Fraser Island – Part 1

We arrived at the hostel at 6:20am not only feeling tired but also a little apprehensive of what laid ahead, with good reason as it turned out.  The rest of the group started to appear from their beds shortly after our arrival, some looking like they had a hard night and only just got in.

Our briefing was a video by the Queensland government explaining how to drive on sand, some basic driving rules on the island and pictures of previous accidents that had plagued the island in recent years.  As we were to find out driving on sand is not easy and if done incorrectly and at speed its very easy to turn over the car, with many of the accidents that have killed people involving rolling the vehicle on the main beach.  To hammer the point home the video even showed a Policeman with a speed gun standing on the beach, warning of heavy fines if caught.  After the video and an extremely short briefing by Worm (which involved more senseless mocking of the Irish including a pitiful attempt at the accent) we packed the vehicles with the bags of food, cool box, our clothes bags and of course, enough alcohol to sink a small ship, and then we were off.

Our tool of choice for this adventure would be a modified 10 year old Toyota Landcruiser that had been fitted with a hightop.  I couldn't work out whether this was due to it being a 4x4 campervan in a previous life or whether it was a safety feature to stop you banging your head as you fly over the very big bumps on the island.  I was nominated to drive first and so off we headed to the port.

The transfer to the island was by barge and involved reversing the Landcruiser down a steep narrow ramp onto the boat.  Worm came to the window “Right Uncle Bill, do you understand left hand down, right hand down?” and then warned us that the loader on the barge was an idiot and would shout at those that could follow these simple instructions.  Mushroom (?) as he was called seemed fine and we all loaded without incident, although my new nickname would lose its appeal quickly!

After a 40 minute barge journey we arrived on the island, put the car into 4 wheel drive and sped off at 60km along the narrow tracks they call roads.  With so many vehicles ploughing across the island the tracks are deeply rutted meaning that most of the time it was more like driving a train as the wheels followed the previous vehicles tracks.  However every so often the back end of the car would step out towards the large trees that line the tracks abruptly reminding you of the constant attention required and not to be lulled into a false sense of security.

We soon arrived at our first stop, Central Station, no not a train station but a wood cabin that was used by loggers when logging was still allowed on the island.  Worm led us on a tour of the site, telling us how boring this bit was, pointing out water, trees and ridiculing the other tour parties who seemed to be getting a bit of the history of the place and how the island came about.  When we got back to the cars we changed drivers and headed for Eurong a small conurbation with a shop, bakery, hostel and the islands only petrol station to pick up the camp trailer.  With such an early start and some still nursing fairly substantial hangovers everyone darted for the bakery and filled up on meat pies, donuts and coffee.  It was devoured by most like it was the last meal they were going to have for a while.  Once the trailer was sorted we made our way up the main highway of the island, a 74 mile beach to find a campsite and drop the trailer.  74 mile beach (creative with their naming aren’t they!) runs the entire length of the island and is the only way to get from top to bottom.  The beach operates as a two lane highway with speed limits up to 80 km per hour and also is an airstrip for light aircraft.  Along with the usual beach type traffic of bathers and fishermen and the odd ship wreck, the constant stream of traffic and landing aircraft makes it an interesting drive.

Worm found us a suitable camp spot just behind a sand dune and so dropped the trailer and continued us on our way to the first must see of the island, Lake Wabby.  We parked on the beach next to the path, then Worm pointed in the general direction and barked “Stay on the path and be back by 16:00”.  He was just so informative, that’s what we really loved about him!  With towel in hand we all made our way several kilometres inland, finally reaching a range of large sand dunes.  At the end of these was a fresh water lagoon which was slightly green due to dead vegetation from the surrounding trees, but still provided an alluring swimming opportunity.

As the group was still getting to know each other we all picked spots some way apart and started to prepare to go swimming.  The first in was a tall Italian gentlemen.  His entrance to the water was soon watched by everyone there as their attention had been caught by the loud call of one the Irish lads of “Spee Do!”  It was very funny, but not understood by the other Italians as apparently speedos are completely fashionable swimming attire over there!

After a relaxing time swimming and just lazing in the sun, we returned to the 4x4 and drove back to the campsite for the night.  Worm started to unpack the trailer while everyone stood around wondering what to do.  After 20 minutes of waiting for something to do I went over and asked what we could do to help.  He looked at me as if I had just asked him to create a new dance move then realising I was serious he started to allocate jobs out to people.  First the tents needed putting up, so he showed a few of us how to do it and then we went round and set up the rest.  Next the dinning area was set up and then the kitchen itself.

As soon as the BBQ and cooking area was ready the Italians took possession only missing tanks to secure their cordon and refused to let anyone else near the area until they had cooked a sumptuous meal (compared to the rest of us).  This meant we had nothing else to do but sit around and slowly get drunk.  Yes, terrible isn’t it!  Eventually a space was cleared and the Irish lads claimed squatter rights and cooked their 3 bits of steak for 3 minutes and left to devour their still raw meal washing it down with 24 cans of beer and the bottle of Jack Daniels.  They said they were pacing themselves as the 24 litres of wine was kept for the last night!

Eventually everyone got a chance to use the cooking facilities sharing the space as it become available.  Then came the great tent debate.  When we had booked the trip they had kindly told us we could share a tent to ourselves as we where the only couple on the trip, however when we came to allocate the tents there was only just enough for the group with us having to share with one other person from the Italian group, as they quite rightly gave a tent to the Irish Mum and Dad.  We were more than happy to share, but we had obviously been too overly affectionate with each other in public because it seemed to put off anyone else wanting to share a tent with us!  After much whispering amongst the Italians, maybe having to draw straws as to who was going to be with us, the five of them decided in the end to shared a tent built for 4 whilst we had one to ourselves.

Not long after dinner was out of the way, Worm disappeared to bed and the group started to chat and get to know each other better, however interestingly the main topic of conversation seemed to be Worm.  It transpired that no one liked him very much and everyone was annoyed that he didn’t make any effort to tell us what was going on or what the plans were.  The Irish lads who were constantly the brunt of his attempts at humour were talking about putting food in his tent to attract the Dingos who roamed the island and there were some unrepeatable comments made about how he might of lost his leg and how he might lose the other one soon.  You could say they were not fans!

Emma and I departed to our bed relatively early as we had run out of red wine but for the rest, the party was just getting started and it looked like it was going to get messy.

Stay tuned for the next exciting episode!

Airlie Beach to Hervey Bay

The next two days taking us from Airlie Beach to Hervey Bay would, in the main, be nothing more than long driving days with us needing to cover almost 1000 kms and not much to see on the way.  We looked in our cheap campsite book for a suitable site half way along the journey and selected one in a small town called Marlborough.  The campsite was attached to a hotel and along with a lot of the Queens English the Australians have taken the word hotel and changed it to mean something else.  Hotel in Australia can actually be a hotel and have rooms to rent but most are actually pubs.  Some are also liquor stores and some of the ones in the sleepier towns are all three, but in the main a pub.  Marlborough had about 30 houses and a small shop although this appeared not to be used in favour of the hotel which to the Australians is all a human needs.  The campsite turned out to be the pub carpark with the showers and toilets part of the normal toilet facilities for the pub, sorry I mean hotel!

Ever since we landed in Queensland its felt like we are in a different country compared to the west coast.  Desert has been replaced with rainforest, empty wide open roads replaced with traffic ridden highways.  Even the cost of things over this side is substantially cheaper with food and drink being some times half what we paid on the west.  The biggest change is the population density, it seems that most of the people live here all crammed into a strip a few kilometres from the coast giving everyone a sea view.  The other very noticeable difference is that for the past 3 weeks since we landed in Cairns we have seen no Aboriginal people.  If the communities are here they are well hidden.

We finally arrived in Hervey Bay just before dusk and pulled right into the centre of town to find a council run campsite that was right next to the beach that was recommended by Lonely Planet.

Once we had settled in we prepared for the next day as we would be once again trawling the booking agents but this time looking for a suitable Frazer Island trip.  You basically have three options to chose from, self drive in a 4x4 and camping in a tent, a guided tour in a big 4x4 bus staying in hostels or permanent tents, or a 4x4 tag along tour.  The tag along tour is where you share a 4x4 that seats 8 people and you take it in turns driving whilst following the lead 4x4 which is driven by a guide who does all the hard work working out the tides and where to go.  Accommodation is in a tent.  Due to a number of high profile accidents and deaths on the Island in recent years it appeared that many of the companies had pulled out of the market seemingly only leaving the ones run by the backpacker hostels.  After some deliberation, we decided to go with a tag along tour with Palace Hostel as they had a trailer with all the cooking gear on it and had places available for when we wanted to go.

Frazer Island was our second must do on the Queensland coast and high up there for our trip overall.  Frazer is a 130 km long, 40 km wide island entirely made of sand making it the largest in the world.  The island is covered in old trees and vegetation that rightly should not grow without soil, again making it unique.  It also contains a number of fresh water lakes which again is unusual if you consider the surroundings.  There are some small conurbations providing services to the visitors and also the limited accommodation on the island, but no roads just sand tracks cut through the vegetation.  Frazer Island, quite simply, is a 4x4 and camping adventure playground.

The pre-trip briefing was at 16:00 that evening so we returned to our campsite to pack our gear for a three day, two night camping trip.  We returned to the hostel for the briefing and to meet the rest of our fellow travellers.  Our trip was to be made up of 23 people with all of them besides us staying at the hostel and they ranged in age from early twenties to late 60s.  It was a combination that would make this trip one of the most entertaining things we have done so far.  Our guide was called Worm (didn’t get to find out why but I think we all had some ideas by the end), a Bandana wearing, one legged Australian skydiver by trade who thought that just because he could jump out of a plane (13,000 times) he could lead a group of backpacker slackers on a camping trip.

We were unceremoniously split into three groups in line with some sort of UN charter.  Car 1 was made up of a Northern Irish family, Mother, Father, Son and 3 girls who were cousins (all in their 20s).  The mother and father were in their 60s and came from Armagh so had very thick broad accents with the dad’s accent being so strong he was completely unintelligible when he spoke (which was not often, so maybe a blessing in disguise…there’s nothing worse than trying to respond to a question when you have no idea what has just been asked!)  Car 2 was a mixture of European nationalities all in their 20‘s, five Italians one of whom was autistic, a English girl from Cornwall who was a snorkelling instructor (with qualifications) and two Swedish girls.  The final car (Car 3) contained myself and Emma, a girl from Wales, a girl from Germany and three young Irish lads from Waterford.

Now that we had been told what group we were in, the idea was for us to break up into our groups to get to know each other and to plan what we were going to do about food as it was not included in the price and we would be cooking it ourselves.  So once Worm had finished his very basic briefing he disappeared and left us to our own devices without actually introducing any of the groups.  We were then ushered to a van to take us to supermarket!  Right, so we are doing our own thing then.  Emma and I planned a few meals and bought the food we needed along with a small box of wine to keep us oiled on the trip.  Upon leaving the supermarket we bumped into the Irish lads from our car, their trolley had a pack of sausages, a pack of steak, 3 loafs of bread and six 4 litre boxes of white wine (yes, that’s right folks….that’s 24 litres), a large bottle of Jack Daniels and a case of beer.  Clearly all the main food groups covered for a two night camping trip!  Our little 2 litre box suddenly made us look like we were tee totals!!  We were to be back at the hostel for 6:20am the next morning so we headed back to the campsite for dinner and to pack our final bits and pieces.  As we left the lads were already talking about getting on it early.  I think this is going to be interesting!!!

Next:  The Frazer Island trip

Airlie Beach

Since the early days of planning this trip we knew that the east coast had a number of must do trips that due to their location on the coast would be all packed into a short period of time.  The trip to the Whitsunday Islands would be the start of a fairly busy and very interesting few weeks.

Airlie Beach is one of the top tourist towns on the east coast due to its proximity to the string of 74 islands that make up the Whitsundays which are also slap bang in the middle of the world famous Great Barrier Reef.  We arrived and selected a campsite that was only a short bus ride into town and that also did free van storage for those going on a boat trip.  No sooner than we had settled we started checking out the million and one tour agencies looking for a 3 night boat trip that would show us the main sights in the Islands and also allow us to do some snorkelling and hopefully scuba diving.  With so many trips operating out of Airlie Beach ranging from party boats to gin palaces to hands on fast sailing yachts, we had our pick and as it was off season all the different types of trips had spaces.  We narrowed it down to a maxi yacht (fast sailing boat) and the Pacific Sunrise an up market sail boat with its very own chef and less than 20 clients.  After much soul searching we decided that we had roughed it enough over the past few months and opted for the Pacific Sunrise which would be a much more comfortable and relaxing affair.

We left Airlie Beach harbour at 4:00pm and steamed into the sunset with 13 other guests for our first nights mooring at Turtle Bay with a glass of champagne in our hands.  A superb 3 course al a carte dinner was served at 19:30pm giving us time to get to know our fellow passengers and enjoy the ocean surroundings.  There was certainly no Kangaroo Bolognese on this menu!

Next day we made our way to Whitehaven beach, perhaps the most famous of beaches in the Islands.  The sand on the beach is 98% silica so making it very white and reflective and incredibly abrasive.  It actually squeaks when you walk on it.  With the sun shining through the shallow turquoise water and reflecting off the sand below, it would have been an incredible sight however the day we arrived was dull and overcast but still impressive.  This was the second time Emma had visited the beach, her first visit also overcast and dull - to say she was not happy would be an understatement!  She now keeps saying that it will have to be third time lucky…..I’ve a feeling that’s going to cost me a lot money. 

We spent the few hours we had there enjoying the beach, swimming, sunbathing (if you can call it that when there is no sun) and we even managed to setup an impromptu cricket match with the fellow passengers and some Aussie blokes who were also on the beach.  We of course beat the Aussies only because they refused to put their tinnies down whilst fielding!  We also took out the Kayak that was available to us and explored the rocks at the end of the beach.  As we were attempting to paddle around the back of our boat, Emma spotted something in the water about 15m in front of us, which did not have a fin, was around 1.5m long and appeared to have a bobbly back.  As it swam through the water Emma saw its nose, which was long and with a snout…..Crocodile?!  We quickly decided that we were both tired of Kayaking and promptly high tailed it into shore leaving like a speedboats wake behind us.  Emma retold the description to crew and they shrugged their shoulders saying it could have been a crocodile as they have been seen out here, but that it was most likely a very large turtle.  She was not convinced.

Once we were all back at the boat, we raised the anchor and set sail for Luncheon Bay off Hook Island for snorkelling and the first of the dives. 

Myself and Emma had put ourselves down to do an introductory dive, but we were going to have to wait to the next day as there was only so many people that could do it at one time and most of the group were going to give it a go.  As the first dive group returned, we were regaled with tales of their dive and how some had struggled with the claustrophobic sensation common with scuba diving.  One didn’t even make it past the skills course which was conducted in the shallow waters off the beach.  This did not fill us with confidence and we both then started to get quite nervous about tomorrows event.  So to calm our nervous, we spent the evening drinking wine on the poop desk whilst watching the sun go down and the moon rise and for once truly relaxing (it was great knowing we did not have to cook or wash up or make up the bed before sleep).

The second day started early for Emma and I as we were scheduled for the dive at 9:00am.  Emma had done this before and not felt very comfortable with the experience as she too had suffered the feeling of claustrophobia so she was apprehensive about how it would go.  I have always wanted to try diving but I was also very apprehensive due to the tales from the previous days group and not sure how I would feel being under the water.

Once we were kitted up in all the gear, we were dropped at the beach and straight into the water to learn how to clear water out of your regulator.  We waded into shoulder deep water, let the air out of our vests and sank onto our knees first getting used to the sensation of breathing through an aqua lung.  Next we were given the signal to remove the regulator from our mouths, blow bubbles and then put it back into our mouth and push a button to squirt the water out.  We were then to start breathing normally again hoping that there was not any water still in the mouth piece.  All went well and my confidence grew.  Emma was a little shakey with it but did it with no problems.  The next thing we had to learn was how to retrieve our regulator if it had fallen behind us.  This time we threw the regulator behind us and used an special arm movement (similar to a making a windmill with our arm), recovered the regulator and followed the same procedure as before.  This time after pressing the button I started to breath but nothing happened and there was no air.  I immediately sprang to my feet and breathed in the fresh air on the surface.  Slightly nervous again now, I tried it a second time and it went fine.  With my confidence back we followed the final exercise for clearing your mask of water and that was it.  We had all passed with flying colours, and now it was time for the proper dive.

We descended deeper into the water and off we went swimming over the coral, marvelling at the myriad of colours, and watching the abundance of fish as they moved about their business nibbling at pieces of food here and there.  Some of the fish seemed as inquisitive about us as we were about them and would come right up to your goggles almost like they were trying to get in.  We didn’t go much deeper than 3 metres but the experience was amazing and any apprehension I had vanished.  The pickup was out in the sea into a small speed boat which is not easy when you carrying so much weight (just to clarify I am referring to the dive gear).  Buzzing from the experience and nowhere near as scared as I thought I would be, they asked us if we fancied another dive.  Emma decided to sit this one out as she had enjoyed it but was still struggling a bit with the feeling of claustrophobia.  I however jumped at the chance.

So an hour later myself and a German girl, who had also taken to it like a duck to water, went back out for a far more challenging dive.  This time we would have to jump from the boat rather than a beach start (something they did not tell us until we were on the boat) and we would be going down as far as 8m.  This time the water was a little murkier and the coral towered above us like buildings as we swam through the gullies and valleys made by the different coral formations.  I struggled much more this time to keep my buoyancy in the water, sinking as soon as I stopped moving my arms.  As we were only doing introductory dives, the few techniques we learnt did not cover buoyancy, so I was left to having to swim like a drowning dog flailing my legs and arms to stay where I wanted in the water.  After 25 minutes our air was running low so we ascended to be picked up by the speedboat and straight back on to the main boat for some much needed lunch.  I absolutely loved the experience and having talked for many years about doing this, I was so pleased to have finally done it and in such a magical place.  Oh dear, I feel another hobby coming on!!

The rest of the day was spent visiting other beautiful bays and either snorkelling, kayaking or just walking the beach.  The final night on the boat included a little sing song accompanied by our captain who had not only led an interesting life but could sing and play guitar - don’t you just hate people like that :)

On arriving back to Airlie Beach, we spent our final night visiting some old friends of Emma and saying hello to their beautiful 14 month old baby boy called Noah who entertained us with his golf skills!  Like father like son, hey Andrew!

Next:  Hervey Bay and awesome 4x4 adventures on Frazer Island.

Atherton to Airlie Beach:

We made our way south through the small sleepy mountain towns of the tablelands region only stopping when a brown sign presented itself.  Due to the mountains and the high rainfall in this part of Australia (one town even proclaimed to be the wettest in Australia) the area was graced with a large number of waterfalls.  We took a small detour just after a town called Millaa Millaa to follow a tourist drive which gave access to three incredible waterfalls all cascading into deep ravines and valleys.

After taking lots of photos, each trying to out do the other in the “I‘ve got the best shot of the waterfall” competition, we returned to highway 25 and headed back towards the coast.  One of the things that’s great about travelling with no real plan or set agenda is finding the unexpected!  As we drove along the road we saw signs for Paronella Park which on arrival looked like a ancient crumbling castle that had been overtaken by the jungle.  As it was on the way we decided to pop in and see what it was all about but with the provision that if it was too expensive or looked like a dead duck we would not bother going in.

As we wandered towards the entrance we were approached by a tall man, wearing a khaki coloured outfit much like a old fashioned jungle explorer would wear.  He proceeded to ask us where we were from and had we been sent here?  We responded by explaining we had just happened upon the place and no sooner had we finished saying this (it was like we had given him a green light for go) he launched into an enthusiastic tirade telling us all about the place.  Not surprisingly thinking this was just a sales pitch we thanked him for his time and went to have a look in the gift shop.  As we walked away he said that there was no pressure to go in, but he would give us a discount as we had found the place by accident and a guarantee that if we didn’t enjoy it he would give us our money back.  With that in our minds we thought, what the hell, why not! 

We decided to join a guided tour to get the best out of this eclectic place and find out more about its history.  Paronella Park was built by Jose Paronella in the 1930’s.  Jose was a Spanish immigrant who initially came to Australia to make his fortune before returning to Spain to marry his arranged partner.  He was a pastry chef by trade but came to this region to cut sugarcane.  After a few years he had collected enough money to buy a small farm that the original owners had failed to make work and within a relatively short period of time he had managed to successfully turn the farm around and he went on to sell it for a healthy profit.  Realising that this was the way to make money he bought another failing farm, turned it around and sold it on.  After 12 farms he was extremely rich and felt he was now wealthy enough to return to Spain to marry his arranged partner, but she had got bored of waiting and had married someone else in the meantime.  Not wanting to go back to Australia empty handed he married her sister instead, a moral to us all I think!

During his travels looking for farms he came across the plot of land where Paronella Park now stands which was situated next to the highway and had its very own waterfall. 

Usually this would be ideal land for sugarcane, but it was too rocky to plant crops and so he was able to purchase it for a very small sum.  However, crop planting was not what he had in mind.  Ever since he was a child he was told stories by his grandmother about people who lived in a castle, but it was always made clear that this was only for the rich and wealthy people.  It soon became his dream to one day build his own castle, but most importantly, rather than it just being for wealthy people he wanted everyone to be able to enjoy it.  So that’s what he did.  As it was next to the highway people would stop and marvel at this castle in the jungle and at the same time come to enjoy the home made ice cream, cream teas and bath in the pool at the bottom of the waterfall.

After a number of years of backbreaking work he had built a home for him and his family, the castle, a ball room which was also used as a cinema, a staircase down to a tropical garden lined with trees and exotic plants, tennis courts, changing rooms, a second castle which was a restaurant and also somehow found time to build Australia’s first Hydro Electric generator powering the place as well as the refrigerators for the ice cream.  All this, pretty much built by his own hand and don’t forget in the 1930’s so no modern engineering techniques at hand.  He had removed so much mud and sand from one area of his land to build all this that he had inadvertently created a tunnel which he then tried to line with tropical fish tanks but he had to abandon the idea due to too much water leeching from the tunnel walls.

On the buildings you could actually see the finger marks where Jose had smeared the render on to the wall by hand.  Unfortunately, due to the high salt content in the sand he used from the creek and the numerous tropical storms that have devastated this region over the years, most of the buildings had either partly collapsed or were in the advanced stages of decay.

The tour was a fascinating story of how one man can realise his dreams, and even thought he was clearly a little eccentric, the story of what he did and how he did it was very inspiring.  During the tour we also found out that the enthusiastic man at the entrance was the new owner who had bought the place in the late 90’s after it had been abandoned for 18 years.  Ironically this was not a brown sign experience and was completely privately owned and run, meaning it will only survive with visitor contributions and by word of mouth, hence his desire to ensure the experience would be a good one for us.  It was and worth every penny.

After our unexpected stop, we eventually made it to our overnight campsite just north of Mission Beach at Bingil Bay.  The site was another low cost camping option this time owned by the local council and came to the princely sum of $10, which included a hot shower this time.  The campsite was small only allowing 15 vans at most but was basically right on the beach, giving us another million dollar view for the night.

The next day I awoke to a pinch and a punch (why does she always remember?!) as it was the first of September.  It suddenly dawned on us both that our journey was coming to an end and that we only had a few weeks left in Australia before reaching New Zealand and then it would be all too soon before we would be coming home to the run up to Christmas.  Time seems to be flying with it feeling like only yesterday that we stepped off the plane in Tokyo.  Australia has been a whirlwind and we are loving this place so much that we wish we could keep going and join the East and West with another epic road trip…another time me thinks.
We headed south to Townsville but on the way we decided to take a detour from the road to visit Australia’s highest waterfall, Wallaman Falls.  The detour would be a massive 100km off our route and so had to have the wow factor to make it worth our while.  We felt it was going to be.  We followed the signs and the road soon became a single track as it made its way up the mountain.  As the road gained height it started to twist and turn as it followed the contours of the mountain.  Some 10 kms before reaching the top, the tarmac ran out and the road turned into another off road beauty with a clay like surface and lots of very big pot holes.  The rain had started just before we began the ascent and it looked like it had set in for the day.  The very close and foreboding looking rainforest that now lined the clay road seemed to hold the clouds in place making it look misty and quite eerie.  We finally reached the Falls car park after an hours drive and we were excited to get to see this 300m free fall waterfall.  With anticipation in our hearts we rushed to the observation deck and looked out over the barrier.  There, in our sights was……nothing but thick white cloud.  We could hear the roar of the water as it fell over the cliff and hit the bottom of the valley, but we saw absolutely nothing !!!!!!!!!  The picture on the sign looked good though!!!!!!

We did think about hiking down to the base of the falls as there was a path, but it was very steep and wet and already feeling disillusioned we did not want to run the risk of getting down there only to see more cloud.  That would probably be the final straw!  So, with no other choice, we turned the van around and made the long and bumpy descent back to the bottom and back to the main road.  As we left the mountains and returned to the flat expanses of farming land that sit close to the coast, the sun came out and the rain stopped.  After a number of expletives from Emma along the lines of “bleeding typical”, we looked back at where we had been only to see the clouds remaining in place, seemingly trapped by the mountains.  Just as well!

Next: Airlie Beach and the Whitsundays.

Cape Tribulation

Before we started to make our way south, we decided to head north to the end of the sealed road and a place where two national parks meet, Cape Tribulation.  As we left Cairns (pronounced Canns by the locals) we decided to visit one of the main tourist attractions in this area to break up the journey.

The Skytrain is a series of cable cars which is 15 kms long in total and takes you on a journey over the top of the tropical rainforest clad mountains that dominate this part of Australia.

After some stops along the way which allow you to explore the rainforest a bit closer, the cable car eventually deposits you in a village high in the mountains called Kuranda, basically your good old fashioned tourist trap.  The village was filled with shops and stalls selling all manner of arts and crafts, with some made from leather/skin of the critters who roam around Oz (Kangaroo purse anyone?!).  The descent was either back the way we had come or via the Kuranda Scenic Railway which weaved its way down the gorge past waterfalls and through the rainforest back into Cairns.  We decided to take the train to add to the adventure and have some lovely video for the train spotters amongst us (you know who you are).  A short 15 min bus journey completed the circuit and took us back to our van.

From here, we made our way 75km north to a little seaside town called Port Douglas.  On arriving we drove to the town centre looking for a campsite that was recommended in our bible and managed to secure the last spot in the site.  Keen to explore our surroundings we went for a quick walk to see what was what.  The walk into town was a short one and we found so many bars and restaurants we did not k now what to do with ourselves.  On the other side of the campsite was another amazing beach and a lookout on the hill at the end of it which provided stunning views.  Excited about being so close to the action and it being a Saturday night, we raced back to get cleaned up and changed ready for a proper night out.

 

We found a nice little Italian and broke the budget for a change with an amazing meal and nice bottle of red wine (Australian of course) and then not wanting to end the evening early we made our way to the harbour front and found a large bar with a live band about to start playing.  As we sipped our drinks, the band set up and made ready their set.  The three members looked rough and tumble types and with enough leather and denim between them to secure their rock credentials we thought this should be good.  Emma is the one that spotted it first “The bass player has got plucked eyebrows” she said.  Now we all know what that means don’t we kids.  To hammer the point home as soon as they started the lead singer danced round the bar like a ballerina wearing a tutu throwing in an occasional bottom wiggle for good measure.  Only the drummer seemed to fit the bill however he was playing a digital drum kit and just kept his head down.  I have seen a lot of pub cover bands before but this lot gets the award for both being the worst and the most entertaining.  During the set the lead singer would interact with the crowd either dancing with them or pretending to rub himself up against them.  Not wanting to get involved we moved to a safer distance, which proved to be a good choice as shortly afterwards he picked a young lad out of the crowd (who I think thought he was just going to be asked to sing into the microphone), taped him to a chair and gave him personal lap dance.  Thankfully, no clothes were removed during the process, but regardless the poor kids face was a picture.

During the night the rain started which made our exit from Port Douglas a wet one, a theme that would unfortunately continue.  We drove north again through the town of Mossman and over the river at Daintree via a cable ferry. 

The road from here became narrow as it winded its way through the jungle, over the mountains and besides the long sandy beaches of yet another national park.  The view would have been spectacular however the rain had turned heavy with high winds and low cloud, blocking all possible views.  The road was challenging at times especially in 2 tons of campervan but has to be one of the greatest driving roads in the world.  We finally reached Cape Tribulation and it was sheeting it down, so we raced to the beach for a quick look and yes it was lovely but spoiled by the rain.

Our nights stop was in the middle of the jungle in the aptly named Jungle campsite, which although it was a small campsite we were the only ones there.  I’m not sure if this was due to the weather or word had got out we were coming!  The rain continued to be heavy all night and it showed us that our van was not quite as waterproof as it should have been.  The next morning was much the same and with a heavy heart we decided to leave acknowledging that it was just too stormy to see anything more.  It’s at times like these that some of the downsides of campervanning start to show.  It’s great when its sunny but if you’re wet and cold, you have no way to dry or get warm unless you are driving.

We made a hasty retreat back the way we had come before the rivers and creeks got so high we would not have been able to cross them.  This was a good call in the end as the final creek was flowing so fast it would have been unpassable in anything but a 4x4 within a few hours.

We retraced our steps to Mossman but instead of heading back towards Cairns we turned right up into the Tableland Mountain region which is west of Cairns.  The weather was still bad as we made our way along another winding mountain road, with the only views of the inside of clouds.  As the road twisted and banked around invisible mountains and deep valleys, it made its way higher cutting through the jungle with many wet and steep switch backs making the journey from Cape Tribulation a must do with any vehicle.  We could only imagine what it would be like on a dry day in a sports car.  At the top of the mountains, the scenery turns into sprawling areas of land perfect for farming (the Tablelands).  The main crops are sugar cane and bananas with dairy farming filling in the gaps.  To transport the sugar cane to the processing plants in the larger towns they have built an intricate network of narrow gauge railway which seem to cross the landscape like a spiders web.

We were heading for Lake Tinaroo some 100km south of Mossman.  In Cairns we had found an atlas which marked the free or low cost campsites, so again trying to save money we purchased the book and decided to head for one it recommended.  Usually we have been paying anything from $25 - $35 for a unpowered site, this one would be $10 with no showers.  We found the site a short distance down an unsealed road and right on the lake front providing fantastic views (it was actually a reservoir but could have been a lake before I guess) and with only a few other vehicles on the site, it was a very peaceful place to stay.

We woke to sunshine but seeing the storm raging all around us it made us feel like we were in the eye of a hurricane and no sooner had we left the rain began to follow us again. We quickly got back onto the Kennedy highway at Atherton and continued our journey south.

Next:  The journey back to the coast.

Cairns

After a 3 hr flight from Alice Springs we arrived in Cairns, Queensland the “sunshine state”.  Cairns is the start of our journey down the east coast and our last 6 weeks in Australia and if everything goes to plan we will be spending our last week in Sydney.  So from here on in, this part of the trip will differ from the previous journey in that Emma has done this part of the trip before (east coast and NZ) so with her expert knowledge we will be doing the best this coast and New Zealand can offer and missing the rubbish bits, no pressure Coates!

When we arrived at the hostel at 20:30 and proceeded to check in with a mad old woman (too many drugs when she was younger me thinks or maybe not enough now) we found out that we had a free evening meal included within our daily rate, so with a map and vouchers in hand we sped off to find the Woolshed bar.  The Woolshed is famous in Cairns for being the party pub (back when Emma was travelling it was known as the local meat market and by all accounts nothing has changed) and the free food was an obvious ploy to get people in who will hopefully stay to drink the cheap beer.  Tonight’s offer was to pay $10 and get 5 drinks.  We had our food and sat for a while drinking and watching the music videos on the big screen.  It was a Tuesday night so not exactly busy but for us it was heaven as it was a night out. 

Cairns is only really about two things, one being a departure point to visit part of the great barrier reef and the other as a party town.  So the next day, ready to hate it despite Emma‘s praises for the place, we went for a wander around the town, and you know, the place has a lot of charm.  Its full of European backpackers but compared with what we had seen on the west coast it was fairly large with some older stone buildings to break up the modern metal clad buildings.  Cairns is right on the sea but its sea front is just mud flats so they have built a free swimming pool in a park to laze around in and to take a cooling dip which gives the place a very laid back feel.  The town is surrounded by mountains covered in tropical rainforest and with the temperature in the high 20’s it made the place look more like parts of Asia than Australia.

After two nights in the hostel having to listen to other peoples conversation on their mobiles through the paper thin walls and having herds of flip flop wearing elephants clomping about at 6:00 am in the morning, we happily checked out to go and pick up our campervan.  The original plan for the east coast was use the bus and stay in hostels, but with our new knowledge about costs and the quality of hostels in Australia (basically they haven’t been updated in any way since Emma was there) we decided to go back to a campervan.  The other benefit was that we would be able to stop where and when we wanted, a freedom we would not have with the bus.We had booked a van with Cheapa Campa because going with Apollo again would have been more expensive, but when we got to the depot we realised that Cheapa Campa was basically the older vans in the Apollo fleet hence being cheaper to hire.  So we checked in and due to certain vans not being in the right place, they ended up giving us another Apollo van that was actually newer than the one we had on the west coast!  They also threw in some extras for free and so for almost $1000 less we had the exact same van.  Obviously valued customers now.

So after we had filled in the paperwork we moved in to our new home for the next 5 weeks - a Toyota Hiace Hitop.  The Hiace is basically a converted mini bus with a high top roof and designed for 2.5 people (the .5 being a small child weighing no more than 50kg).  When in transport/eating mode the back of the van has a table just big enough to seat 2.5 people and in sleep mode the table/seats convert to a very comfortable double bed.  The .5 would sleep in the roof space on a thin piece of chipboard which pulls out over the kitchen space, so making it impossible to move around with it in place.  As we have no .5 (except perhaps Emma’s rucksack) we use the area to store our clothes.

The kitchen area is just big enough for one person to stand without moving much, and the other has to be either sitting or “out of the bloody way”.  Washing up is achieved, not via a dishwasher as we would both prefer, but by a very small sink with cold pumped water from the onboard water tank.  For cooking we have 2 gas rings which means most of our meals have to be achieved only using two pans.  Power is provided by a 12v house battery (separate to the engine battery) which runs the fridge and the internal lights and when you are connected to the 240v mains (if you have paid for a site with that facility) you can run the microwave, electric kettle and toaster.

This small space can only be navigated by two people by using a pre-rehearsed dance routine, which makes cooking a meal extremely interesting but somehow it still feels like home.  So by the time we have finished this little adventure we will have spent a total of 15 weeks in a space no bigger than a downstairs toilet, a space the size of which would be illegal to keep a cow in.  Any bets on whether we will still be talking to each other? J

Once safely ensconced in a campsite close to town and loaded up with food, we unpacked again.  Being experts at campervanning now we knew exactly where everything needed to go.  With the jobs done, we tripped the light fandango and made a curry, accompanied by a box of wine and toasted our new home.

Whilst still in Cairns we took the opportunity to go to the cinema and see a movie (Ghost Writer, not bad at all) and it made us realise just how much we were missing watching a bit of TV now and again.  Not since Singapore have we sat and vegged out in front of the old goggle box.  So to try and break up the future monotony of campervanning and to save on the cost of going to the cinema, I hatched a plan.  Our laptop does not have a DVD player so I made some enquires into an external DVD drive and after some research on the internet about the feasibility of the plan with our particular laptop, we purchased said drive along with 3 bargain basement DVD’s.  Our first movie night in the van was a old classic….Borat.  Since then Emma has been constantly repeating some of the funniest lines in the film in a semi-Kazakhstan stylie voice.  Maybe Borat was not such a good choice considering the confines of our home….future purchases will be more considered! 

Next:  A little trip north before our journey south.

Part 2 - the Wettening

The Olgas (aboriginal name of Kata Tjuta) are very close to Ayers Rock making this part of Australia look like a geologists theme park (please Mum, can we go on the sedimentary rock formation now?  No, not until you have eaten your hotdog).  The Olgas are a group of large domes of conglomerate rock formations consisting of pebbles and boulders which have been bound together with the sand they originally rested in.  They were originally part of a sea bed, some 550 million years ago when this part of Australia was a giant inland sea.  The sea eventually disappeared and over time wind and rain has eroded the solid mass into the shapes you see today, and with a bit of tectonic action lifted them above the surrounding landscape.

Sunrise was a bit of a wash out with the rain continuing and the clouds blocking anything noteworthy.  The plan was to complete a 3.5 hr walk through the Olgas looking at this very spectacular place, but with the rain still hammering down, Shona suggested we did a different and shorter 30 minute walk up into one of the valleys so we could at least see the place up close and personal.  Considering how the rock was made and what its made up of, the domes were surprisingly smooth even up close.  The rain added another dimension giving the rock a different, more purpley colour (everything out here is red) and created small waterfalls some cascading off the top and some sprouting out the sides like a leaky sponge.

After completing the walk and the rain easing off, we decided to try our luck and do the beginning of the 3.5 hr trek we were supposed to do.  We got to the first look out some 30 minutes from the bus and the heavens opened again, making the decision whether to carry on or not for us.

It was a real shame about the weather as this place looked amazing and the walk through its domes would have been spectacular, but it was just too wet to carry on.  We have to say, and this may not go down too well with some people, but we thought the Olgas were even more impressive than Ayres Rock and that was pretty incredible.

With plans having to be changed due to the weather our knowledgeable guide had an idea, why not go back to Ayers Rock to see if there were any waterfalls on it.  If so it would be a very rare sight indeed.  So we hopped back on the bus and drove the 35 km back Ayers Rock as quick as we could.  As we drove up to the rock everyone was nose up to the windows looking out for falls.  We didn’t have to look too hard.  There were waterfalls everywhere most cascading off the top of the rock and falling some 300m.  The noise they made was defending at times as multiple falls would appear within metres of each other depending on the way the rock diverted the rain water.  We were all more than happy to dash out into the rain to watch the spectacle oblivious to the fact we were getting very wet again, but we were all uncaring as this was a once in a lifetime experience. 

We were there just at the right time, because as soon as the rain started to ease the waterfalls very quickly began to peter out, showing just how rare it is to see such a sight.  After taking enough photos to fill the Louvre, we left for the visitor centre for a look at the displays and hot cup of tea and a hot meat pie.

The afternoon was spent driving another 400km to a different campsite and the place of the next days adventures at Kings Canyon. On the way, Shona pulled off onto an unsealed road and drove down it for a few kilometres to look for firewood for us to collect for the campfire.  On finding a good spot we all went off into the bush to find suitable wood.  Its very interesting just how quickly you lose the road or even a vehicle when you go just a few meters into the bush.  You can totally see how people get lost in this vast wilderness.  Once we had collected plenty of wood it was piled high on the top of the bus, we continued our journey.

Our campsite was 10km down a unsealed road behind a very remote roadhouse.  We pulled into our home for the night and began to setup camp. 

Being a luxury camping trip (?!) we even had a hot shower available to us.  Where’s the catch I here you cry?  Well, to get the hot water we had to fire up the furnace ourselves if we wanted to use it.  Emma being a huge fan of hot showers made it her personal mission to get the fire started, along with Alan another member of our group.  After at least an hour of trying to make a fire with damp wood and smoke constantly smothering the fire (good job our lives did not depend on it) they managed to get it started and heat the water for a shower.  Emma spent the rest of the night promoting the shower like a door to door salesman would.  Success was mixed with only 5 of the group using it (2 of them being us….I daren’t say no!).

Even though we were a big distance from our previous nights location, this place had also seen significant rainfall the night before and upon inspecting the swag bags they were very wet and the bags were unusable.  Thankfully, Shona was able to borrow some dry swag bags from the next door camp spot so we were not having to prepare to get into wet bags.  Dinner was a fantastic and was just what we needed to warm us up before bed.  Chicken, Apricot and Peach curry with Damper bread, a traditional bush food (the bread not the curry).  Learning the lesson from the previous night we slept in the dinning shed, however as luck would have it there was no rain that night.

Another early start at 6am and for us the start of our last day on the trip.  Half the group had booked the 5 day trip and much worse weather was predicted over the coming days - still waiting to hear how they got on:(  After breakfast we made our way to Kings Canyon, and with a dry day ahead of us we completed a 8km walk around the edge of the canyon and a climb down into a tropical oasis called the garden of Eden which contained a water hole and unique trees and plants. 

As is becoming the norm for the trip, the views, the geology, the flora and fauna were just incredible and with the expert eye of our guide we were treated to a fun and informative walk through yet another diverse and alien landscape.

Our final adventure on this trip was something I had been looking forward to since we landed in this country, a proper 4x4 off road experience.  Part of our journey back to civilisation was via a 100km unsealed road.  The bus powered down this route sliding as it hit patches of sand and vibrating like a washing machine on a spin cycle - awesome, let’s go 4x4!  We stopped for our final break at Palmer River and decided to go for a swim.  

Even though the weather had made the trip challenging at times, it certainly made it interesting and we had such fun with the guide and the rest of the group (I know to you it may sound like hell, but for us its just the way we roll).  We bid a fond farewell to the remainder of the group doing the 5 day trip and after a very dodgy looking exchange with another bus (food in exchange for tourists) on a lonely crossroads, we were whisked back to Alice Springs for a hot shower, a beer and some hot food.

All in all, a quite fabulous couple of days!

Next:  The start of the East coast and our final 6 weeks in Oz.