The sun is setting when we spot the first turtle shuffling out of the ocean. It’s moving so slowly I have to squint to be sure it’s not a rock. We’ve been warned to stay quiet and keep our distance, so that we don’t distract the turtles from the task of coming ashore to lay and bury their eggs. Gradually more bath-sized creatures emerge, hauling themselves up the sand before sending it flying with their flippers as they dig.
This hushed evening at Western Australia’s Mauritius Beach is a gear shift from the pizza and drinking games of last night. The 21-strong group on this budget tour are – unlike me – mostly in their early 20s. So lively nights are par for the course, as are dorm rooms that range from spacious and air-conditioned to cramped and overheated – a far cry from the luxurious Perth hotels I’ve bookended my trip with: The Westin and QT. But what the tour occasionally lacks in comfort, it more than makes up for in experiences.
The round-trip journey with Autopia starts in central Perth, where I board a minibus to the strains of Kylie and Jason’s “Especially for You”. It continues 1,250km (776 miles) north to Exmouth, stopping at national parks, dramatic landscapes and a wildlife-rich coastline.
Just two hours out of the city, the yellow sand of the Pinnacles Desert is peppered with thousands of limestone spires, some 13ft tall. They’re thought to have been formed by marine shell deposits, sand and wind, although the specifics are a matter of debate – as is the timing, with estimates ranging from 25,000 to 100,000 years ago.
The area is sacred for indigenous women, and Noongar legend has it that these structures are the remains of young men who, as a punishment for trespassing in a female space, were swallowed up by the sand. Regardless of how the anthill-like towers got here, they create a vast, alien landscape in which it’s easy to lose one’s bearings.
Further north, Kalbarri National Park is surprisingly green by comparison. “During the wildflower season this spot blows up,” says our guide, Doug, as we walk to a viewpoint overlooking the 50 mile-long Murchison Gorge. Layers of red sandstone are draped in greenery, but the river has shrunk down to a series of shallow pools in the summer heat. I climb down huge boulders and between walls of rock to reach the shady riverbed, where I scramble over the stones alongside the low water, taking in the vastness and the cool breeze.
We also visit towering white sand dunes, a salt lake that’s been turned pink by algae, and visitor centres where we learn about the area’s First Nations history and damage done by settler-colonialists. I encounter emus, kangaroos, monitor lizards and galahs in car parks and by the roadside. Signs at cafes warn of snakes in bushes and gulls looking to steal “chippies”, but neither make an appearance.
Most nights are spent in low-key beach towns like Geraldton, Kalbarri and Coral Bay, eating wholesome meals prepared by Doug before boozy games for some and early nights for others. In the daytime, the January temperature rises as we inch our way north, until it finally hits 46°C and the minibus’s air-conditioning packs in during one of our longest drives.
I take every opportunity to swim, including at Shell Beach, composed entirely of tiny cockleshells, and Turquoise Bay, where the soft, white sand sets off the vibrant colour of the water. This stretch of Indian Ocean is kept calm by the Ningaloo Reef, which at 160 miles long is the world’s largest fringing reef, growing directly from the shore.
While not as colourful as the east coast’s Great Barrier Reef, the Ningaloo is home to a huge array of wildlife. Dolphins swim alongside us on a boat trip with Coral Bay Eco Tours, and when we jump out to snorkel, there are turtles just a few metres below. The water is shallow and incredibly clear, offering perfect visibility over the ocean floor, bulbous coral and a spectacular display of fish in various electric shades.
The headliners, though, are the manta rays. With a spotter plane and Chris, the tour company’s swimmer, seeking them out, we’re waved into the water whenever the elusive rays are close by. “We still know very little about them, like where they go to have their babies,” says Chris.
Where we eventually find a pair is deeper and darker than the areas we’ve snorkelled in so far. I stick my face below the surface and try to keep up with the rays, which can swim at up to 15mph, their car-width wings billowing as they glide through the water. As quickly as they appear, they’re gone, and after three fleeting encounters it’s time for us to leave too.
I wish I’d had more time with the mantas, just as I’d have liked to spend longer hiking or on the incredible beaches. But that’s the beauty of this whistle-stop tour: it leaves you wanting more. Next time, though, I might just splash out on my own room.
Getting there
How to do it
Autopia’s seven-day Perth-to-Exmouth group tour starts at AU$1,995pp (£1,056pp) including shared accommodation, transport and most meals. Coral Bay Eco Tours’ six- or seven-hour Swimming with Manta Rays boat tour costs AU$305pp (£161pp), including lunch.
Where to stay
More information