Where the Bloody Hell is Hamelin Pool?

Due to reader requests, here is an attempt to describe and locate Hamelin Pool for those of you whose tragic lack of interest in stromatolites has left you bereft of key geographical knowledge. The stupid wretched blog site is still not loading photos so I will add maps later.

It's halfway between Geraldton and Carnarvon, about 230 km in either direction. Drive for ages on straight featureless highway through locust plagues until you get to Overlander Roadhouse in the middle of godforsaken ass nowhere. If you haven't been run down by a gigantic terrifying road train or fallen asleep at the wheel, turn left for Monkey Mia & Denham, but make sure you buy a satay chicken roadkill kebab from the roadhouse first because after that it's kangaroo or tinned tuna. Also this is where you check your stock portfolio because unless you have an endorphin-crazed diesel mechanic busily making you a satellite dish with his bare hands, there is no more internet or phone reception until Denham.

Follow the Denham road for approximately 30 km, there are plenty of wide shoulders where you can pull over to throw up your kebab. Turn right at the stromatolite sign and continue for another 5 km past Hamelin Pool Station and wonder why their goats are loose on the road. The entrance to Hamelin Pool Telegraph Station & campground is about 1 km past the dead kangaroo on the left. Turn right past the French backpackers sneaking into the camp shower block and try to park without taking out one of the randomly placed wooden posts which Duncan put back after the last time you ran them over.

Waggin' Trail can be found behind the luxurious modular hovel 'n' annex combo nestled cosily between the diesel generator shed and the terrifying empty expanse of the outback. Highlights of the area include a selection of highly poisonous snakes, toasty summer temperatures of 55 degrees, mad people running the shop and Duncan swearing at the water pump. Once you have seen the stromatolites and been trapped in a boring conversation with Bob, you can pass the time filling the washing machine by hand or wondering why there is an abandoned VW Golf painted grass green behind the other shed.

The Hamelin Pool Nature Preserve regulations can be easily disregarded by driving the 4X4 ute over the bit of "broken" fence out the back while drinking a lot of beer and dragging your tinny, dog, fishing gear and other "banned" items across the fragile shell beach where you can go snorkelling in the secret prohibited giant stromatolite section that the tourists don't know about. While you're there, why not light a fire? The old "no fires allowed" signs make great kindling, and the government conservation rangers are all in the pub at Denham pretending to look for undersized fish.

Night life consists of eating too much kangaroo steak, poking at the fire drum and firing warning shots over the backpackers trying to hide their Wicked campervans behind the picnic shelter; then it's off to your trailer to watch Get Him to the Greek for the fortieth time because that's the only DVD in the entire place. Fall asleep to the relaxing sounds of Smokey crashing around on the roof of the trailer, various human & animal snoring and kangaroo bone dog farts, wondering when you last had a shower.

230 km drive if you run out of loo paper