Great North Walk – Day 9

“The Narrows” to the Watagan Forest Motel

Distance – 19km

“The story of the Bates Motel…..”

Had a great sleep, despite the wind, and was up early, anxious to get to the motel and all of it’s amenities. The Watagan Forest Motel….sounds nice doesn’t it. And so much going for it. When I’d had to change my plans, and without reception, I’d asked my sister to book me in, worried I might not get a room. As I walked I ticked off all of the amenities in my head – restaurant, outdoor garden, packed lunches, air conditioning, snack bar, bottle of water, shower…..oh, the gloriousness of it!

With all this luxury in mind, the first 6km passed quickly. “Hell yes!” I thought to myself. “I’ll be there in no time – maybe even before lunch…I can eat at the restaurant!” That was not to be.

“Not all kilometers are created equal. And that last 6km were the hardest so far! 5km more to the hotel. God I hope they have beer”

Message written to my supporters.

I don’t know whether it was because I’d psyched myself up to get to the motel quickly or not. But this next section was the steepest, rockiest, slipperiest, bitchiest, longest part of the walk yet! I really wasn’t having much fun. Eventually, after much muttering and swearing, I came to a picnic area and viewing point. Despite my mood, I did grudgingly admit that the view was good.

There was a large family sitting at the picnic table when I arrived. Initially, and most likely because I was in a snarly mood, I begrudged them the spot under the awning. With nowhere else to sit, I had collapsed onto the ground, squashed into a modicum of shade provided by a small shrub to have a snack. It soon became apparent to me however that the family were there for some serious business. They were about to scatter a family members ashes. My disgruntlement vanished.

I watched as the family members stood at the fence and a small announcement was made. The urn was held over the fence, tipped up, and….dropped. There was stunned silence from the group, shortly followed by a few muffled giggles. The dropping wasn’t supposed to have happened – they had hardly tipped anything out, and now the urn was just sitting there, upside-down on the other side of the fence! This was a group of rather large individuals too. Discussion ensued as to how they were going to get the urn back – there was nobody really capable of getting over that fence.

Guess who stepped in to help. I can’t say I’ve ever done that for anyone before. Jumped over a fence at an extremely high clifftop viewing area to retrieve a dropped urn for a family that I didn’t know. Obviously the family were thrilled with my efforts and thanked me profusely. I realised later that I had gotten the person’s dust on my hands. I didn’t know this person in life, but somehow I’d become involved in their death. It was quite humbling; a reminder of how precious life is, and reinforced what a privilege it was to be doing what I was doing. Right when I needed it most.

I continued on my way. The final 5km was down a very steep slope right next to the powerlines, before finally dropping onto a busy road – and the motel!

I stared at it, my expectations of a “forest” motel sinking dramatically. This was a squat, nicotine stained white building, baking in the stinking heat with thousands of cars driving past and no verandah whatsoever. The shower had better be fucking good.

I crossed the road and made my way to the “reception desk” which also doubled as the counter at the service station next door. When I told the operator that I had a booking at the hotel, I could have sworn he thought I had said that I was a mad queen who lived in Westeros and was the mother of three dragons. I don’t think they get many bookings. Rather than looking my booking up, which he assured me I hadn’t paid for yet, he offered me a room at a reduced price. He tells me that (surprise, surprise) I am to be the only guest. Ok, I accept.

“Is this where the food is served?” “How late does the restaurant stay open?” I enquire, pointing at the solitary table near the counter. “Ah. The restaurant has already closed for the day” I am told. It is only 2pm. “What about just kitchen food?” “Sorry, the fryer has already been turned off”. Oh… My…. God! I grab an assortment of cold sausage rolls and deep fried somethings from the unsavoury looking pie warmer and make my way to the unit. “It’ll be ok”, “It’ll be ok”. I put the key into the lock on the grime covered door.

This room had certainly seen better days. And whilst I’m quite the dog person, I found these two staring out at me vaguely disconcerting. In my head I had pictured a lovely cool fridge stocked with beers, snacks and little spirits bottles. Minibar denied. No beer. And not even the promised bottle of water!

Still, the cold drinks, warm food, shower and bed were like heaven….even though there was some random persons used soap sitting in the shower. I let that slide. After the shower, food and rest, I filled the sink and washed my clothes. Look away if you are squeamish.

Chores done, I grab some snacks and ice-cream for dinner. Finally I have some reception and make a call to the head of my support crew. It is so wonderful to talk to somebody. The support renews me. So lovely to see a friendly face.

I settle into the bed around 7.30 planning on an early night. I’ll just read for a bit and then drift…off….to…..sleep….I am blasted out of my reverie by thumpingly loud, heavy metal music. I look out the window and am certain this must be someone just grabbing something from the servo – nobody staying here could be this thoughtless, could they? My hypothesis explodes when a leaf blower starts up outside. I’m sitting on the bed, in what passes for my pj’s when you are carrying all your gear, and I hear the leaf blower coming closer and closer. Suddenly, there is a face pressed against my window! “Oh sorry love! I didn’t realise you were here!” I kind of half wave in embarrassed response. It doesn’t seem to concern him that he is peering into a strangers room at a motel. He continues leaf blowing. The music does not stop. Next up, he gets the shovel out and starts scraping out all the gutters. The shovel screeches against the concrete.

Eventually I get dressed and go outside. “Are you going to be working much longer? It’s just that I was hoping to get an early night”. AND SLEEP IN THE GODDAMN BED! BECAUSE I PAID ACTUAL MONEY TO SLEEP IN THIS SHITHOLE! “Oh, this music isn’t bothering you is it?” he replies. Eventually he leaves, and I am able to go to sleep – probable bed bugs and all.

“It was filthy. Definitely needs to be shut down and needs inspectors to inspect the place. 2.5 out of 10”

“The staff was nice but that is the only positive really”

“The doona smelled like cigarette smoke, the over-head light didn’t work, the room was freezing and there was no hot water for the shower. A bag of baby wipes was on the bench – now I know why they were there”

The 3 reviews left on Booking.com since I stayed. Luckily for them the shower in my unit was working – or I might have actually done a Khaleesi on them.