Leaving Charters Towers the next morning we filled up with diesel and headed south. When the tank was half full we stopped for a bite to eat then continued until the fuel level dropped into the red sector. Pumping additional fuel from the second tank soon topped us up and we continued south until we came to the town of Emerald. The road was long, rather tedious, bordering on boring. By the time we pulled up to camp in the free area at the Botanic Gardens, we’d clocked up almost 470 kilometres.
After such a day there was only one remedy, a large Guinness or two, so after dinner we walked to the Irish village pub, only to be informed that we were not allowed in without covered footwear – and we were wearing sandals. However, with true Irish hospitality the courtesy bus was made available to take us back to camp where we changed and presented ourselves for inspection, passed muster and were rewarded with our drinks.
The camp site was sandwiched between the main highway and the railway line, a location which we thought might be somewhat noisy, but whether it was the Guinness or the lack of trains I slept soundly and woke to a cacophony of sound from a gang of sulphur crested cockatoos. Kim claimed to have had a restless night but I can’t comment on that as I was quite oblivious.
Next morning we checked out the ‘historic’ Emerald Station. It’s worth noting that anything in Australia that is more than about fifty years old is deemed to be ‘historic’ and has some form of heritage listing. Look in any museum and there are usually whole sections of kitchen implements and furniture that look much like those we had when I was young. Better keep quiet before someone decides that I should be ‘heritage listed’.
We found out why last night was fairly peaceful. Only four trains a week stop at Emerald Station. I looked hard but couldn’t see any of them.
A great many sunflowers are grown around Emerald and so the great and the good of the town decided that this should be commemorated in some way. The result is what is claimed to be the world’s largest copy of Vincent van Gogh’s famous painting.
It was time to move and so we headed south once again. Kim the navigator seemed to be keen on getting some distance under out collective belts and we ended up doing another 460 kilometres on long tedious roads.
There’s not a lot of towns of any size on this part of Queensland and so we turned off to Tannum Sands, which boasts a population of just over 4,000. The only camp site is close to the beach and surrounded by trees, but the weather was chilly and threatened rain so we turned in after an early dinner.
Shock, horror. Next morning, none of the showers would produce hot water, so we made an early, if slightly grubby start and drove to the pretty little town of Agnes Water and the oddly named ‘Town of 1770’, named after Captain Cook who landed there in May of that year. Joseph Banks came ashore with the good captain and within a few hours had discovered more than thirty new plant species. Now that would have been an exciting day for him. We had to content ourselves with a visitor, a Kookaburra.
It was now a little after 2pm on Monday 3 June and we were faced with a minor dilemma, should we find a place to stop over on the way back to Brisbane or should we simply crack on and do the whole distance. Vin Rouge appeared to favour the latter option. Normally we cruise along somewhere between 80 and 90 kph according to how the vehicle is feeling. Today Vin Rouge decided it was a 100 kph plus day and we were soon racing along. Stopping only for a brief meal in the late afternoon, we covered the 600 kilometres by 7.30. Much effort had been spent in cleaning up the house and garden in the few hours before our arrival. Not all of this was the efforts of Sarah and Alexander, they’d roped in their grandparents to help.
So now it’s all over. We’ve been away four months and had an amazing adventure. We’ve seen some of this island continent of Australia, experienced some extraordinary sights; the magnificence of Uluru, Porcupine Gorge and the waterfalls, we’ve climbed Mount Kosciuszko, the highest point in Australia, we saw the little penguins come ashore at Phillip Island and we’ve seen how the flying doctor and the school of the air work under extraordinarily unique conditions. We’ve seen how people cope with life in the outback and how others rely on tourism now that gold mining is no more.
We’ve met some interesting and delightful people; Wally and Carolyn who became firm friends, Les Pilton at the Barrow Hotel who entertained us (and others) throughout the entire evening, David Christie who proudly showed us his extraordinary collection of model cars and Land Rovers, plus some of his real cars and half size models too. We caught up with long standing friends; Dick and Pat who have been sailing around the world for the last fourteen years, Peter and Carol Gardner with whom we celebrated a birthday, and Peter and Katherine who were our neighbours in Hong Kong so many years ago. Is there anyone I’ve missed? Probably, but they know who they are and we thank them sincerely for sharing and contributing to our adventure.
We met just a very few of the other kind of people but we’ll pass over them, as indeed they should be passed over.
In finishing I guess it’s appropriate to conclude with a few facts and figures. We travelled a little over 18,000 kilometres (11,250 miles), consumed almost 1,900 litres of diesel at and average of 10.5 litres per 100 kilometres, or 27 miles per gallon in real money. Oh yes, Kim took 8,000 photos!
We had a few problems along the way. Bearings in the alternator, water pump and fan belt idler failed. Metal fatigue caused problems with the fuel return pipe and the power assisted braking. Fortunately we had fantastic service from dedicated Land Rover service people (not the official dealers I hasten to add) and we were never held up for more than a few hours.
We’ve had a wonderful time. If we’ve managed to convey some of that wonder in these pages then the blog will have succeeded. Thanks for reading and goodbye – until the next trip.
Kim and Mike
and Vin Rouge
Now what did I do with the planner?
Jose Paronella emigrated to Australia, arriving at Innisfail in northern Queensland in 1913. He worked hard, initially cutting cane then buying, improving and selling cane farms. He made a considerable fortune. I won’t go into the history, which although fascinating would be too long a read in this blog, but suffice it to say that Jose’s dream was to build a castle. This he did. He also planted over 7,000 trees, constructed staircases, paths and fountains, and incorporated waterfalls to make thirteen acres of parkland which he opened to the public in 1935. Ever inventive, his constructions were made of concrete, using old cane railway track as reinforcement. Jose died unexpectedly in 1948 and his family carried on with the park until the 1970s when a series of misfortunes reduced it to a partial ruin. It quietly decayed until 1993 when it was taken over by new owners who started on an ambitious plan to reconstruct the whole estate, a task that continues and will continue for many years to come.
We stayed overnight at Paronella Park, joining the evening tour to see the buildings and waterfalls under floodlighting . . . .
. . . . and very dramatic it was too.
Next day we joined the morning tour and saw the grounds in daylight. The decay was obvious but the place exuded a certain charm. It was a great experience.
The weather hadn’t been too kind to us (again). Overnight we experienced torrential rain and high winds. Our Hannibal tent shook a bit but we stayed warm and dry inside. However, packing up a soaking wet tent in the rain is not the most fun you can have.
Next stop was Innisfail, a small town that was virtually wiped out by a cyclone in the 1920s. Rebuilding was rapid and the town is now known for its art deco style buildings.
And a bridge.
A quick visit to the Sugar Museum which we decided was very poor (expensive, tatty and not particularly informative) and we continued through occasional showers to Mission Beach. This place is one of the known beauty spots, long sandy beach, coconut palms and a deep blue ocean. Unfortunately we could see little of this through the curtain of rain.
The wet tent was put back up and the walls too were necessary to keep us snug and dry whilst Kim cooked up the evening meal. We experienced another noisy night with the rain beating tattoos on the canvas but next morning dawned a little brighter even though by now everything was soaking.
By mid morning the sun had made an appearance, the beach looked more cheerful and we could even see Dunk Island in the distance.
A couple of hours motoring brought us to Tully which has a Golden Gumboot prominently displayed in the centre of town. Do I hear you asking why?
Tully is a wet town. It has a lot of rain. The gumboot is 7.93 metres high, the amount of rain that fell on Tully in 1950, a record that stands to this day.
Then we had an outbreak of odd bikes. The first was a solar powered thing that had already clocked up 5,000 kilometres. The young fellow who built it is hoping to circumnavigate Australia in it. After a brief chat, we wished him loads of luck. We have the feeling that he might need it.
Next we saw this one which really defies description.
Townsville, our next brief stop, was fine for coffee and a walk round but we didn’t stay long. We liked the parkland by the shore but found little else to keep us there. So we pushed on. Charters Towers grew rapidly in the mid 1800s when gold was found in the area. It grew fast and it grew rich. At one time it even had its own stock exchange.
The gold is now long gone but it remains a thriving place with lots of character. Better, the sun came out even though it was between brief showers. We did dry the tent and got everything straight again. In this dry and tidy state, it’s probably a good place to stop, pour a glass of wine and get ready to enjoy a relaxed evening.
Not too many days to go now before our adventure will be over so we have to make the most of it.
First thing in the morning and it’s time for me to do the washing up after breakfast whilst Kim wanders off to take some photographs. Unless it’s raining or cold we don’t usually put up the tent walls. It’s quicker to simply open up the main tent and maybe the awning. It’s quicker to pack up too.
Our first stop of the morning is to Cooktown’s botanical gardens which are ambitiously subtitled ‘Natures Powerhouse’. At first glance they seem typical of the tropical landscape we’ve seen before. But on closer inspection we found that they have been laid out so that visitors can get a better understanding of how plants interact and rely upon others to thrive. We also found some different specimens to admire. Here’s a few to enjoy.
Now there’s a plant called the Cooktown Orchid, which is rather pretty. None being in flower, we can’t show you what it looks like. Instead, here’s an ants nest. Skilfully crafted by curling and sticking together leaves, these green ants, each about half an inch long, became quite aggressive when the stick was pushed into their ‘territory’. Apparently the Aborigines use these ants to make a lime tasting drink but we didn’t try it.
As we headed into the hills to find the Bloomfield Track it started to rain and the clouds lowered until visibility started to drop. Now where have we experienced this weather before? The dirt track was slick with wet clay and very slippery, so we stopped and lowered the tyre pressures which improved road holding considerably. Then it got a bit wetter.
The crossing was not too challenging being only about two feet deep but altogether we crossed about eight small rivers, mostly flowing quite fast. Fast flowing is good – no crocodiles! The track was generally quite good, mainly wet clay mixed with some strategically placed potholes and occasional corrugations.
Then quite suddenly the road climbed out of the rain forest and up into the hills. The day grew lighter as we rose above the tree canopy and then there was the sea.
After the briefest of ocean views across what is known as Cape Tribulation, it was a long descent until the road gave out and we took the ferry across the Daintree River.
On the other side we stopped so that Kim could buy some vanilla beans, a process that lasted nearly an hour, mostly to do with the education that went with the purchase. Apparently vanilla beans are green until picked. It takes quite a while for them to ‘ripen’ and go black. Here’s today’s interesting fact about vanilla beans grown anywhere outside their native Mexico. They have to be hand pollinated as the natural pollinator (the Melipona bee) exists only in that country.
Spot the beans – clue, they’re on the right of the plant.
Apart from signs warning to be aware of cassowaries (we didn’t see any) there was little of interest to see until we arrived at Port Douglas. Lunch was freshly caught and cooked prawns and a bottle of pino gris which we enjoyed whilst taking in the view.
That evening we played tourist and took a fake paddle steamer boat ride up the river. The trip turned out to be great. The lady skipper knew exactly where the wildlife would be found and provided an amusing and informative commentary as we progressed gently upstream passing the mangroves and behind them a variety of large native trees. It wasn’t long before we saw whistling kites and then a large male salt water crocodile was spotted. The beast was, so we were told, was 3.8 metres long and came with the warning that it was not a good idea to lean over the side of the boat to take photos. We needed no encouragement to comply and Kim took these shots from a position of relative safety, which was quite close enough.
Then along came a female saltie, a little smaller but just as scary.
The next thrill was a sea eagle that snatched a large piece of fish from the water with its talon and flew with it to a nearby tree. For me that was a very dramatic and special sight.
The sun set in a blaze of colour as we docked and made our way back to camp after a memorable evening.
Sunday morning in Port Douglas is market day and of course Kim wanted to check it out. We didn’t buy much but did end up with a wonderful concoction of coconut, ripe banana and honey. Kim drank the coconut juice and we shared the rest. Yum.
Now northern Queensland is the land of constant sunshine – except that it isn’t! There are two seasons here, the wet and the dry. However, we have been told that this is tropical rainforest country and that really means the wet and the not quite so wet. Evidently the seasons are a bit screwed up at present as it’s very wet and cold, which is almost unheard of this far north, especially when it should be ‘dry’.
Anyway it was back to the Captain Cook Highway heading south towards Cairns. We had some nice views of the sea, but it didn’t look too inviting as it was grey and rough. Signs warning against stingers, sharks and crocodiles were also a bit of a deterrent, so we followed the highway, camped overnight at Palm Cove where it poured with rain, and then on to Cairns where it also poured with rain.
Cairns is orientated towards young people seeking thrills and as we were not too inclined to take up bungee jumping, white water rafting, jumping off cliffs on a hang glider and other such forms of ‘entertainment’, we headed out of town to Kuranda to visit the Butterfly Sanctuary. No comments please about old age taking its toll – I know that already!
Kim took hundreds of photographs of butterflies. I deleted most of them as the insects managed to be just out of camera shot or out of focus. Moral, it’s not easy taking photos of butterflies. However, some turned out OK. Here’s a selection.
Not bad eh?
Returning to Cairns, we passed the Barron Falls, not much water even though we’ve had all this rain.
And there I’ll leave it. In the next blog we have something very special which concerns a most unusual Spanish gentleman.
