Tag Archives: Australia’s Best Camping

These are the best ten campsites in Australia.

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Camping at Freycinet National Park, Kerryn Burgess

Camping at Freycinet National Park, Kerryn Burgess

These are Australia’s ten best camping areas. Don’t trust us? Ask the camping expert.

Kerryn Burgess has the enviable job title of camping expert, which basically means she gets to camp around Australia for work. Her latest book, Australia’s Best Camping, reveals her pick of the top 100 camping spots around Australia. But even an expert has to have favourites, and here are Kerryn’s picks.

  The Whitsundays, Queensland

The best, most memorable camping in Australia (and therefore the world) can be found in the Whitsundays. And that’s no exaggeration. With white-sand beaches, warm azure water, lazy snorkelling and tiny campgrounds for just a handful of campers at a time, this really is paradise found. You can take your pick from campsites including Whitehaven Beach, Crayfish Beach, Maureens Cove, Planton Island, Denman Island, Sawmill Beach and Paddle Bay.

Leliyn (Edith Falls) camping area, Nitmiluk National Park, Northern Territory

If the Edith River flowed with cold beer and water nymphs provided free massages, Leliyn might be a better campground than it is – but only just. It’s the Top End campground of your fantasies, with a freshwater pool and great facilities.

Freycinet camping area, Freycinet National Park, Tasmania

Superb bushwalking and views you’ll remember for life at the best campground on Tasmania’s east coast. Every campsite has been designed for maximum view impact. Once you’ve soaked in the view, take one of the many walks.

Tulki Beach camping area, Cape Range National Park, Western Australia

Australia’s wildest, most rugged, most exhilarated coastal camping – and a close community of campers to swap stories with around the campfire. It’s a camping experience you’ll never forget.

Tidal River camping area, Wilsons Promontory National Park, Victoria

Tidal River is the biggest and the best national park campground in Victoria, with superb walking tracks and activities to rival Wet’n’Wild. With its hot showers, supermarket and coffee, Tidal River is closer to a camping town than a regular campsite. But with a spectacular wilderness at your tent flap, you don’t need the campsite to be wild too.

Rocky River camping area, Flinders Chase National Park, Kangaroo Island, South Australia

These gorgeous, private, bushy campsites have easier access to more native wildlife than any zoo, with wallabies at the campground and seals and sea lions not far away.

Dales camping area or Karijini Eco Retreat, Karijini National Park, Western Australia

Vast, remote gorges and dramatic landscapes in the heart of the Pilbara make for the camping experience of a lifetime – one the author found more valuable than a share in Gina Rinehart’s Pilbara operation.

The Basin, Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park, New South Wales

The Basin is a huge, grassy, shaded area that has access to all the coves, beaches, headlands and views that make the coast north of Sydney so special.

Green Patch camping area, Booderee National Park, Jervis Bay Territory

You’ll find a sparkling beach backed by bushland and birdlife at Green Patch, plus whales if you’re lucky. The campsite itself is also kind of sparkling, with tall trees, secluded areas, private corners – oh, and that extraordinary white sand beach.

Bald Rock Creek camping area, Girraween National Park, Queensland

Bald Rock Creek camping area is a beautiful and sympathetic blend of natural elements and functional campsites with access to one of the best collections of day walks in the region.

NOTE: Girraween National Park is currently closed due to fire danger.

Start planning your summer camping adventures with Kerryn’s book, Australia’s Best Camping.

     

Planning a camping trip

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Lane Poole Reserve camping area, Western Australia

A couple of months ago, I found myself driving along a dirt road through the bush south-west of Perth. It was dark, it was raining, it was past my dinner time, and I was lost.

I’d flown to Perth that afternoon and headed for Perth Hills Centre campground, near the airport, to stay the night. But it was booked out by a school group, and no amount of pleading with the volunteer camp host was going to help my cause. So around 7pm I headed south-west, with a road atlas but without a detailed map, to Lane Poole Reserve, 160km away.

The road soon narrowed to a rutted four-wheel track. There was nowhere to turn around so I kept driving, guiding the hatchback through head-high scrub. The track emerged at a river. I turned left and followed the river (and my instinct) back to a sealed road.

I returned to the ‘town’, I’d passed through earlier, hoping to ask for directions. It consisted of a servo (closed), a church (crumbling) and a hall (deserted). The few houses looked foreboding. My phone was no help – its GPS couldn’t get a signal and its maps didn’t show the campground. For the next hour I explored all the roads in the area, looking for the campground I knew only to be ‘around here somewhere’.

Through dumb luck, I found it. I drove a circuit of the campground. It was huge and there were no other campers (I love having a whole campground to myself). I turned off the engine and sat in the car in darkness, waiting for the rain to ease.

In the rearview mirror, I saw the headlights of a ute approaching. It, too, drove a circuit of the campground. Then it parked right alongside me, within touching distance. Two men got out, both swigging from stubbies of Swan Draught. One was thickset, the other lean.

People often ask me whether I’m scared of camping alone. ‘Not at all,’ I always say. ‘What exactly is it that I’m supposed to be scared of?’

The situation I found myself in now, alone in an isolated campground but for two men apparently intent on intimacy, seemed like the sort of the scenario I was supposed to be scared of. I sat tight and listened, my senses heightened.

‘Do you reckon we’ll need the frying pan for the sausages?’ said Thickset to Lean. They rummaged in the back of the ute by the light of their head torches, then wandered off through the rain to cook dinner in the picnic shelter.

There’s no dramatic punchline to this story. I was lost for no more than 90 minutes. I didn’t get bogged, I didn’t spend a night in the car, and I wasn’t assaulted. Thickset and Lean cooked their sausages, and then, without a word to me, they left. It was weird, harmless, and a little unsettling.

The experience reminded me of the value of planning. I could have booked a campsite. I could have carried a detailed map. I could have taken an earlier flight to avoid driving after dark.

In fact I love planning. Checklists, itineraries, maps, guidebooks – they’re in my blood. I have a genetic predisposition towards planning, if my aunt’s catering roster for our next family camping trip is any indication.

Aunty Gill’s meal roster for the next family camping trip.

Aunty Gill’s meal roster for the next family camping trip.

My tendency towards planning is so strong that sometimes I deliberately resist it. I try to relax, go with the flow, let things happen, trust that they’ll work out. That’s why I didn’t book a campsite at Perth Hills Centre, and that’s why I travelled without a map showing Lane Poole Reserve. 

My research itinerary

My research itinerary

The next day I headed east to the coast and explored Leeuwin-Naturaliste National Park. I discovered forests of tall trees and a campsite filled with wildflowers. Then I swung south-west again. Nannup, Manjimup, Muirillup, Wingebellup, Waychinicup: the towns and roads and national parks of this part of Western Australia read like a Geoff Mack song (‘I’ve been everywhere man…’). Snottygobble Loop wasn’t part of my plan but I stumbled across it.

Snottygobble Loop campground, Western Australia, is named after the snottygobble tree.

Snottygobble Loop campground, Western Australia, is named after the snottygobble tree.

In Shannon National Park I met another camper travelling solo, and we hung out for a few days. I couldn’t have planned to meet her. I couldn’t have planned to discover an amazing treetop platform in Mt Frankland National Park a couple of days before its official opening. I couldn’t have booked the world’s most perfect campsite in Waychinicup National Park, because it’s not bookable. But I was there first, and I nabbed it, and it was a highlight of my trip.

Waychinicup Inlet campground, Western Australia

Waychinicup Inlet campground, Western Australia

Sometimes the best experiences are the things you don’t plan.

Author Kerryn Burgess is on the road researching campsites for her new book, Australia’s Best Camping, which will be published in October 2014 by Explore Australia.

Buy Kerryn’s Cool Camping Australia: East Coast.

     

Lightweight camping

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The cycle-tourist I met at Coalmine Beach Holiday Park in Walpole, Western Australia, had ridden more than 500km from Perth with her camping gear.

The cycle-tourist I met at Coalmine Beach Holiday Park in Walpole, Western Australia, had ridden more than 500km from Perth with her camping gear

I’m obsessed with my weight.

No, not in the way you think. I’m talking about the weight of my camping gear, and the magic number on the scales is 23kg. That’s the luggage limit on Qantas and Virgin flights. It has ruled my life – culled my wardrobe, limited my diet and defined my very existence – for the past two months.

For two months I’ve been flying around Australia researching remote parts of the country for Australia’s Best Campsites, a travel guide which will be published in October 2014 by Explore Australia.

My routine is this: fly to capital city, rent car at airport, dash to supermarket to buy food and stove fuel, drive as far I can before nightfall, set up camp, rinse and repeat. So far I’ve taken 10 flights, rented six cars, and eaten 47 heat-in-the-bag instant Indian dinners (hey, they’re delicious).

Camping without an esky or a fridge means a lot of lentils and beans.

Camping without an esky or a fridge means a lot of lentils and beans

So how easy is it to fit all the gear you need to be totally self-sufficient into one bag weighing no more than 23kg? Tent, sleeping mat, sleeping bag, stove, pots, eating utensils, clothes, toiletries, waterproof gear, torch, spare batteries, first-aid kit, maps … these things add up.

It’s do-able, if you plan carefully.

My top tip for camping by plane: make some friends. Travel with one or two other people. A group of three is the most efficient number in terms of weight. Three people can share a lot of the same gear that otherwise one person would use alone – tent, stove, pots and first-aid kit, for example. A lightweight three-person tent divided by three is still lighter than a one-person tent divided by one.

Mind you, I’m not following my own advice. I’m camping solo. So that person you saw at Darwin airport last week wearing a Goretex jacket and hiking boots in 36-degree heat? That was me with all my pockets bulging full of socks, undies and everything else that wouldn’t fit in my backpack.

Which brings me to my second tip: practise lightweight camping by going hiking (or bike-touring) for a couple of days. There’s nothing like carrying everything on your back for 25km to change your idea of what’s essential and what can stay at home. That’s how I learnt that no, I can’t enjoy a camping trip without real coffee, even if it means lugging a plunger over the top of the Andes.

For this hiking trip in Chile, my ratio of pack-weight to body-weight was about 1:3. My shoulders would have been much happier with a ratio of 1:5.

For this hiking trip in Chile, my ratio of pack-weight to body-weight was about 1:3. My shoulders would have been much happier with a ratio of 1:5.

My third tip: you don’t need as many clothes as you think you do. On my latest trip I knew I wouldn’t see a laundry more than once a week and I packed accordingly. That meant 14 socks. Don’t tell anyone, but it turns out I’m usually wearing the same socks three days in a row. (You were wondering why I’m camping solo? Now you know.) So I’m travelling with a whole lot of excess socks, which explains the Michelin Man look at Darwin airport. Don’t even get me started on the undies situation.

For me, gear is a means to enjoying a camping trip. For some, gear is virtually an end in its own right. And if you’re a gear freak with cash to spare, lightweight camping is easy – just keep spending money on smaller and lighter stuff until you’ve got almost nothing to show for it. I’ve known hikers who love heading into the mountains for three nights with less than 10kg of ‘food’ and equipment. ‘Food’ means protein bars, soaked cold noodles and peanut butter. No cooking, no stove weight, no worries.

I’m mocking them, yet really we share the same philosophy – that reducing the amount of ‘stuff’ we have frees us up to enjoy the natural environment. Which is the whole reason I love camping in the first place.

I haven’t seen many other lightweight campers during my trip, although I’ve seen plenty of travellers who look equipped to launch the next expedition into space.

T-9 minutes and counting: set for launch from Wilpena Pound campground, Flinders Ranges, South Australia. The ute travels on the trailer behind the bus under the boat.

T-9 minutes and counting: set for launch from Wilpena Pound campground, Flinders Ranges, South Australia. The ute travels on the trailer behind the bus under the boat

Less stuff means less time earning money to buy the stuff, less time setting up camp, less time packing up, less stuff cluttering up the view of the bush, and more time sitting around the campsite drinking tea. Or fishing. Or building sandcastles. More time birdwatching, or bushwalking.

Less gear, more time: Lake Catani, Mt Buffalo National Park, Victoria.

Less gear, more time: Lake Catani, Mt Buffalo National Park, Victoria

That said, my philosophy (and the airline luggage limit) means I’m camping without a chair, and right now I’d give anything for a chair. I guess everyone has to figure out their own camping comfort zone. I’m still figuring out mine.

Chairs: the keys to camping comfort

Kerryn Burgess is the author of Cool Camping Australia: East Coast, and is currently on the road researching campsites for her new book, Australia’s Best Camping, which will be published in October 2014 by Explore Australia.