The end of our Queensland travels

Reluctantly, we left the town of 1770 and our site right beside the beach, heading south to the metropolis (by comparison) of the Sunshine Coast.

We’d booked a site in a caravan park on the Maroochy River, quite close to where Penny’s prospective in-laws live, so had a wonderful time catching up with them and a couple of others who’ll  be at the wedding on September 8.

We cruised around the coast, quite astonished by the amount of suburban development and high-rise apartment blocks, but must admit the beaches are glorious. There was a lot of heavy-duty shipping lurking offshore, waiting for the word to enter the Brisbane port and even as we watched from the Point Cartwright lighthouse, two headed south, obviously under the control of pilots.

Looking back at Mooloolabah development from
Point Cartwright.

Today we left the coast and headed for the hills, thoroughly enjoying wandering through Mapleton, Montville and Maleny.

We’d already bought seafood on the coast and we topped this off with some delicious cheeses from Maleny Cheese . . . some for us and some for Penny.

The Glasshouse Mountains on a hazy day from the Maleny
area.

As a bit of nostalgia for my mother’s family, who had been dairy farmers in the Maleny area for a couple of generations, we drove along Mountain View Road, where my grandfather had his farm. As the name implies, it looks down on the Glasshouse Mountains to the south, and I remember it as all farmland. Now, it’s positively suburban, but the Mary Cairncross Park remains and that’s where we had our lunch.

We arrived in Penny’s Brisbane street while she was still at work so will have the house to ourselves until she returns with the boys from daycare in a few hours.

After spending at least one night with her, we’ll head back to Goolmangar, and that, dear friends, will be the end of our travels.

I know many of you feel you’ve travelled with us. Well, you’ll just have to go it alone from now on . . . but we HAVE made bookings on the Spirit of Tasmania to take the motorhome to that island state in December for 2 months, so I might be persuaded to write a blog about that as well.

Thanks for your comments and good wishes. We have had an idyllic 11 weeks together, exploring Queensland, and even after living in such a confined space for that time, we’re still speaking to each other!

Paradise With a Pub

If we thought Cape Hillsborough was Paradise, well now we’re in Paradise With a Pub.

After a wonderful few days with our friends Judith and Barry at Yeppoon, we moved further south to the town of 1770.

Gladstone marina.

On the way we visited Gladstone, which we really liked for its mix of industrial bustle and reef access. When we were watching the boat loading with passengers for Heron Island, John, who has been there twice already, announced that that’s definitely on our list for next year.

I think we’ll need a year of 24 months to accommodate all the places we want to see in 2013.

On we went to Boyne Island and Tannum Sands, where we had lunch beside a perfect little beach . . . so that’s on our list as well.

We had booked with a caravan park at 1770 and when we pulled in, realised it was not the one John had seen illustrated somewhere, right on the beach.

However, the next day, while we were pondering where we would move to next on our way south, we had a long walk (abt 6km return) north along the peninsula (which is almost a miniature version of Cape York Peninsula), past the marina and boat ramp where cruises go daily to Lady Musgrave Island, past the pub and a fringe of houses fronting a glorious bay, past a picnic area busy with Saturday family barbecues, and we came to the 1770 Campground.

This is our beachfront site. Life is tough.

We secured a site right on the beachfront for a couple of nights, celebrated with a meal at the pub, then walked back to our other caravan park for one more night.

This morning it was a simple matter to pack everything up, drive just up the road to where the Discovery Coast markets were being held, bought a few things, then kept driving to the campground where we are very happily settled.



The locals were very laid-back at the markets.

There are boats moored in the channel, people fishing off rocks, and even from folding chairs right on the water’s edge at low tide, shady trees everywhere, and a young family next door of Italian-Brazilian background.

At the market today we bought some olives from local producers who know the Northern Rivers well and in their youth used to camp at Paddys Flat (that’ll bring some memories to MY family).

Fishing, the easy 1770 way.

Jottings from Paradise

We’ve been out of contact in Paradise for several days at Cape Hillsborough National Park, staying in a resort (cabins and caravans) right on the beach. It’s only about 40km north of Mackay.

It was fairly crowded when we arrived on Saturday, but luckily I’d phoned ahead and booked so we had a site waiting. The campground cleared out on Sunday, obviously people just weekending, and has been relatively quiet ever since though we’re told there are some folk in caravans on the top level who come from the south for months.

It has a perfect bay and beach, rocky headlands around which one can scramble, and a small island linked by a rock causeway that goes under at high tide.

The causeway that was nearly our undoing.

There’s a 3km walk (or climb) to various lookouts, returning along the beach. We did that this morning, crossing over the causeway to explore the island and have a banana and a drink from the backpack I’d been carrying throughout our walk. Suddenly I realised that part of the causeway was awash so there was a bit of a scramble . . . and a wade . . . through the big rocks forming the causeway. We were wearing strong hiking boots so they stood it rather well but the seawater still came in over our ankles.

Naturally, we hadn’t really thought about the tide and it turned very fast!

The cabins and the tent camping areas, as well as spaces for motorhomes, are at beach level, with just a thin fringe of trees through which one walks to the beach. Then there’s a rock terrace on which sit quite a lot more caravan sites as well as amenity blocks, laundry, pool, etc.

Scrub turkeys fossick around most of the day and yesterday a randy male turkey had the hens on the run most of the time. As well there’s a big old kangaroo who lies around under the clothes lines. He literally lies there all day, turning his head to nibble at the grass, the picture of indolence.

The resident kangaroos, keeping an eye
on the washing.

On the wildlife front, we saw turtles in the sea from one of the headland lookouts this morning during our walk, and John, who was walking in front of me, suddenly propped to let a diamond-backed black snake glide across the path and into the bush. We’re told there may be kangaroos and wallabies on the beach at 6am (and we saw back claw-marks of one while walking there late this morning) but we’ve never been up in time to see them.

It has been lovely just being totally idle for a few days, reading, sleeping, walking, but not swimming as the water is actually quite cold.

We’ll wander down the coast when we leave tomorrow, planning to catch up with friends in Yeppoon on Wednesday.

PS: We’re now at Yeppoon, with the motorhome in the driveway of our friends’ house.

Old friends, and back in the bush

What a great couple of days we’ve had! After leaving Cairns we called in at a few beaches en route to Townsville, then arrived at the Rowes Bay Caravan Park . . . packed to the gills so we had an unpowered site for the first night, then were moved to one with power.

Early morning on The Strand, looking across at
Magnetic Island.

We did the tourist bit the next day, enjoying every inch of that city’s beautiful Strand along the seafront, and walking through the magnificent Queen’s Gardens, full of tropical splendour. We were finally able to identify a tree we’d seen all over the north, and had sat under at Karumba Point tavern as Beauty Leaf.

Then we took a deep breath and drove the Isuzu to the top of Castle Hill, which dominates the city skyline. Up and up we went for 2.9km on a steep and winding road, but the 360 degree views at the top were just great.

That night we had dinner with an old friend from my days at Brisbane Girls Grammar and the next morning set off for Charters Towers.

One of the 2 hotels still in Ravenswood. There
used to be 48 in its glory days of gold-mining.

We made a detour on the way to the historic village of Ravenswood, which had had its heyday in the 1880s with 48 pubs and assorted services. Now there are just 2 left but behind the village is a whacking great open cut mine which is once again extracting gold.

Then we drove on to Charters Towers and out to the property of friends Ann and Bob Taylor, who had been at Charters Towers High with me. They opened their hospitable arms to us and we had a great night there, with John riding off into the sunset with Bob at one stage on quad bikes to inspect the property. I was able to enjoy pix of a June centenary reunion of the high school, seeing faces I had not sighted for around 50 years.

They warned us it was going to be a cold night, and it was, with Bob’s thermometer recording a reading of 3 sometime during the night outside. When we awoke it was 11 in the motorhome, but with the touch of a button, the diesel heater turned on and we didn’t get out of bed until it reached 19.

My grandmother's house in Charters Towers, now
a Mormon church.

That morning they accompanied us to Charters Towers and then drove us around on a great tour. One highlight was visiting my grandmother’s retirement house after she left the Boulia home property, built originally for the owner/manager of one of the biggest mines, so I guess it would also be an 1880 number. It’s now owned by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and all locked up but we were able to walk around while I remembered my step-grandfather sitting on one of the verandahs having his mid-morning drink of cold tea from breakfast, laced with rum.

The town really does have some of the most beautiful buildings and we thoroughly enjoyed walking around and soaking it all in.

After lunch we parted company y, with Bob and Ann going back to their property to prepare to return to their home in Townsville that afternoon and we headed east towards Townsville. We turned south before we reached that, taking a shortcut to the Bruce Highway near a place called Giru. This brought us back into the sugar country, with the mills going full steam, literally, and sugar trains bisecting the highway every so often. One we saw must have had 200 bins on it.

And then we saw a sign that the Brandon tavern had caravan accommodation, so here we are for the night. There’s lots of green grass and only about 3 other motorhomes/caravans . . . and a short path takes us to the tavern where we’ll probably have a drink and a meal later.

It’s so much better than a crowded caravan park and we haven’t had to let go our pleasure at being in the bush again by adapting to a busy urban environment.

Clean as a whistle in Cairns

We’ve had several days in Cairns but we certainly have not been idle. Not only did the new big batteries have to be fitted, but we had to get rid of the dust and grime from 8 weeks of travelling, particularly on Cape York Peninsula.

While John and his mate Rick did the battery-fitting bit, I started with a swift and thorough clean of the bathroom.  Then I left them to it while I went to town on a mother-of-the-bride dress-hunting expedition. As some of you know, once we reach home I will have only have 3 weeks until Penny’s wedding in Brisbane, so I decided to have a little hunt around Cairns.

And it succeeded! Not only did I find a dress that suited, but also satin shoes and bag AND a matching fascinator. All are now safely stowed in a storage space beneath a dinette seat and it’s a load off my mind.

As part of the major clean of the interior, we went out the next morning and bought a small vacuum cleaner. We’d been trying to manage with just a broom but dust gets into places even water won’t and we needed that extra suction to make everything clean. We worked like navvies for the rest of the day, wiping down all surfaces, including the walls and ceiling, until sure everything was sparkling.

We took time out for some walking, including one to Centenary Lakes and the Cairns Botanic Garden . . . but I forgot to take my camera. We were blown away by some of the wonderful tropical plants there, particularly those in glorious flower.

Just some of the orange tents.

Our site in Cairns Holiday Park is opposite the tent-camping area and we’ve been intrigued by all the young European backpackers and tourists. We’ve decided we MUST be getting old as a lot of them honestly don’t look old enough to be out without their mothers.

Large bunches of them arrive in buses, they pitch matching orange dome tents, then they trek off each day to the various forest and reef attractions.

We had a chat to a young French girl who had driven with her girlfriend from Perth (around the Top End). Another traveller had given her the remains of her groceries and washing liquids, etc and as the French duo (+ her friend’s parents, who had just arrived) was moving on towards Melbourne, she came over and gave the bag of stuff to us.

It turned out she came from Montpellier, a city I know fairly well in the south of France, so we had a few moments of talking about places we both knew around that region. Once again, small world!

This morning, we were up at the crack of dawn, with electricity, water and grey water hoses disconnected by 7.15 so we could take the Isuzu in for a service. The dealer’s courtesy bus dropped us on the esplanade where had a slap-up breakfast, then walked it off for the next 6 hours.

The crew hard at work on Rasa, from the Cayman Islands.

We checked out the marina, with some huge yachts moored there, one in particular from Georgetown in the Cayman Islands, was having some attention to its timber railing (or what the Yanks call its ‘brightwork’) from its crew; then watched one of the many tourist boats to Green Island depart.

There were some great exhibitions on at the Cairns Art Gallery, including one called Ghost Nets, which featured art works made from the fishing nets that drift and endanger sea life. Quite a lot were made by people from Bamaga and Seisia, where we had been, so we found that very interesting.



The waterfront lagoon at Cairns.

After more walking, we came to a large shopping centre where we found a couple of things on our shopping list, and finally, around 1.15pm, the call came that the service was completed.

Now safely back in the caravan park, we’re starting to plan our next move south to Townsville.

Green, green grass!

Here we are in sunny Cairns. You just cannot imagine the rejoicing when we left behind the corrugated roads and red dust of Cape York Peninsula. In fact, when we spent the night in the camping ground next to the Lions Den Hotel, just south of Cooktown (more of that later), the grass was so green we almost felt like rushing out and rolling in it!

We had left Coen, aiming to stay in Cooktown, then the next day go south through a rural valley to start the Bloomfield Track to Cape Tribulation, Daintree and places south.

When we hit the bitumen just south of Laura . . . and the construction the locals are calling the Laura Harbour Bridge, it’s so big . . . we just couldn’t believe that the days and days of red dust were over. Without really counting it up, I think we did about 1400 km on those dirt roads to the Tip and back.

The musical ship at Cooktown that one
can climb into and make music.

Anyway, off we sped to Cooktown and on the way I was reading a tourism booklet which mentioned that the historic Lions Den Hotel, established for miners in 1885, also had a campground with powered sites. We would have gone past it the next day anyway on our way south, so we phoned from Cooktown and they guaranteed us a site after we’d finished sightseeing in Cooktown.

It’s a nice little town, full of references to James Cook, including a wonderful monument that almost equals Nelson’s Column for Victorian pomp and ceremony. It has water fountains on all 4 sides, with the water coming from four different animals mouths . . . a rabbit, a pig, a deer and what looks like a cat but may have been intended as a koala. Those water fountains don’t work now, but nearby in the park is a very modern installation, a musical ship. There are all kinds of things on board to play, from a marimba to pipes to tuned bells.

We nearly got blown off the top of the hill Cook had climbed while his vessel was repaired below on the river bank. He was fairly depressed by sighting nothing but sandbanks to the south and knew his only way out was northwards.

The entrance to the Lions Den Hotel, complete with a
fairly mangey lion, under one of the huge mango trees.

After that, we fuelled up and set out for the Lions Den. The campground was gorgeous, lush green grass, some of the biggest trees I’d seen in weeks, including a mango of venerable age in full flower. A great little creek runs at the bottom of the campground, perfectly safe for swimming, unlike so many others we’d seen with warnings about crocs.

We ate at the hotel that night, which has had a modern deck put on it to cope with increasing popularity and seemed to be staffed entirely by British and Irish backpackers.

In an aside, everything in northern and western Qld seems to run on the work of these young visitors. The Bramwell Junction roadhouse had French and Scottish girls (because the owner couldn’t get Aussies to work there); an Irish lad served us coffee at the Musgrave roadhouse further south; and the barmaid at the Coen pub was from England.

Off we set the next morning for our date with the Bloomfield Track. It’s only 34km from what used to be called Bloomfield but now has the name of Wujal Wujal and has a great Aboriginal art gallery (where John bought me a necklace made by a local). But those 34km are very slow, very rocky and certainly only suited to 4WDs.

The causeway over the Bloomfield River that marks the
northern end of the Bloomfield Track. After that I was
 too busy holding on to take photos.

At one creek crossing through shallow flowing water over large river stones, we saw a trail of something liquid well away from the water, and just ahead we found an ordinary Magna sedan stopped, leaking oil from underneath. There was nobody with it, but the back seats were still piled high with belongings. We just couldn’t imagine the cost of getting such a vehicle retrieved from such a place.

The track ends at Cape Tribulation and after we’d become used to being back in civilisation, with clean cars all around us, we spend further south to Daintree where we decided there was no point staying, so went on to Cairns.

We’d chosen a particular caravan park as it was close to the CBD and the Isuzu is booked in for a service on Monday; AND we needed to replace the house battery that had cracked.

As we entered through a boom gate, who should be coming out in his little 4WD but Rick Blatchley. We hadn’t seen him and Barb since Winton and we knew they would be somewhere in Cairns, but had no idea where.

So lots of socialising last night and this morning, while they went off to Kuranda, we went in search of batteries. These we found, had to get 2 (at fairly vast expense) as they operate everything in the ‘house’ part in series, from the solar panels, and John and I managed to get them out of the motorhome entrance where the lads had put them (they weigh 75kg each), ready for him to put in tomorrow, probably with Rick’s help.

We took the vehicle to a truck and car wash where John scrubbed the dust of Cape York off it and from under it, we did some food shopping and returned to our shady spot where we’re booked into until Tuesday morning.

Nearly out of the red dust

So, teeth no longer gritted against corrugations, we are relaxing in Coen, halfway down the Cape from the tip to Cairns.

The vehicles ahead of us boarding the Jardine River Ferry,
just south of Cape York.

Our battery problems meant we had no power in our ‘home’ part of the motorhome while travelling so we simply cleared the crisper sections of the fridge and freezer, bought 2 bags of ice before we left the Bramwell Junction campground where there was no power, but we COULD run our generator, putting the fridge and freezer back in the game.

Today we drove to Coen, where once again we are plugged into power and tomorrow we’ll just add more ice for the fridge (the freezer lot will have re-frozen) before we set off for Cooktown.

We met an interesting bloke at Bramwell Junction. He’s a middle-aged Englishman, born in Cooma (we suspect his Dad was working on the Snowy Mtns scheme) but went back to the UK when little. He’s riding around Oz on his motorbike, which carried a tent, sleeping gear, cooking gear etc and he has another 5 months to go.

There were also 11 very fit cyclists, with some support vehicles, who are riding to the tip of the cape, then taking a boat to PNG, and doing the Kokoda Track.

We keep bumping into participants in a Care For Kids rally (there’s 40 4WDs taking part) and today, while having a drink at the Coen Hotel,  named the Exchange Hotel, but changed by the addition of an ‘S’ to the Sexchange Hotel, a group of trail bikers rode in.

They also had support vehicles and apparently, each paid $5000 for the privilege of eating dust from Cairns to the Cape, then flying back to Cairns.

One of the sentinel anthills in the Bramwell Junction
campground.

As John says, with most places in Australia, you visit, then drive on to somewhere else. With Cape York, you drive north to visit it . . . then you have to come south over the same fairly vile roads. One more day of those dirt roads and we’ll be back on the blacktop, all the way home.

We plan to go south to Cairns on the Bloomfield Track, and have already made arrangement for the Isuzu to be serviced next Monday in Cairns, and before that will source a new gel battery so our solar system feels happy again and stops sending out alarms. . . so that’s why it’s turned off.

Tonight we’re eating some of the barramundi we bought in Karumba. John is slicing it into small sections, coating them in rice flour, then cooking them gently in the sandwich toaster. We’ve certainly learnt to be innovative and compromise. All I have to do is make a salad!