Leeuwin

Leeuwin, WA — you know you’re officially too rich for your own good when your wine region has a **private landing strip** so you can skip the four-hour drive from Perth like it’s a humanitarian crisis. The Cessna touches down on the lawn at Leeuwin Estate, pilot steps out in linen, smells the karri forest, and immediately complains the Cape to Cape track is “rough terrain” after walking 2km to the lighthouse. Five minutes later, they’re posing at the 1895 Cape Leeuwin Lighthouse for a selfie captioned “humility before nature” while refreshing the whale-watching alerts. We see you.

Saturday morning, we’re all doing the same loop: park the 2024 Raptor at the trailhead, hike a fraction of the 130km track, then hit the wisteria-draped verandah at Leeuwin Estate for a six-course degustation with Art Series wines. The real connoisseurs? They’re not talking acidity — they’re arguing about whether the **oyster farm expansion** in the bay is “the silver bullet for the local economy” or “the death of the quiet life.” The council meetings devolve into a wine-fuelled shouting match between the progress camp and the “it’s getting too busy” camp. Meanwhile, the Facebook group is losing its collective mind over a proposed $5 parking fee for non-locals at the lighthouse.

But the real misfit here? The 24-year-old surfer in a rusted HiAce who got banned from Leeuwin Estate for bringing a carton of VB to a degustation. They think the lighthouse is a tourist trap, the oyster farm is “buggering up the bay,” and the Cape to Cape track is just an excuse for city people to litter. They work odd jobs at the wineries to fund their quiver and will never, ever tell you about their secret fishing spot.

Who’d love it here? Retired Dalkeith couples in white Land Rover Defenders with ironic “Keep Margaret River Feral” bumper stickers, who know the difference between corked and corky and will tell you loudly in the tasting room. Who’d hate it? Anyone who thinks a weekend escape shouldn’t require a flight plan.