Lucky Bay: She's white alright. Photo / Tourism Western Australia
You’ve likely never heard of Esperance, a glorious beach town on the southern coast of Western Australia, but with ice-white beaches, local creatives, great Aussie beer and a small-town spirit to rival Byron Bay, it’s a top holiday spot for sun-seeking Kiwis, writes Anna Sarjeant
Esperance is French for hope.
I’m told this while sitting in the back of a tiny, four-seater plane, swooping over the azure-blue coastline of a small, Western Australian beach town donning the same name.
As we curve around low-lying clouds, I’m hoping that I don’t reconvene with my breakfast. Sure, she’s smooth enough, but she also feels a dandelion in the wind up here.
We’re flying 2000 feet above land pockmarked with great pools of pink water — the region’s famed pink lakes, minus the largest, most famous, pink lake, which is no longer pink. No one knows why it lost its mojo, but the vibrant hue still evident in surrounding ponds comes from algae known as Dunaliella salina.
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While contemplating what miffed Dunaliella, I realise this is my second small aircraft of the day — and it’s not even afternoon. The first was courtesy of REX Airlines. A regional carrier that links Perth to Esperance via an easy, 80-minute daily flight.
If you’re lucky.
Our flight from Perth was delayed for 2 hours, before the one-pilot, one-air steward aircraft even contemplated taxying us up the runway.
We later find out the inevitable had happened — we’d been “Rexed”. A term coined by locals because delays are such a common occurrence. In fact, hoping for a hiccup-free flight is basically futile, you’re better off sacrificing your suitcase on the tarmac.
Fortunately, in a town such as Esperance, where the long-haired, topless and tanned sit in the back of converted vans strumming guitars, a road trip is an obvious alternative. It takes approximately 7.5 hours to cover the 700km trip by car, a journey that’s said to hit the roadie trifecta: wine country, wildlife and coastline.
Our time in Esperance is short, so we’re learning the lay of the land from above, courtesy of Fly Esperance and a 75-minute dalliance in the sky, soaking up ice-white beaches, farmland peppered with perfectly pink lakes and the pointed summit of Frenchman’s Peak, part of Cape Le Grand National Park.
By the time our plane lands in an empty field, aircraft and stomach lining fully intact, we’re ready for an afternoon padding along the banks of Monjingup Lake with Dabungool Cultural Experiences.
While learning how aboriginal communities lived off the land, our guide, Julie Dabungool exposes the white, watery tubes of the Twining Fringe Lily and we eat them — enthralled by the weird and wonderful aspects of nature, and the Aboriginal ingenuity to utilise it in a way even Google wouldn’t fathom today.
We depart when the impending sunset tells us to and night falls thick and fast, even in spring.
Mere moments later and darkness has enveloped our accommodation, leaving nothing but fairy lights to indicate we’ve arrived at Esperance Chalet Village — a collection of all-white A-frame hideaways and a smattering of upmarket shacks. I’m staying in the latter.
By 10pm, I’m in a deep, silent sleep. I wake eight hours later to that rare phenomenon known as complete refreshment.
The sun is burning brightly and I don’t know if it’s my gorgeous accommodation, Insta-worthy breakfast from Lauren’s Larder, or my undisturbed sleep, but the day has a shiny filter on it.
Alas, it is short-lived. The sun retreats — ominously and tellingly — as we step aboard our scenic wildlife cruise with Esperance Island Cruises.
We’ve already been Rexed, now we’re about to get hexed.
At some point, I distinctly remember someone saying we’d picked a stellar day to be on the water.
If stellar means two-metre waves, a non-existent horizon and two bags of vomit, then who am I to argue? I’m not sure the grandad to my left spewing into the same bag as his grandson agreed, nor the bloke who emptied his guts and promptly passed out.
Like anyone who experiences sea sickness, I wished for it to end. Which, mercifully, it did, half an hour before we re-found the dock. I think there was a sea eagle and a seal, and once the sun reappeared, a glimmer (of hope?) as well as platinum sand and bright blue sea.
I’m sure it’s delightful on a stellar day.
With terra firma once again stabilising my stomach, we drive to Yirri Grove Olive Farm and Restaurant for olive tasting and lunch thanks to husband-and-wife duo, Anne and Shane O’Neill.
Olives are hand-picked (and reared) on the property, squeezed and bottled using an industrial oil press that sits behind the restaurant counter — ungainly and cumbersome like a misplaced thug sitting in your grandma’s kitchen.
Yirri Grove is an award-winning olive producer, but the ambience on-site is distinctly lowkey and wholesome. Instantly likeable. Gingham tea towels sit beside the slightly threatening aluminium olive press, and it’s delightfully jarring.
Later, a walk through the olive grove culminates in homemade scones slathered in thick cream. Shane makes the coffee. He’s a Kiwi, so it’s good.
The O’Neill’s have more energy and pizazz than your average grandparents. When we leave, it’s with reluctance and fondness — like leaving your nanna’s house after she’s spoilt you rotten all afternoon.
There’s no time for malaise though, Esperance may be small but we’ve got a workshop to attend.
Cindy Poole is a self-taught glass artist with a talent for both exquisite pieces of jewellery and championing sustainability. Between the glittering necklaces, inspired by Esperance and its coastal landscape, the gallery-cum-workshop is replete with pieces made from reused glass, such as gin and wine bottles — because nothing says “ocean blue” like Bombay gin.
Cindy also glitters. She is captivating. A former PE teacher, she now leads sustainable glass art workshops, covering everything from glass cutting to sanding and frosting. You find yourself wanting to be the star pupil.
It’s also hard to pull away from her $300 necklaces; glowing like kryptonite with a similarly debilitating effect. I move away before my credit card gets a pounding and concentrate all my thoughts on dinner.
Not wanting to stray too far from Esperance’s French origins (minus the fact Australians say ‘Asprance’ and I can hear my high school French teacher wince every time they do), tonight we dine at Bistro Louis. It’s a small, French establishment, where if it hadn’t been for the 4pm scones, I’d have practically inhaled my confit of duck. Chef Roger Poutet learned French cooking from his father, but menu options such as ‘shark pie’ keep things proudly Australian.
On our last day, we catch a glimpse of the region’s most famous asset. The coastline. Notably, Lucky Bay — praised as the whitest beach in Australia.
If you don’t have a hippy van for the excursion, Esperance Coastal Tours will deposit you on a selection of astoundingly beautiful beaches, including Hell Fire Bay, which is a misleading name for a slice of Utopia, as well as Lucky Bay, where I can confirm the sand is absurdly white.
With permission, I poured an inch or two into my water bottle, later awkwardly explaining to NZ biosecurity why I had a spoonful of sand in my bag. The chap on the desk said it was odd. Conversely, I found his surprise odd. I’ve watched Border Security.
The lady who then inspected the sand — not at all perplexed by my chosen loot — spilt a little. She exclaimed at the whiteness. For a second, I thought I might get strip searched. So yes, the sand is very, very white.
Back in Esperance, we finished the trip with a cold beer and woodfired pizza at Lucky Bay Brewery: a microbrewery using barley directly sourced from local farmers. The only Australian brewery to do so.
I was equally impressed (potentially more so) by the brewery’s size, which includes an expansive playing field for kids, complete with playground (both inside and out), and a lifesize wooden boat to clamber over. The space is fully contained and perfectly safe, so lost sprogs are a needless worry for adults on an all-day sesh.
Inside the enormous brewery hangar, there’s a scattering of comfy settees, where we find two elderly folk having a snooze. Apparently, they’ve been dozing for hours.
I didn’t catch why they had succumbed to a siesta in the middle of a busy brewery on a Sunday afternoon but the reason seemed blatantly obvious to me.
Clearly, they’d been Rexed.
GETTING THERE
Fly non-stop from Auckland to Perth with Air NZ in about 7 hours.
The flight from Perth to Esperance takes roughly 1 hour, 20 minutes... Or 3 hours-plus if you get Rexed.
DETAILS
Viking’s cruise brings Europe to your balcony..