Hopping Through Paradise

Off the coast of South Australia, the kangaroos, wallabies and seals easily outnumbers the locals

BY SARAH TRELEAVEN

When a representative from Exceptional Kangaroo Island comes to pick me up from the island’s tiny Kingscote airport, he certainly looks the part. He is tall and broad, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a wide-brimmed hat that conjured up images of crouching behind scrub on a wide-open savannah in anticipation of watching a pod of wallabies hop by.

As it turns out, that's pretty much the plan. Kangaroo Island, located just off the coast from Adelaide, in the Great Australian Bight, has long been known for spectacular natural beauty. With wildly diverse topography—from dramatic cliffs that plunge into bright blue water and grassy savannas to massive limestone caves—the island feels both exotic and enticing. There's also an abundance of amazing wildlife, from kangaroos to sea lions and spiky little echidnas. Shortly into my visit, I glanced up at a tree in a eucalyptus forest and glimpsed a fluffy koala bear dozing in the midday heat.

But Kangaroo Island is starting to develop a different reputation, thanks to the remarkable—and growing—local food scene, where you can tour a sheep farm before sampling their exquisite cheeses, or wade into the clear waters before shucking a perfect oyster. And over the course of my 48-hour stay, I am shown the best of the island through wildlife spotting and gourmet sampling.

Our first top is Clifford Honey, a 23-year-old beekeeping family business. I meet Sharon Simons, the founder’s daughter, who explains that her father initially kept Ligurian bees (found only in Italy and Kangaroo Island) as a hobby, which later grew into a business.

“Ligurian bees are much less aggressive and they're great producers,” says Simons. “They’re the perfect bee.” We tour the modest farm, sampling honey and walking through the various stages of production, and then stopped in the gift shop for honey-flavored popsicles.

During my stay, I have many similarly intimate experiences, meeting owners and getting up-close tours of how things work. Kangaroo Island is a generous landmass, but small in population; there are only about 4,500 people spread across a little more than 4,400 square kilometres. One local told me that the island was so small that it lacks an abattoir, so all of the pigs and sheep raised there have to be sent to the mainland, a 45-minute ferry ride away, for butchering.

For a long time, wool was the primary business, but the crash in wool prices in the 1980s forced a diversification that has yielded much of the agricultural bounty visible today. A strong sense of community remains, as does a pride in making the most of the island’s natural riches.

The abundant environment is what lured Amanda Rowe to the island, where she now runs the Oyster Farm Shop. Previously working in IT in Adelaide, Rowe “wanted to raise my children free range.” She now farms more than 50,000 oysters per year in picturesque patches that sit in the clear blue waters near the Port of Pelicans. In a shed just a few feet from the water’s edge, Amanda plucks a fresh oyster from a basket and quickly shucks it. I take the shell and let the briny oyster hit my tongue. It’s crisp, slightly sweet and completely perfect.

Wildlife in Kangaroo Island is everywhere. On the way to lunch, we drive by flocks of black swans endemic to the island, and I scan the scrub brush alongside the winding single-lane highway in search of wallabies and echidnas. And I take in the spectacular scenery as we drive past eucalyptus forests and grassy savannahs, taking sharp turns that revealed plunging cliffs, white sand beaches and cresting deep blue waves.

The waves come crashing in on Snelling Beach.

A pristine white sand beach is framed by plunging cliffs and populated by dozens of seals—including fluffy little pups

I am already overwhelmed by the island’s beauty, but when we arrive at Sunset Food & Wine for a late lunch, I am astounded all over again. The small, open-air restaurant is perched on a hillside overlooking a beautiful bay on the island’s northeastern coast. I lingered over a superb array of highly local food and drink: a light rosé from one of the island’s small wineries; freshly baked sourdough with peppery wild olive oil; oysters with mignonette granita; King George whitefish with crisp asparagus; and soft gnocchi paired with crisp, deeply rich mushrooms. As I eat, birds flit around the bushes surrounding the patio. It’s the kind of view and food that makes you want to run away to an island paradise full of olive trees and Italian bees.

The next morning, I wake early and quickly drink a mug of coffee as I try to keep from being flooded with excitement. I am looking forward to seeing Flinders Chase National Park, a showcase of the island’s spectacular rugged coastline, and intrigued by the idea of visiting Remarkable Rocks, massive and weather-sculpted granite boulders jutting out of the ocean. But I am particularly eager to get to Seal Bay Conservation Park, home to more than 1,000 Australian sea lions.

Once we arrive, I walk to the end of a long wooden boardwalk and the most amazing view comes into sight: A pristine white sand beach framed by plunging cliffs and populated by dozens of visible seals—including fluffy little pups, some as close as 10 feet from where I was standing— sunning themselves and frolicking in the bright blue surf. I ease myself onto the sand, mesmerized to the point of being near-frozen, and simply watch the scene slowly unfold.

But the tour isn’t over quite yet. We have lunch under a white canopy in the middle of the bush, where my guide grills potatoes and fresh-caught fish, and prepares a salad that he serves along with a perfectly crisp local white wine.

When we finish, there is yet another surprise in store: We drive further into the bush, eventually stopping in a clearing. My guide, the wide brim of his hat pulled low over his brow, opens the truck and pulls out a table, two chairs, a thermos, some homemade cookies and a starched white tablecloth.

And there we sit, eating biscuits and drinking tea in the shade, as kangaroos gradually materialize before my eyes: lying under nearby bushes, hopping past with tiny joeys crammed into their pouches and stopping to raise their charming little faces to the warm late afternoon sun. It’s both a magical moment and a perfectly fitting way to end my Kangaroo Island adventure—where sunshine and simple pleasures meet wild, untamed and oftenunexpected delights.

A room with a view of the coastal wilderness at Southern Ocean Lodge.

Oyster Time.

Vivonne Bay Jetty.