How the West Is Done Down Under

Thirty years ago, people came to this part of Western Australia’s coast to smoke pot and ride the waves. The Indian Ocean still pounds relentlessly, and surfers still search for the perfect tube, but when I visited last June, the only hemp I saw was braided into macrame plant hangers and woven into stylish clothes.

This corner of Australia--the Margaret River region--has grown up. Named for the river and the town that lie near its center, the area has established a reputation as the continent’s premier wine country. Its limestone caves are renowned for their dramatic beauty. Its forests of karri trees rival California’s redwoods in age, height and grandeur. Its scores of country inns and fine restaurants rival those anywhere in the country.

And then there are the beaches. Dozens of secluded stretches of sand beckon with the promise of quiet afternoons snoozing or smooching on isolated spits. Some are long and wide (Boodjidup Beach in Margaret River comes to mind), while others (Lovers Beach in Yallingup) are little spots nestled by azure water.

Such beauty goes by many monikers. Locals call the region “Margaret’s,” following the Australian propensity to shorten most every name. The area is also known as the Cape because it sits between Cape Leeuwin to the south and Cape Naturaliste to the north. The latter lies about 150 miles south of Perth and its neighbor, Fremantle, where my daughter Katie, 20, was wrapping up a semester abroad.

Both capes boast 100-foot lighthouses that have warned mariners away from the rocky coast for more than a century. A 75-mile hiking trail connects the two lighthouses--icons of a rugged land.

“Western Australia still has a bit of the pioneer spirit about it,” said Jo Tait, who converted a private home into one of Margaret’s most luxurious hotels, the 18-room Cape Lodge in Yallingup, where we stayed. “People still believe there is opportunity to build something of their own out here.”

The winding blacktop lane to the lodge took my wife, Colleen, our 17-year-old daughter, Betsy, and me past rows of chardonnay grapevines bracing for winter. The low afternoon sun painted the remaining foliage a brilliant gold as we made our way into a little valley.

The landscape was soothing, but our nerves were still frayed by the four-hour drive from Perth in a tiny rented Toyota: me driving on the wrong side of the road, my directionally challenged mate barking instructions, all of us expecting kangaroos to bound across the highway at any moment. Colleen needed a rest. I needed a drink.

We parked and made our way to the entrance, native stone crunching beneath our feet along the way. A staff member showed us to the drawing room, where a fire roared on the hearth, leaving a hint of pinyon in the air. Cool pink and beige walls, beautifully carved ceiling moldings and comfortable overstuffed furniture created an immediate and welcome respite.

It was midweek in the off-season, so even though Colleen and I have been married 22 years, we were given the honeymoon suite, the lodge’s nicest accommodation. We reveled in the simple elegance of the 600-square-foot living room, which had views of a small lake and garden beyond. Betsy was ushered down a winding path to one of the garden villas, a 400-square-foot room that also had a view of the lake, as well as a charming patio that caught the vestiges of the sun. Because of the favorable exchange rate, our room was only about $176, Betsy’s about $137--full breakfast and afternoon wine tasting included.

My favorite time at Cape Lodge was early morning. I got up with the sun, slipped into pants and a sweatshirt and headed out into the morning dew to tour the estate.

To the east lay a small stand of karri trees, a variety of eucalyptus with skinny trunks, smooth bark and foliage that resembles giant broccoli florets. Sunlight penetrating the forest canopy created a strobe effect as I jogged toward the vineyards beyond. Ring-necked green parrots broke the morning calm with their screeches. Smaller songbirds clung to the branches of conifers around the lake.

Staying in the honeymoon suite, I could do no less than play the dutiful husband, ending my morning rounds with a stop in the lodge’s kitchen for Sumatra coffee--one cup for me, one for my just-awakening bride.

The remaining hours of our days were spent navigating the region’s geography, which proved simple. Caves Road and Bussell Highway are the main routes, running north-south from one cape to the other. Caves Road hugs the coastline, while Bussell Highway slices through the interior. Wineries, inns and galleries line both routes, with the towns of Margaret River about halfway down the coast and Augusta at the southern end.

It was at Augusta where ships offloaded British settlers in 1830. In the early 1920s, the government launched the Group Settlement Scheme, which transported migrants from Britain’s crowded cities to Augusta and Margaret River’s summer swelter. The idea was to build a dairy industry in Margaret’s. The government organized the clearing of land, the building of houses, the digging of wells--and rewarded settlers with real estate.

Life was hard, and by the mid-’20s about one-third of the 3,400 “Groupies” had left. The remaining settlers, however, plodded on, and to this day locals proudly carry on what they see as a legacy of communal effort and hard work.

As we drove down Caves Road, the scenery was vaguely reminiscent of back roads in Napa Valley, at least the way they were 20 years ago--handsome, rustic, quiet. Our next stop, arranged for us by the lodge, was at Gunyulgup Galleries, where we visited with photorealism painter Ashley Jones and his wife, Nina.

The Joneses have owned the gallery for 14 years and have seen it grow into one of Western Australia’s largest, with more than 100 artists represented at any given time. Jones, 50, a surfer turned painter, named it after an aboriginal word that means “resting place near water.”

“You can be really free out here,” he said. “And there’s something about being on top of a 20-foot wave, then looking down and seeing the coral below. It’s you, your God and the forces of nature. It’s a natural high.”

We asked Jones to show us some of his favorite spots, and he obliged, taking us first to his studio and then to Smith’s Cove, a stone’s throw away. The sun was just breaking through the afternoon clouds, and mist hung delicately over the cove where waves pounded one after another. Jones paused, picked up a handful of wet sand and rubbed the little crystalline granules between his hands like a potter smoothing out clay.

“Come on back sometime when you have longer,” he shouted as we departed, trudging up a narrow path to the cliffs above. “You Yanks never take the time to really get to know a place.”

Next time, he said, we would go out on surfboards so I could see how peaceful the place can be--and then when the waves hit, I would experience just how bloody scary they sometimes are.

“You betcha,” I mumbled hesitantly. “Can’t wait.”

“When kangaroos fly,” Colleen countered under her breath.

We were ready for more roads less traveled, and the Margaret River Regional Wine Centre pointed us in the right direction, to the vineyards (and offered an economical way to ship bottles home).

We drove past Leeuwin Estate, where Tricia and Denis Horgan make some of the best Chardonnay in the country. Past the contemporary facade of Voyager Estates and what’s dubbed as “the largest Australian flag on the continent.” Past all the glassblowers, woodworkers and other artisans whose signs dot the highway.

A hard right along Sebbes Road took us to little-known Green Valley Winery, operated by Ed Green, 68, a retired meteorologist, and his wife Eleonore, 70, a retired oral surgeon. For 15 years they commuted from Perth to a hillside vineyard at the southern edge of the Margaret River area. Here they toiled in the vineyards on weekends: planting, pruning, nurturing more than 30 acres of grapes.

“It was a labor of love,” Ed said as he poured Green Valley Premium Dry White, a nice blend of colombard, chenin blanc and Muller-Thurgau grapes. We adjourned to the kitchen table for a late lunch of local meats and cheeses. The Margaret River Camembert and the Tasmanian olive cheddar paired nicely with Ed’s Gelignite Shiraz. It was a lively lunch, the Greens as interested in our life in Kansas as we were in their routine in Australia.

The next day we visited Green Valley’s winemaker, Keith Mugford, at his more renowned winery, Moss Wood. He led us through a warren of small buildings, ducking into a series of dark cask rooms to sample wine in various stages of fermentation. The rooms’ earthy scent blended with the sharp smell of oak barrels stacked high all around as Mugford poured samples of Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and a hearty Cabernet. We sniffed, swilled, spat--again and again.

We asked Mugford what wines he had in his own cellar. His favorites included delicate Pinot Noirs from Oregon, complex reds from Bordeaux and Burgundy, Cabernets from Napa wineries such as Stags’ Leap and Heitz Cellars and, not surprisingly, vintages from his own winery. (Critic James Halliday agreed with the last choice, writing in the Australian Wine Compendium, “If I were marooned on a desert island, and given the choice of one Margaret River vineyard, it would rest with Moss Wood.”)

We left the quiet of Moss Wood and continued down Metricup Road to rejoin Bussell Highway. In the town of Margaret River we stopped for lunch at Wino’s, a wine bar and restaurant with a laid-back ambience and a southern European menu. The restaurant proved to be much like the town: unpretentious and friendly. The roasted eggplant dip came with toast points; the yabbies (crawfish) were bathed in white wine, herbs and garlic butter.

Our exploration continued with stops in the boutiques and art galleries that line Margaret River’s main thoroughfare and other glassblowers and woodcarvers in the region. Collectors find their way to Alan Fox’s glass studio in Karridale, where Queen Elizabeth II is said to have picked up a piece of Fox’s signature blue-hued glass when she visited last year. We saw the work of Greg Collins, who fashions furniture from river banksia, a shrubby subspecies of eucalyptus called mallee, 400-year-old Tasmanian pine and black palm from Queensland.

Then it was back to Cape Lodge for a stroll and a nap before dinner. We were wise to rest before the culinary workout to follow.

Tony Howell (surfer by day, chef by night) conjured delicacies from land and sea, perfectly cooked and artistically presented: freshly shucked oysters with a tomato-caper-lime salsa; king prawn risotto with shaved Parmesan; char-grilled Pemberton marron (freshwater lobster) on palm sugar-dressed greens; and braised lamb shanks on creamy polenta. A Leeuwin Sauvignon Blanc and a Moss Wood Cabernet accompanied the parade of dishes, which ended with a toffee-crusted ginger-and-cardamom brulee--all fine and fitting tastes of the new Margaret’s.

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Guidebook: A Taste of Margaret River

Getting there: The Margaret River region is about 180 miles south of Perth. From LAX, connecting service (change of planes) is offered by Qantas, Air New Zealand, Singapore and Malaysia airlines. Restricted round-trip fares start at $1,841.

Telephones: To call the numbers below from the U.S., dial 011 (international dialing code), 61 (country code) and 8 (area code) followed by the local number.

Where to stay: Cape Lodge, Caves Road, Yallingup, Western Australia 6282; 9755-6311, fax 9755-6322, www.capelodge.com.au. We liked this 18-unit boutique hotel, a member of the Small Luxury Hotels of the World association. Fine dining room on site. Doubles from about $122 per night, including breakfast and evening wine. No children younger than 15.

Margaret River Hotel, 139 Bussell Highway, Margaret River 6285; 9757-2655, fax 9757-2994, www.netserv.net.au/mrhotel. Centrally located downtown. Doubles about $49-$67.

Broadwater Sanctuary Resort (formerly the Radisson Resort Dunsborough), Caves Road, Dunsborough 6281; 9756-9777, fax 9756-8788, www.broadwaters.com.au. A hundred rooms set on Geographe Bay just north of the Margaret River wine region. Rack rates run about $114-$145 per night, but specials are frequently offered.

Where to eat: For lunch, a good choice is Leeuwin Estate, Stevens Road, Margaret River; 9759-0000, www.leeuwinestate.com.au. Restaurant attached to tasting room of winery. Deck overlooks lawns and karri forest. Menu includes smoked salmon on shortbread, caviar, local fish. Main courses run about $13-$16.

Another good lunch spot is Flutes Restaurant (at Brookland Valley Vineyard), Caves Road, Willyabrup; 9755-6250. Specializes in local seafood such as capel marron, a freshwater lobster. Also open for dinner Thursday-Saturday; make reservations. Main courses run about $20-$30.

For dinner, we liked Cape Lodge’s (see above) glassed-in porch. Menu changes daily and may include venison, lamb, beef, seafood. Extensive wine list includes local labels. Prices range from about $8 for small entrees to about $14 for the largest dishes.

Also for dinner, Wino’s, 85 Bussell Highway, downtown Margaret River; 9758-7155. Southern European food; great fireplace. Entrees about $13 or less.

Vat 107, 107 Bussell Highway, Margaret River; 9258-8877. Shrimp, scallops, vegetarian offerings; all about $10-$20.

For more information: Australian Tourist Commission, 2049 Century Park E., Suite 1920, Los Angeles, CA 90067; (800) 369-6863, fax (661) 775- 4448, www.australia.com.

Another helpful Web site is www.margaret-river-online.com.au.

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Craig Ligibel lives in Mission Hills, Kan.