laughter of children drifts our way. Life has already begun, despite the early hour. The sky lightens as we secure the campervan. Earth crunches as the tyres turn, and our driver sets up the GPS for our next destination. We leave a hive of activity as the rest of the campground wakes and stirs, everyone at different stages of their journeys - some going, some staying. For one night we were each other’s company, drawn together by our time on the road. 

I will always remember Margaret River for its peaceful welcome, as well as its rainy wake-up call. It was one moment of a long trip across Western Australia. I'm lucky to have visited.