Way out West 2025. 7th of August.  Day twenty-one.

Baxter Cliffs dune camp to Border Village CP at the Roadhouse in Border Village.

Up to start the day with sunrise over the dunes and a visit by the Pink Cockatoos.

Then we headed out again. Back over the same terrain in reverse.

Well, after a mighty total of 68.8 km yesterday and this morning, we returned to Cocklebiddy today, we fuelled up, aired up, watered up, and ice creamed up.

The trip out to Twilight Cove/Baxter cliffs was a brilliant one. We had some challenges in the track department with sand, rocks, steep ascents and descents; stunning views of blue sea and amazing Baxter Cliffs which towered over everything; beautiful white dunes, a range of wildflowers and flowering shrubs and flowering gums. Everything is interesting and just beautiful. We are so lucky to have a country that delivers such diversity and just stunning places to visit. Huge thanks to Stef for suggesting this place and guiding us out there. Also thanks to everyone for guidance and encouragement to tackle rocky and sandy bits.

Then it was back on the black top heading east on the Eyre highway.

Lunch at Madura Pass. Then a quick loo/snack/souvenir stop at the roadhouse.

Originally Madura was settled as a pastoral homestead in about 1876. Madura’s early history is rather sketchy, however for many years the area was well known for producing quality polo and cavalry horses for the British Imperial Indian Army.
At the time these fine stock horses were employed in various British campaigns on India’s rebellious Northwest Frontier. Later known as “Walers”, these horses were bred at Madura by an ex-Army Officer who overlanded them to Eucla for shipment to foreign ports. During World War 2 Madura was a site of importance to Australian Army engineers who were intent upon upgrading what is now known as the Eyre Highway.

Next stop was the Eucla Telegraph Station. The ruin was originally the WA Postmaster’s residence.
The ruins are often overtaken by the sand. I remember Mum and Dad saying that years ago – sometimes you can see the ruins and sometime you can’t.

From here it was a short 12km to Border village, a Roadhouse/bar/restaurant/motel/campground/Border Crossing where we stayed.

The footy was on TV so Steve and Phil and Ann being Collingwood supporters were quite involved.

Timezones continue to confound us and our devices. Of course it doesn’t really matter much but a weird phenomenon. 

The food was great here. I had whiting and the others had chicken Parmas – which were huge.

We sat in the bar with the footy on and caught up with the world. The bar shut at 8:30 and there was little to do but showers and bed.