The Hamersley Inlet Campground in Fitzgerald River National Park is situated at the centre point of the Hakea hiking trail at the intersection of the river and the Southern Ocean. Buffeted by strong winds, the trail connects the main beaches and lookouts of the National Park. The Park rises quickly above the beach; and is dotted with a handful of stark hills that look like waves set in stone.

Thanks to the informative signs, it turns out this is almost what they are. 700 million years ago, when Australia split off from chilly Antarctica, the sea level rose so much that these hills were islands surrounded by a shallow sea. Over time, the tumultuous seas shaped the islands into a wave-like pattern. Then, as the sea-level dropped, the islands created the conditions for some uniquely West Australian-looking flora.

After two days of not doing much exercise, we decide to walk east along the Hakea trail simply because the weather looks slightly more hospitable in that direction. Along the way, we discover a robust combination of harsh-looking plants with very delicate little pink, yellow and purple flowers. These are completely at odds with the hostile growing conditions.

But the real standout is the hakeas. With their striking yellowy-orange glow and giant spiky leaves, they are the epitome of ‘look but don’t touch’. Sprinkled among these remarkable-looking plants grow the bastion of the West Australian wildflower world, the banksias.

In wildflower season these must be quite something to behold because even now, in this so-called summer, they are the kind of flowering plant that tells an entire story in one bush. New young upstart flowers grow and bloom into pale yellow globes. Next to them, the middle-aged flowers change to a sunburnt orange. Nearby, the older blooms look on jealously as they try desperately to cling to their youth. Last, but not least, there are the hard, nut-like creatures with angry eyes saying the flower equivalent of ‘you kids, get OFF MY LAWN’.

On the second day, It rains a bit overnight but it’s still windy and no good for kayaking. After a trip to Hopetoun for more water, we pick up some fresh bread – a rare luxury in the days between Christmas and New Year in rural WA – and head back to the National Park. It has finally begun to clear and although the wind hasn’t dropped much, blue sky is peaking through.

Our plan is to hope the weather stays clear enough to climb East Mt Barren, the hill overlooking the east end of the Park. The view should be magnificent and the carpark is a blackspot of internet access, so the kids decide there’s nothing else to do but climb up the mountain.

We make the climb to the top with minimal whinging. The view at the top over Hopetoun and the rest of the Park is hazy but still magnificent. We see the two wind turbines that provide most of the power to the town and the coastline stretches out in front of us.

The weather is very erratic but on our third day it finally comes good. It’s now or never; we’re getting the kayak out.

We’re now over half way through the trip and the consistently windy weather has assured that we have barely used the boogie boards and the kayak not at all. But in the morning, I determine the wind is low enough and the sun is out enough that it’s time for the kayak to make an appearance. Turns out everyone else in a 200 km radius has noticed the weather change too. Except they all have jet skis instead. We tool around in the kayak for a few hours, dodging the wake of mulleted pre-teens on very expensive looking jet skis.

Liz and Pete turn up in the afternoon, having dispensed themselves of their kids that morning. We enjoy a chat and a few games and our kids eat all their snacks.

The next day, after a particularly violent thunderstorm early in the morning, the weather is back to grey and overcast. Pete and Toby decide to go fishing, with Augie keen to go along. Liz and Sarah drag a cranky Griff out for a walk. This takes us along the road and through a very 4WD track over some quite spectacular sand dunes. We eventually come across the men fishing and discover Augie and Toby have caught a pile of fish while Pete managed a single whiting. Something about not having the "right hooks", he says. Sure.