My Coral Coast Run, Perth WA

Nowadays, my regular morning run finds me on a stunningly beautiful trail along the southernmost part of Western Australia’s Coral Coast. So distinctively itself, it has an unforgettable sense of place and reminds me of absolutely nowhere else I’ve been or seen.

(Western Australia has a phenomenal 10,194 kilometres of coastline, by the way – the longest in this vast country.)

Sandy soil supports a variety of acacia shrubs, bushes, grasses and other hardy coastal species, where lurk – and sometimes alarmingly emerge from – snakes, skinks, bobtails, bandicoots and other indigenous creatures.

At numerous points, you can head off the path to explore the rocks or swim in the clear sea

From the house in Iluka, Joondalup, some 30km north of Perth, it’s a little under a kilometre directly down a gradual descent to Burns Beach. Turn left alone the dual-use path (pedestrians and bikes) for the hilly-ish hike to Iluka Beach (1.5km) and on to Mullaloo (about 5.5km). A couple of times, I’ve continued to Hillary’s Beach, exactly 12km from our front door, to meet the family for a late breakfast at the Sorrento Beach Shack.

Lots of young mothers walk or run with their babies – can’t think of a better way to burn off that baby-fat!

Apart from other runners of all ages, you share the path with cyclists and walkers – often young mothers, carrying their progeny in slings or wheeling them in prams, or having some me-time with their mates. And you hear as many British and South African accents among them as you do Aussie. I’ve stopped being surprised to hear snatches of Afrikaans; in fact, there’s an Afrikaans primary school in neighbouring Mindarie.

Creatures great and not-so-great

I’m a woefully unobservant person – let’s hope I’m never the sole witness to a major crime – so no doubt I miss a lot along the way. But loud shouts of “Snake! Snake!” from two female cyclists alerted me the other day to the large, greeny-brown serpent coiled up just inches from the edge of the path. Judging from its thickness, it might have been some sort of python.

Not 500 metres further on that same morning, I chanced upon something far cuter – a bandicoot, which was inspecting something in the path and didn’t even bother to move out of my way. I’ve been carrying a camera or at least my phone ever since that run.

Here’s a picture of a bandicoot that I borrowed from the internet – the animal I saw, though, had a slightly longer nose; it stood about a foot or 30cm tall

Who gave such a swashbuckling name to this benign little marsupial, and why? For days after spotting it, I had that verse from Lewis Carroll’s nonsense poem, Jabberwocky, on the brain:

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun,

The frumious Bandersnatch!”

Ridiculous, I know.

A bobtail crossing the path, as they quite often do – this one is close to one of the useful 100-metre markings along the route

Bobtail lizards are a regular sighting – they seem to cross roads and paths quite a lot. According to something on the ABC News website, these “oversized skinks” are monogamous, they move around so much because they’re looking for their mate; what’s more. they love to eat snails and strawberries. How heart-warming. I snapped this one right along a running trail that’s not known for these particular two comestibles. Perhaps he was heading for Burns Beach Café?