The road north from Palm Cove parallels the coast and rivals South Australia’s Great Ocean Road for scenic beauty. It’s a delight to drive; up, down and around bluff headlands, following white sandy beaches, passing rocky bays with surf spraying high into the air, brief cuts through verdant green rainforest. Joy!
We call into the small town of Port Douglas to stock up on supplies, taking time for a quick look at St Marys by the Sea, the delightful tiny church right on the seafront. We’ve been here before and know that behind the altar there are windows that open revealing the sea framed by palm trees. It’s a wonderful view with a touch of mysticism.
North again eventually joining the Peninsula Development Road that will take us up to the tiny settlement of Laura, but there’s time to stop and admire the vista across the Great Dividing Range.
With the amount of rain that we’d experienced, we were unsure about whether the roads are in a condition that will allow us to make it to the Cape so we were somewhat reassured by this sign. Meetings with travellers going south confirm that roads are open and there has been no rain for weeks in northern Queensland. So it’s ‘all systems go’ for the Cape.
We arrive at Laura to be ambushed by a flock of pink and grey galahs. Camped at the back of the Quinkan pub and parched after driving, we were forced into the bar for a beer, only to be served by a very pleasant young lady from Hong Kong who was quite surprised when we thanked her in Cantonese. Things are definitely looking up. No rain, pub food, possibly the largest steak I’ve ever seen on a plate and a comfortable night, even if it did blow half a gale.
Saturday morning and at last we’re shaking off civilisation. Miles of dirt roads are ahead of us and so we reduce the pressure in the tyres before setting out on the dirt. Almost immediately we’re in the Rinyirru National Park, otherwise known as Lakefield. The dirt road is wide, hard, relatively smooth and apart from the corners, fairly free of corrugations so we make good speed, between 60 and 80kmh most of the way. Road kill is in abundance, the result of early morning road trains, and a variety of raptors make a good living on the road, flapping away furiously at our approach.
There’s not much traffic and we have ample opportunity to watch the birds in flight. A few small kangaroos dart across in front of us. We have two devices that are supposed to create a high frequency noise that warns wildlife of our coming. Whether they work or not I don’t really know but we didn’t add to the carnage. So what does the road look like from the driver’s perspective. Try this!
We cross a few bridges, some dried up water courses, two with a drop of water in them, and churn up mile upon mile of red dust. At one point on a nice straight section, just as we’ve pick up a bit of speed, there’s an almost invisible hole in the bull dust. With no choice, we hit it full on. Van Rouge, having a short wheel base, goes down the hole and up the other side leaving a massive dust storm in our wake. Slightly shaken but none the worst for the experience, after a quick check to ensure that we’re still in one piece, we carry on.
The scenery changes as we cross the Nilford Plain. Quite suddenly there’s almost no trees, just tall grass and thousands of huge termite mounds, eight, ten and more feet high. The insect world’s skyscrapers.
We decide to call it a day as it’s getting close to 4pm and we don’t drive in the dark – it’s too dangerous. The small town of Coen is the next place so we camp back of the pub. Thai green curry, a beer or two and daylight fades to crepuscular night in a few minutes, a myriad of pin-prick stars seem to fill the black velvet sky and we stand in awe at the sight. Then someone in a tent lets off a loud fart and spoils the moment.
Sunday and we’re up early, woken by the raucous screeching of a flock of sulphur crested cockatoos, large white birds with a bright yellow crest on their heads. It’s 25 kilometres of smooth tarmac before we hit the dirt and corrugations that shake every part of Vin Rouge and its occupants. No amount of searching for a smooth bit of track is successful and we endure the discomfort and noise for about an hour before stopping at the Archer river crossing for a short break. If you’ve not experienced corrugations, allow me to explain. Imagine driving across corrugated iron sheets for mile upon mile. Think of the shaking about and the noise and you’ll have some idea. There’s no real answer. I experiment with speed and find that somewhere between 70 and 90 kph provides the smoothest ride. I use the word ‘smoothest’ in its loosest possible sense here! Corrugations find any weakness in a vehicle, and in tooth fillings for that matter! Later I find some chaffing on a fuel line and bind it with tape to prevent any further wear.
One problem that we hadn’t anticipated is that the schools are closed for holidays and so hundreds of vehicles are making their way to the ‘top’ and back again. Of course every vehicle we pass creates a cloud of dust so thick that it’s necessary to slow to a crawl to be safe. But too many of them don’t slow down or pass us going flat out kicking dust and stones everywhere. Fortunately we see no accidents but people do die on these roads every year and it’s not hard to see why.
We head for Weipa a town on the western coast of the peninsula. It’s here that bauxite is mined before it’s taken by ship to Gladstone for processing into aluminium. We head for the camp site and manage to claim a spot overlooking the sea. A bit of lunch and a lazy afternoon seem most inviting. We watch as the sun sets over a calm sea. It’s the first time we’ve been on a west coast in Australia and the sight is magnificent.
We’re up before dawn next morning to pack up camp and present ourselves for a tour of Weipa and the Bauxite mine. The town was built for mine workers and remains that way. No ‘fly in, fly out’ here. The mine is enormous, the largest bauxite mine in the world. Acres and acres of land are cleared. Firstly, seed is taken from all the plants and any animals are trapped, classified and relocated. Then the top metre of soil is removed to expose the bauxite layer which is between two and four metres deep. Below that is iron stone. When the site is cleared it’s landscaped using the removed soil following the original undulations and is replanted with the seeds taken previously. The deal is that the land is put back as before, it’s just a couple of metres lower. That’s an interesting concept and according to what we learned, seems to be working well.
The machinery is huge. Massive loaders scrape away the bauxite and transfer it to a processing centre where it is cleaned to remove impurities before being loaded onto trains that carry it to the dock for loading onto ships where it is taken to Gladstone (see earlier blog) for processing into aluminium ingots. We also spot a couple of monstrous crocodiles and are quite happy that they are at a distance.
On the road again and it’s more dirt roads, a short cut along a track optimistically named Batavia Downs Road and we hit the Old Telegraph Track turning off at Bramwell where we camp for the night. There’s not much change in the scenery but we do get the thrill of seeing an eagle close up.
The last day of June and we’re almost on the final leg north. Dusty tracks lead us through dense rain forest. We take a diversion to see the Fruit Bat Falls but the place is full of tourists so we don’t stay very long. However, Kim finds some carnivorous pitcher plants in the undergrowth and gets very excited as she’s not seen them before.
We reach the Jardine Ferry. Is this the most expensive travel in the world? It costs $99 for the ‘voyage’ that takes just over 30 seconds, but does include a free return!
More dirt track and we stop at Bamaga for the night, camping right in the beach. Tomorrow we’ll make the final few kilometres to Cape York and will have achieved a goal we set ourselves two years ago. But for now it’s another glorious sunset, a long chat with a fellow who come over to tell us that he used to run a Land Rover agency in Mildura, Victoria and still owns a Disco. Earlier we’d spoken with a park ranger who told us that he owns a series II and is restoring a Series I. With a Land Rover so many doors open and so many interesting and friendly people come and chat.
Up sharp, well fairly! Breakfast, pack up camp after a brief shower of rain that dampens everything just sufficiently to make it difficult to pack, and we’re making the last few kilometres to the top. The track is rough but not rough enough to warrant using low range or to engage the difflock (Land Rover owners will know what I mean). A final corkscrew to avoid some potholes and we’ve finally made it. We’re at ‘The Tip’, Cape York. That’s 10 degrees 41 minutes and 14 seconds South, and 142 degrees 31 minutes and 53 seconds East if you’re interested in such things.
We’re 2170 kilometres from Brisbane although we’ve travelled almost 3,500 kilometres to get here. That’s further than the distance from London to Moscow, and we’re still in the same State (Queensland). Australia is a definitely a big country.
Mmm. Now we’ve got to go back again. But for now that’s a tick on the bucket list.
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