The Cape York Peninsula

Travelling north for a week now. Nothing too arduous, after all this is meant to be enjoyed, it’s not an endurance test. But things are beginning to change.

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.

Going North

There can’t be too many places so far removed from Scotland as Townsville but that doesn’t stop the local population having its very own Tartan Day.  We were fortunate enough to be in town in time to see the parade through the main street.  Twenty one pipers, a swirl of kilts (is that the right collective term?) drums and lots of colourful tartan banners.  Even three Scottie dogs.  Scottish dancing and no doubt a dram or several.  No caber tossing though.

Next stop was WOW (World Of WearableArt) an exhibition from New Zealand.  Definitely whacky, frequently amusing, sometimes challenging, here are a couple of our favourites creations, although we’re not too sure about the everyday wear ability.

On to the museum to see a special exhibition about HMS Pandora, the warship sent out from Britain to find and arrest the mutineers from HMS Bounty.  Some fourteen were found and manacled in a small prison constructed on deck.  The Pandora foundered on a reef on 29 August 1791 losing 31 crew and four of the prisoners.  Kim was drafted as part of a gun crew to prepare, run out and fire a six pounder cannon but is not planning on furthering her naval career.

A really special day was completed by a once in a 250 year event when the moon, Venus and Jupiter more or less lined up.  We’re not waiting for the next one – here’s how it looked.

Monday, has a whole week really gone by?  We’re getting settled in now to setting up and packing away reasonably efficiently, taking less than ten minutes which includes getting the kettle boiled for a cuppa.  Essential this morning as we’ve yet more drizzle.  Following the coastal road and then heading north again on the Bruce Highway.  Nothing too strenuous today so we complete a couple of hundred kilometres and stop at Cardwell, a small seaside town, for the night.

And so on.  Nothing special but after just one day of sunshine it’s back to rain.  Camp in the rain, pack up the saturated tent in the rain, drive northwards in the rain and arrive at Palm Cove where it stops raining – hurrah!  Up with the tent to dry it out.  Kim makes use of the camp’s laundry while I dry, tidy and repack the back of the Land Rover.  The big question now is do we continue north or abandon the Cape to turn west on to the Savannah Way?  We don’t see this trip as an endurance test and don’t want to wreck the Land Rover driving on washed out tracks, corrugations and churned up ruts, nor risk it on flooded river crossings.  We’ll make enquiries and make a decision tomorrow.  In the meantime, as dusk approaches it’s time for a glass of wine whilst enjoying the dry.  That big black cloud looks threatening but we may get away with it.

Morning and there’s something odd going on.  The sky is azure blue and there’s a large yellow orb emitting warmth and light!  Breakfast, a stroll and a decision.  We’ll say here one more day and then travel north to Laura where we should be able to find out the condition of the tracks leading to Cape York.

The beach looks inviting.  The signs don’t.

Not everything in the north Queensland Pacific is out to kill you – just most of it!  It may look like a tropical paradise but in the sea there’s stingers (box jellyfish), Irukandji jellyfish (about a centimetre across but quite deadly) and of course salt water crocodiles and sharks.  We have a coffee and watch the sea from a distance.  The surf lifesavers erect a stinger net to make a screened off area in the water that is safe(ish) for swimming and maintain a watch on people swimming between the yellow and red flags.  It’s an excellent voluntary service that occurs all over Australia and is maintained by voluntary contributions.

Time to end this little blog.  Lunchtime and I may just have a beer to wash down the sandwich then enjoy the peace and sunshine.  There are times when . . . . .

Platypus and sugar cane

Day three and before the sun is up we're woken by the raucous cacophony of

thousands of magpie geese returning from overnight roosting to the St
Lawrence Wetlands where they feed all day on the rich vegetation. The sun
rises to present us with a glorious morning so we take a walk through the
wetlands to see the abundant birdlife. Magpie geese, the islands are black
(and white) with them, black swans, ducks, coots and moorhens of every
variety together with the ever present cranes and egrets. Set against a
background of reeds and water lilies it's a magnificent sight.

But the road beckons, the sun has dried the morning dew on the tent and it's
time to strike camp, have a shower and hit the Bruce Highway again. There's
not much to see apart from fields of sugar cane but some of the road signs
ask trivia questions. What is the national flower of Queensland? Answer,
the Cooktown Orchid. I play my own trivia mind games; if there's a Bruce
Highway, how come there's not a Sheila Highway? Why do all the continents
start and finish with the same letter? I did say that the Bruce is tedious!

At last, the navigator directs a turn off on to a lesser road that takes us
through pastoral countryside to the tiny settlement of Marian which boasts a
sugar cane processing plant and the house where Helen Porter Mitchell became
bored with small town family life and escaped to London and Paris where she
became Dame Nellie Melba, the original diva,. Vaun the volunteer guide (the
place doubles as the local tourist office, museum and craft market) waxed
lyrical about Dame Nellie's early life and how she rose to stardom in the
last quarter of the nineteenth century. All very educational and most
enjoyable.

Our journey through the cane fields came to an abrupt end as the road
climbed steeply into the mountains of the Great Dividing Range to Eungella.
After many twists and turns we arrived at a spot known as Broken River.
'Why' do I hear you ask? Well, Kim and I have seen the elusive platypus,
but only in captivity. Kim has wanted to see one 'in the wild' but
everywhere we've searched has drawn a blank. And this part of Broken River,
according to local lore, is the place to see them. The first half an hour
revealed quite a few long necked turtles and a colourful kingfisher but no
platypus.

"Oh dear, not again. And I really wanted to see one" complained Kim. Then
suddenly, right in the middle of the river, up pops the gleaming shape of
the creature that looks as though it was made of the spare bits left over
after all the other animals were made. A genuine wild platypus. By the
way, the head is towards to bottom right of the picture.

Wow, that was some thrill. And then we spotted another, and then another
quite near to where we had set up camp, but by this time it was getting dark
and clouds were rolling in ready for a drop more rain.

Generally when camping we set up just the roof top tent and that's
sufficient, but as the cloud became lower and drizzle set in we decided to
add the walls. This makes a cosy two storey tent that rapidly warms when
the cooker is on. I've made some modifications, adding LED lighting and a
convenient hook to hold the ladder out of the way in the roof. This
provides a clear space about 6 feet by 8 feet which is quite sufficient for
the table and a couple of chairs. So ended the day. Will tomorrow bring
sunshine? We'll have to wait and see.

No, it doesn't. The morning mist clears but the weak sun is quickly
displaced by drizzle. However, the lush tropical rainforest is something to
be experienced and so we stayed in the mountains, although dropping down a
few hundred metres to Finch Hatton Gorge where we forded four rivers in
quick succession, only one of them deep enough to be interesting. But we'd
had enough of wet and decided it was prudent to head for the coast before we
picked up any leeches.

Back among mile after mile of sugar cane we arrived at Bowen, noted for its
mangoes. They even have a giant one that was stolen a few months ago.
Happily it's now back in its proper location.

As we've seen so much sugar cane I should perhaps include a note about this
crop for readers who are not familiar with it. From a distance the plant
looks similar to bamboo. Growing up to eight feet high its stems are about
three quarters of an inch in diameter with a cluster of wide green leaves.
Some have a feathery seed head, similar to tall grass. Field after field of
the crop present a picture of uniform green that is quite attractive, at
least initially. The crop is harvested using special machines that cut the
stems at ground level, strip off the leaves, cut the stems into lengths
which are dropped into cages on wheels. The cages are carried on the backs
of trucks and deposited onto railways lines. When enough filled cages are
coupled together, they're picked up by an engine and taken by rail to a
processing plant. There must be hundreds of kilometres of these narrow
gauge cane railway tracks. They cross roads, pass through villages,
progress in front of houses and eventually arrive at one of the many sugar
mills. Queensland produces about 4.5 million tonnes of sugar annually.
That's a lot of spoonfuls, something to think about when you have your next
cup of tea.

Overnight at Bowen, just off the beach with the sound of the waves lulling
us to sleep. Morning, all too soon and we're awoken by a whole family of
kookaburras noisily arguing. Then a gentle drive on the dreaded Bruce
Highway to Townsville where we catch up with Matt and Natalie who were once
our neighbours in Brisbane.

The scenery is beginning to look drier. Are we at last getting away from
rain?

True to form

True to form, as soon as the roof top tent was in place it started to rain.  Now we haven’t had rain in Brisbane for weeks and weeks.  Is it something we said?  So, having delayed our trip for a few days to allow the worst of weather to pass through, and also found time for a small celebration to note my seventy second year on this earth , we decided to set out on Monday morning, leaving at 10am sharp. 

True to form we were away at 11.  With everything loaded including the kitchen sink (well plastic washing up bowl) and with a second spare wheel, it took an hour to settle in handling what is a very heavy Defender 90.  The spare wheel cover on the bonnet rapidly became a menace.  Not only did it act as a very effective air brake, as the material expanded it slowly reduced forward visibility.  I’d liken it to driving behind  the back end of an elephant.  Our first tea stop sorted out the visibility issue but I noticed water leaking into the front wheel arch.  This was traced to the header tank but as it was only a small leak decided to carry on regardless.  Somehow, despite all the checks and servicing Vin Rouge usually manages to spring a surprise or two.

 Travelling north on the Bruce Highway is not the most enjoyable motoring.  Mostly it’s a combination of heavy trucks – in Australia these usually have at least two trailers – and caravans.  We trundled along about 80-90kmh easing over to let the faster vehicles overtake us, whilst we passed the caravans on the inclines.  Add indifferent visibility, drizzle and a dull flat light with no sun and it simply became tedious.  Still we managed to put close on 400 ks under our belt before an overnight stop at the small town with the odd name of Gin Gin.  By the way, did you know that June 13^th (my birthday) is also World Gin Day?  Recommendation for anyone planning to overnight at the Gin Gin site is get as far away as possible from the road.  Trucks rumble past more or less continuously, so what with getting used to camping again and the racket from the road, it was not the most peaceful of nights.

Next morning we’re up bright and early to enjoy the delights of Gladstone.  The aluminium smelter might be the largest in the world but, apart from fork lift trucks moving ingots, its sterile appearance of massive sheds resembles a chicken farm on an epic scale.  Coal depots, a cyanide plant and other heavy industry completes the scene so we pushed on towards Rockhampton.   A brief stop at the Tropic of Capricorn where we officially transferred from a sub tropical to a tropical climate and on again.  We can reliably report that there’s no difference between sub-tropical and tropical rain.  It’s just as wet and falls just as hard.  The satnav easily found Graeme Filer, the Land Rover engineer who not only arranged for a new radiator header tank to be flown up from Sydney overnight, but his good lady Lyndal provided us with lots of tips about our planned route to the Cape.  There’s something special about Land Rover people.  They’re always friendly and always helpful.  They even recommended a good camp site at Yeppoon, where we intended to stay overnight.  So now I’m sitting here, a few yards from the gently rolling surf driving up the beach.  The sun, yes actual sun, is leaving the day and we’re somewhat more organised than we were 24 hours ago.  To celebrate we’re eating out – fish and chips.

Following a morning constitutional along the pristine beach where small clams and minute crabs were making patterns in the sand and it’s back to Rockhampton for the new part to be fitted then north again on the tedious Bruce Highway and yet more rain.  We considered staying in Rocky and dropping into see the rodeo boys practicing bull riding or visiting the Capricorn Caves but finally decided that we would prefer to get as far north as we could and hopefully drive through the rain belt.  And it worked!  Overnight at the St Lawrence free camp site where we found a high, dry spot away from the parts that had been flooded earlier in the day and parked next to a couple who own a Series II Land Rover.  Thai Green curry for dinner and watching thousands of magpie geese flock before roosting for the night and things are looking much more cheerful.

That’ll do for the first blog.  True to form we started out in the rain and true to form Vin Rouge developed a problem.  Wonder what the next days or weeks will bring?

Our next trip, almost there

June 1, the first day of winter in Australia.  That means two things; the temperature will be cooler - even cold at times - and it will be drier.  Roads and tracks in the north of the country will be open and it will be possible to travel reasonably safely.  In other words it’s time to hit the road. 

For various reasons we didn’t get anywhere last year but did have two visits to the USA to see our granddaughter and her Mum and Dad.  There is also another ‘grand-sprog’ on the way!  We also experienced two amazing three day train journeys, firstly from Sacramento to Chicago, crossing the Rocky Mountains in the early spring, and then from Chicago to Los Angeles in the Fall, so it wasn’t all bad. 

This year we’re determined to go before Mike gets too old and as Kim puts it “he’ll need a Stanna stairlift to get into the rooftop tent”.  Not that the intervening period has been entirely idle on the Land Rover front.  We’ve managed a few day trips and organised Christmas driving trials for the Brisbane Land Rover Club.  And work on Vin Rouge has continued.  After our last outback trip there were two things that became a bit of a bugbear.  Filling the water tank was an awkward and messy affair that involved unloading some of the gear in the back and pointing a hose at the little filler hole.  This time we installed some additional pipes so that the filler and breather can be taken out of the vehicle through the driver’s window.  Now it’s a matter of connecting the hose to one pipe, turning on the water and waiting until it squirts out of the other pipe.  We’ll find out if the practice is as good as the theory.  Mike has also modified the drawer system.  Two drawers now grace the back of the vehicle.  With the galley stove in place one drawer will fully open and includes a chopping block, the other partly opens to provide access to domestic stuff and doubles as an additional work surface.  By some very careful measuring, better use has been made of the available space and now the heavy things such as spares, tools and recovery gear are lower down, a double bonus as a little more space is available for lighter weight things above.  Cutlery, crockery and cooking utensils all stow in the drawers as well.  It’s almost a case of the sum of the component parts slightly exceeding the whole.

Modifications have also been made to the roof top tent.  The ladder can now be folded away to make more space when the tent walls are in place and the walls have been re-cut to better fit the sides of the Land Rover.

The last couple of weeks have been busy with preparations.  All the camping gear has been checked, serviced, cleaned and stacked ready for packing.  Vin Rouge has had the front axle overhauled, a persistent oil leak in the back axle fixed (well, we hope so) and the timing belt replaced (just in case).  A service and polish and we should be set to go.

The plan this time is to go north to Cape York.  It’s a 1,700 kilometre road trip from Brisbane to Cairns.  The direct route uses the Bruce highway which is as dangerous as it is tedious so we’ll deviate on to minor roads where we can.  It will increase the journey time but make the trip more interesting.  From Cairns it’s around 1,000 kilometres to the top, most of which will be slow going over rough track.  There’s also quite a lot of rivers to ford so we’ve made what is known locally as a ‘bonnet bra’ to keep the muck out of the engine bay.  It should be interesting with lots of wildlife, including the huge salt water crocs which we’ll do our best to avoid.  After that, if all is going well we’ll go west into the setting sun taking the Savannah Way to Broome, another 4,000 kilometres not including side excursions.  That ought to take care of a couple of months.

As we did on our last trip we’ll be writing a blog of our adventures and posting photos.  Entries may be a bit irregular as for much of the time we will be well out of mobile phone telecommunications, so please be patient with us.  

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So for now it’s putting the final touches to the preparation.  Hopefully we will be leaving towards the end of next week.

We've had some questions about where we travelled in Australia (it's a big country).  Our 18,000 kilometres took us around a little less than half the continent.

This is where we went, starting in Brisbane (half way up on the right) and progressing clockwise.

If you're really desperate for more detail, youngest son Alexander has put our route on Google Earth.  Click here to download the map file then open it in Google Earth to see just about every road we travelled!

Finale

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?