Far From The Madding Crowd

Gustasp Irani takes a respite from civilisation at Faraway Bay Bush Camp

Pics: Gustasp Irani

Faraway Bay, tucked away in the northern corner of the remote Kimberley region of Western Australia was Robinson Crusoe country minus the hardships. This snug little bush camp (it accommodates no more than 12 at any given time) where the sharp edges of nature had been smoothened out without compromising its rustic appeal let me indulge my fantasy of playing the noble savage. My accommodation was one of six basic tents that overlook a bay cradled in two sweeping arms of land. A block of common solar powered showers and toilets heighten the back-to-nature flavour of the setting.

At the heart of this nature resort was Eagle Lodge, a magnificent cliff top lounge that served as the lobby, reception, dining hall and kitchen. Here we were free to help ourselves to the beer, wines and soft drinks stacked in coolers as well as any of the 'lollie' lying around anytime we wanted and apply sun tan lotion and insect repellent from handy decanters whenever the need arose.

Locks and keys were out of place here since our closest neighbour was an aborigine community some 100-km away. Indeed, the only way to reach Faraway Bay was by air. Our 80-minute flight from Kununurra, southwest of Darwin, in a 14-seater Caravan propeller aircraft was a scenic delight as we flew low over terrain that was as spectacular as it was rugged

Faraway Bay offered a variety of indulgences; fishing, guided bush and beach walks, beachcombing, stargazing and classes in creative outback cooking. They even had a one-hole golf course (more a practice swing range really) where guests could tee off from atop the cliff at the hole down by the waterfront. On reaching base camp I, however, chose to relax in the little pool that had been literally cut into the rock. Lazing in the water, I watched the setting sun paint the sky in a burst of colours.

The first stars started to peep out of the darkening sky and other guests gathered around the pool: some joined me in the water and others lazed around the fringes. The mood was as sparkling as the wine we sipped. Somewhere along the shores of the waters below us, Brutus was fishing for his dinner. Our meal too had been freshly caught earlier during the day: a 15-kg Barramundi that had been carved into generous slices and grilled on the barbecue.

After a sumptuous meal I lingered on, nursing my wine and savouring the sense of splendid solitude. Slowly the group started to disperse, each one picking up a torchlight from a basket to light their way back to the snug little shacks that were illuminated with nothing more than a night lamp.

I awoke the next day to a bright new morning with the sun's rays streaming in through the wire-meshed of my tented accommodation. I stepped out and admired nature adorned in her finest gown of sparkling blue water hemmed in by startling orange-gold cliffs embroidered with lush green vegetation. Soon I would be flying back to civilization. After spending only a day in a paradise called Faraway Bay, the world I had left behind seemed to belong to another dimension in a distant planet.