The day begins with a bittersweet note as we mark our final destination in Australia. Arriving in Broome late morning, we are greeted by cloudless skies, turquoise waters and a land painted indigenous red. This remote, and I mean remote, land is as far away a person can get from anywhere.

But adding to this remoteness, Broome— on an Easter weekend— is as quiet as it must have been 130 million years ago when dinosaurs walked these mudflats and left their footprints forever cast.

To the Goolarabooloo indigeous, these dinosaur tracks are those of the Marrala, the Emu Man, a creator spirit. It was high tide when we got ashore and the dinosaur footprints are mostly viewed along the low tide mark.

With a tide swing of thirty feet it was going to be awhile and too close to departure.

On top of that, it was blistering hot (95+) with a sun that felt like the opening of an oven door. As much as we wanted to go to Cable Beach for a swim, it was Irukandji season (Nov to May).

The Irukandji are tiny box jellyfish and perhaps the most deadly creature in the ocean. Their toxin sets in quickly and can shut down a person’s breathing or organs in minutes. Although most people survive and not all with severe symptoms, it is not worth taking the chance–you cannot see these tiny glass-like creatures before it is too late.

The only establishment that seemed to be open was Matso’s Brewery–– a local’s Billibong that makes Scooters in Hobe Sound look like a Ritz Carlton lobby bar. I wanted to take a picture of the crowd gathered along the porch, but wearing a Kiwi cap at the time, it did not see like a good idea–I think I would take my chances with the Irukandji before this crowd.

We had a camel ride sunset tour arranged, but last minute they cancelled due to the high tides and erosion they have had recently. So this port of call was just not in the cards for us this day.

One day I hope to return to this last exit in Australia, but when and if I do (Meredith has already opted out due to the time it takes to get here), I will be wearing a crusher (outback hat) and hire an aboriginal guide to take me out along this fractal coastline, hopefully firing up a didgeridoo by a campfire, my face and body dot painted.

Farewell Australia and thank you for hosting this part of our journey. Bali and a surprise post… next time.

Until then, I think another dress is unhand for you.