Arriving, we discovered there was an admission charge, and once we'd made our way onto the drive around circuit I came to the conclusion it was money well spent, because I've never seen anything quite like these formations, and don't expect to see their like again.
The drive around route allows plenty of places to pull over and take in the scenery, and you're quite welcome to walk around, provided you don't touch or try to climb the structures. Madam took advantage of the chance to exercise the photographic skills, and we took our time around the circuit, parking at the Desert Lookout and setting out for a stroll around the walking track. I was amused to overhear a Chinese tourist (or perhaps a tour guide) remark this was too quiet for him and that he'd be happier on Swanston Street!
The walk through the landscape was enjoyable but time consuming, and once we'd made our way back to the car, navigated our way out, and set off for Cervantes and the Brand Highway, a four-thirty deadline meant that there wouldn't be many wildflower stops, since the ones in the book were away from the route Karen chose for us.
Delays at roadworks we'd sailed through unhindered on the way down didn't help matters, and as the clock headed towards four-thirty we were increasingly unsure of arriving in time. That side of things was complicated by uncertainty about where the place was. We'd booked by email, but I'd neglected to print out the reply that contained the directions.
I knew we had to go through Eneabba, and look for a right hand turn off at a distance that ended with a '2' north of the town. I thought it was 12, Madam failed to note the odometer count as we passed the township and we rolled relentlessly north as Mickey's big hand moved relentlessly south and were just about to push the panic button when, on a curve 22 km out of Eneabba, there was a sign indicating a right hand turn and an eight hundred metre drive over a good dirt road to our destination.
Madam had been unsure about things, but Hughesy had always been confident there'd be a sign on the highway indicating the existence of an establishment which depends on the arrival of paying customers for its existence, though, interestingly, Karen was completely unaware (at least as far as I could tell) of the Park's existence.