The CrossingLookout 2 to Bunda Cliff Rest Area
Edge Of The World Stuff
A friend had told me there was one Nullarbor lookout we couldn't miss. Nearly fifty kilometres still had to be walked, but the detour made the edge-of-the-world promise feel completely real.
Before I left Perth, my friend Ben Harris told me there was a place on the Nullarbor that we had to see.
Not should see. Had to see.
It would mean a slight detour and a short walk, which is an easy thing to suggest when someone else is the one trying to move across the country on foot. But Ben Harris had already earned more than enough credit with me. He was the friend who had helped sort out my dead-car drama the day before we left Perth, and he was not prone to overselling things just for the sake of it.
His description was simple: real edge-of-the-world stuff.
I started from Lookout 2 Rest Area with Bunda Cliff Rest Area as the next overnight stop. It would be our second unpowered roadside night in South Australia, so we had kilometres, food, charging and water to manage before the day ran out.
The morning gave us a bit of drama before the cliffs did.
I started in the dark, then the sky opened into sunrise, cloud, a rainbow, and another set of iconic animal-warning signs: kangaroos, wombats, and camels for the next 96 kilometres. There were long highway stretches, big sky, and that strange mix of beauty and repetition that had become familiar across the Nullarbor.
Then we made the detour.
Official Lookout 1 did not sound like a place that would stop me in my tracks. The name was too plain for that. But the moment we walked out and saw the Bunda cliffs dropping into the Great Australian Bight, Ben’s words made complete sense.
It really did feel like the edge of the world.
The land just stopped.
After weeks of watching the country change gradually, this was sudden. Rock, water, weather, height, colour, wind. The turquoise ocean below. The cliff line running away into distance. Standing on the side of the continent made me feel tiny. Australia was huge on the map, and now I could feel its scale at the edge too.
I was glad we went.
That is an understatement, obviously, but some moments do not need much decoration. The three of us made the short walk to the lookout together. We took photos. We stood there for a while. The place did what Ben had promised it would do.
Then I still had to keep walking.
That was the funny thing about HAA. Even the spectacular moments did not remove the ordinary work waiting on either side of them. I could stand above the Great Australian Bight and feel impossibly lucky, then go straight back to the Eyre Highway and start counting the next stretch in tired steps.
The detour itself did not cost much physically: a little time, and a few extra steps that were not taking us forward. By the time I reached Bunda Cliff Rest Area, I had added another 49.9 kilometres.
The activity-distance total was 1698.7 kilometres.
We had crossed our first state border two days earlier. South Australia had already given me wet grey plain, a highway-maintenance philosopher, and now cliffs that looked like the country had simply decided to end. Even the overnight stop felt special.
Ben Harris was right.
It was worth the detour.
Videos From The Day
Campervan on the Eyre Highway
A short roadside clip of the support vehicle coming back along the Eyre Highway during Day 40.
Open on YouTubeWalking beside the Eyre Highway
A short clip of me walking beside the Eyre Highway before the lookout detour turned the day into something much bigger.
Open on YouTubeBunda Cliffs at Official Lookout 1
The view from Official Lookout 1, where Ben Harris' edge-of-the-world recommendation made complete sense.
Open on YouTubeImages From The Day
