El Questro Station - The Kimberley
El Questro was our last stop on the Gibb River Road. Before visiting I’d seen the images of luxury units cantilevered over cliff edges and people dressed in white, sipping cooling cocktails in lush tropical gardens. Even though I knew we weren’t staying in those areas of the resort I guess I was expecting something a bit similar albeit with thong clad guests rather than manicured feet ensconced in Milano Biancos.
To access ‘The Station’ you first need to cross the Pentecost River. This is a bit of fun where you line up and take your turn to manouver your vehicle through about 1/2 metre of water. Our first impression upon driving in and seeing the numbers at check in, in the camping area and the helicopters landing near by was that El Questro was El Busy! After lining up with the masses at check in we quickly located our camp site. It was on the banks of the river with minimal grass. With site frontages only around 10m wide we were jammed in between a caravan….with a dog, cockatoo and generator…bloody great!….and a camper trailer. El Squeezy.
It was hot, so after setting up we headed to the amenities block for a refreshing shower. It was good to be clean again. This feeling lasted for around 5sec for as soon as I stepped out of the shower block a car with caravan drove past. A dust tsunami followed and promptly smothered my freshly washed person. El Dusty! As I stood there and waited for the air to clear I took a stab in the dark and thought , ‘I bet Katrina Rowntree doesn’t stay in this part of El Questro. ‘. Things could only get better from here …and they did.
Three El Squeezy camping sites away we spotted the group who helped us rescue a Japanese national who had broken down on the Gibb. That afternoon as the sun set and the welcome cool of the evening descended we all joined the other thong clad dusties in the beer garden and had a very pleasant evening listening to live music, while downing a few cooling ales and getting to know each other better. We went to bed content, happy and looking forward to the next days adventure.
Around 1am the next morning I was woken by rustling in the grass and a munching sound. There was clearly something big outside and it was eating something. As we were on the banks of the Pentecost River my mind went straight to crocodile! I didn’t know how it had managed to make its way up the high embankment or through the thick wall of tall grass reeds on top of the bank but I didn’t care. All I knew was we were in a ground tent and only a thin canvas stood between us and an ancient man eater whose species has been around longer than ours.
I shook the ‘mountain goat’ awake and exclaimed, ‘there’s something BIG outside.’ We could now hear it moving around knocking over the neighbours on ground solar panels and a few buckets or so. If it got entangled it could get aggressive. My panic levels were starting to max out. I wanted to scream into the quiet of the camp ground….. ‘Help! Man eater, 2 o’clock! Everyone evacuate!’ We grabbed a headlight and slowly zipped open the screen. Just a bit but enough to peek through. Our eyes fixed on 4 legs, a very robust brown backside and two very large horns sticking out either side. No crocodile but rather a heavy, horned, hungry bull. This didn’t make me feel particularly better as it was only a metre or two away. I took evasive action. I moved my air mattress at least 10cm further towards the back of the tent. There really wasn’t much we could do but hope it went away and after another hour or so of it snorting and knocking over camping gear it moved on.
Over the next 3 days the ‘mountain goat’and I tackled a few of the walks in the park. Each walk wasn’t overly long but most were over rocks…lots of rocks…and I am about as sure footed as a drunk drag queen dancing in ill fitting stilettos. The heat was oppressive and all the walks were rocky from the start. These factors combined meant I spent most of each walk sweating, sucking water and looking down working out where to plant my feet. It was a bit hard going. The mountain goat meanwhile would bound forward a bit and wait patiently for me to catch up. On one walk we had to shimmy around a 4 metre high tight rock ledge. A chain was hammered into the rock for assistance. I watched people older than me skip around no worries. I mustered my courage and clunkily made my way through. My confidence level suitably raised I moved forward with hubris for at least 5 min until we reached the next pinch point. My confidence dissipated as quick as it came. I knew my limits…..this would be our turnaround point.
My return journey through the chain was not as swift as my first. Halfway across I leaned back over the drop and felt 2 strong arms wrap me up and drag me onto the safety of the ledge. The mountain goat was white as a ghost and said, ‘ I thought you were going.’ I stood tall, dusted the dirt off my shorts and confidently said, ‘I was okay, just taking my time.’ But secretly I was glad he dragged me in. My hero. But don’t tell him. He’ll get a big head.
Despite my limitations, each walk was enjoyable and with each we were rewarded with a cooling dip in large, rocky swimming holes adorned with tropical plants, some with waterfalls cascading in. We usually shared these magical moments with about 40 other people. Despite the masses it all felt very ethereal until a thought occurred to me….I wonder how many people here have peed in this water!
Despite a pretty ordinary start we enjoyed our time at El Questro. Each afternoon we made good use of happy hour in the beer garden. One afternoon we jumped on board the Chamberlain Gorge cruise and were delighted when Archer fish shot water at us. Another evening we had dinner at the steakhouse which really was superb. While another night we shared pizza and good conversation with two brothers we toured Mitchell Falls with.
As a bit of a cynic I did wonder if ‘El Questro’ would be all it’s cracked up to be. I’m happy to say, it is. Whether you are starting your trip down The Gibb or like us, finishing your Gibb Adventure, El Questro is an oasis of civilisation in an otherwise barren landscape, that is well worth stopping for a night…….. or three. Just watch out for the bull!
If this story has stirred your adventuring spirit, I’d love you to visit my art gallery page and explore the drawings these travels have inspired. www.catherinegordonart.com
*We travelled to El Questro in July 2025.
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