Category: Uncategorized

  • Broome, Dampier Peninsula, Pilbara.

    Cheers everyone. Come Away with Me.

    Posted August 27th 2023

    The magic of Broome at sunset is legendary. We “east-coasters” have magic sunrises over water, here it is the sunset over the sea that dazzles us. Having a 4WD beach and a long convoy of camels at sunset, sets the scene for some great photos. I think I enjoyed being on the sand taking pictures more than I would have enjoyed being up on a camel – did that once, in Mongolia!

    On our last evening in Broome, we had dinner at the ‘Roey’ (Roebuck Hotel) then took ourselves to the historic “Sun Pictures” cinema. What a unique experience to sit in deck chairs in the open air cinema, in the longest continuously operating theatre in the world, and have an A320 Airbus fly above us at approximately 300 feet with all the strobe lights and engine noise, whilst watching the movie and gazing at the Southern Cross, all at the same time. We saw “The New Boy” by Warrick Thornton, a most appropriate film for where we were, and one I’d recommend to my more astute film loving friends.

    However, I was pleased to leave the very crowded Broome caravan park the next morning. It’s saving grace was a great pool which we loved so we could cool down in the searing heat. 

    We decided to head north up the Dampier Peninsula towards Cape Leveque, a place we had stayed 9 years ago. The first joy was the sealed road.  Memories of the rust red sandy road were revived once we turned off the bitumen and headed to the coast along Middle Lagoon road. Same ruts and sand as before. We went to Smithy’s beach this time and what a treat that was. Our camper was perched on the cliff over the beach – unencumbered views north, east and west. Sunsets were bright red and lingered long after the sun had slid down behind the red ochre cliffs. But for me, the best sight was sometime between midnight and dawn, black sky with a myriad of twinkling stars, and over the calm water a red crescent moon was rising in the east, casting a golden glow across the water. A photograph could never do this justice, I just had to stare awestruck. Nick had got up to pee about 10 minutes before me and the moon hadn’t risen, how lucky was I!! We both lay in our bed and looked out at the moon.

    At Smithy’s we finally got the kayaks in the water. This was just the second time on the trip. Supposedly there were sharks and crocs in the water, but we didn’t see any. Nick and George did a couple of long paddles to coves around the point. We swam despite people catching sharks along the beach. There were sometimes up to 40 caravans parked on the beach and another 20 up on the cliff. We spent a lovely evening singing along with George and others around the campfire. It was an idyllic camp. After 4 nights there we at last headed south for the first time.

    Amazing sandstone rock for my collection. From Barn Hill beach. Picasso? The Scream?

    We’d heard Barn Hill Station was worth a visit. It’s about 100km south of Broome on the west coast. It was heaving at the seams with people, mostly with WA number plates, mainly from Mandurah we discovered. We tucked our van into a small spot and made the most of 2 nights here. The usual entertainment was on, an old bloke and woman with electronic backup music and singers, singing old 60’s songs. The crowd watching on their deck chairs loved it, we listened from a distance. The morning walk along the beach was quite spectacular, the rock formations were other worldly, like a mini Bungles but sea, wind and sand worn. I found it very hard not to fill my pockets with stones to bring home. The colours are simple gorgeous. The coffee shop selling homemade coffee scrolls and bread was first class. Pizzas and a homemade dinner was offered every night. After 2 nights we farewelled George & Julie, they loved this place so much and stayed another 4 nights.

    Next stop was Eighty Mile Beach for 3 nights. 

    Nick: “At Eighty Mile Beach about an hour before dawn on 17th August I got up for a pee. I looked up to the sky at the myriad of stars. I saw a line of lights travelling approximately south to north about the width of a held up little finger apart, mine in particular. They were travelling fairly quickly and took about 1 minute to go from my right to my left and disappear. They were about as bright as a good satellite and easily visible. They were equidistant apart and there were between 10 and 15 of them except the penultimate one was missing. I thought that they were birds at first but then the thought occurred to me that birds do not fly in straight lines and they do not illuminate themselves at night, night birds tend toward stealth as a characteristic to prey upon the unfortunate. Next I thought that they were aeroplanes but why would there be 12 or so of them all going the same way unless the RAAF was delivering planes to Ukraine or some such similar exercise, but there wasn’t any propellor, turbine or jet engine noise, so not a flight path then. So I assumed then that they were satellites and that they must be on some sort of surveillance or spying mission. A very interesting thing to see and I would encourage you all to to stay up at night looking at the sky. I can hear your brains ticking over and asking the question, “How long has he been seeing these lights in the sky?” Discovered in the news next day it was the Chinese doing surveillance!”

    80 mile Beach ride

    Back to 80 mile beach. This camp site was full as expected. It’s a fisherman’s paradise. 4WD’s drive along the beach, park and throw a line, and haul in decent amounts of fish. The sea is turquoise blue, the sand is white, shells are prolific, and Godwit shore birds from Siberia use this as a landing spot in summer. So we enjoyed long strolls collecting many shells, a long bicycle ride along the tidal flats, bird watching, sunset drinks with other campers and a few beach drives of course. 

    Moving on, we’d run out of food after 9 days of no shopping, so had to do a pitstop at Port Hedland. Almost the worst camping site so far, for different reasons compared to Darwin which still holds the record. We were parked on an intersection on gravel, tiny site, no trees. Around mid afternoon a 50 seater tourist bus arrived at the intersection, disgorged about 45 over 50’s who tottered off to the cabins near us. Before dawn the next morning, we could hear the wheelie suitcases coming towards the intersection. Nick got out to pee and found the group standing in a circle at the intersection. He didn’t pee into the middle of the circle, but was tempted! The bus removed them all at 5.30am. We gladly scooted away as soon as we could. But we did enjoy a beer at The Esplanade in Port Hedland after doing the shopping and sat watching a giant ship being escorted up the river. There were 17 ships on the horizon waiting to come dockside to be filled with the stuff being dug out of our country. Houses in PH were covered in red dust, nothing desirable about living there.

    We headed east of PH to Marble Bar next, famous for being the hottest place in Australia. The wind was howling, dust storms were whipped up where the ground had been burnt and left bare. The 250kms was a slow boring grind through remote flat country. We travelled along the East Pilbara Geoheritage Route. Marble Bar however was an interesting town, rich in mining, indigenous and pioneering history. The marble bar itself was a beautiful work of art by Mother Nature. The colours of the Jasper rocks were dazzling. The day was hot and windy so we escaped into the iconic Iron Clad Hotel built in 1893 for a beer and half a burger each. To Nick’s great joy, the owner was a Melbourne AFL supporter and had an eclectic mix of footy memorabilia mixed in with typical outback pub stuff, like cow skulls with horns, stubby holders and caps nailed to the rafters, number plates, foreign currency and so much more. The camp site in Marble Bar was small and grassy with lovely white trunked ghost gums all around us.

    We’d been told about Carawine Gorge by Neil as a must visit, so off we headed almost 200kms east, not seeing anyone the whole drive except a few mining road trains. At the Gorge, about 5 vans were camped. We looked, we walked about, had a cuppa and a biscuit and decided to move on. The edge of the water was slimy, not inviting for a swim. The way out meant letting the tyres down to get through the deep loose river pebbles and sand, very taxing for the car to drag Swifty through. Hence another stop to replace another totally disintegrated donut. 

    Onwards to Running Waters Waterhole, on Warrawagine Station, recommended by Patrick. We camped in a lovely wooded spot with just one other van quite a distance away. There was a “road” down to the Oakover River edge, very 4WD, muddy, rocky, not recommended for towing vehicles according to the mudmap we had. As we walked down, here was a couple dragging their Goldstream like Cle & Ben’s, along this track. Must have taken them 2 hours of strain to eventually get over about 100 mtrs. I hope they allowed half a day to get out! Anyway, we walked to the river, had a wonderful swim, and thoroughly enjoyed our silent camp surrounded by white-trunked gumtrees.

    Next, we knew there was a long drive ahead. Karijini National Park was the aim. The first 134kms along Skull Springs Rd was arduous but sooo spectacular. I felt as though I was in a Namatjira painting at times, or a Hans Heysen of the Flinders Ranges. The road was mostly good and we arrived at Nullagine for morning tea. On a Sunday, nothing is open – glad I made the thermos. 

    We then had 192kms to get to Newman, unsealed road. We decided to go for it, google maps said 3 hours plus, but we did it in 2. Most of it was sealed! Roy Hill mine was big – even diverted the road around it.

    Newman was covered in red dust, so we filled up with diesel, grabbed an ice cream and headed out of town. By now it was mid afternoon – a very long day of driving for us. Looked for a camping spot that Patrick had recommended but ended up at the train line, a dead end. Another 50 kms further along we found a 24hr free camp in the middle of no-where, but who cared at that stage, at least we could stop! The enormous skies here and the red rocks beside us were awesome, we’re almost alone, there’s a loo, and the road trains rattle by but not too closely. We took a day off. Needed rest, a few car and van repairs, read a book, drink some wine, catch up on calls thanks to Gina providing great 4G for the mines and us.

    Karijini National Park.

    This is a destination I’d wanted to visit forever, and it didn’t disappoint in the slightest. We met up with George & Julie at the visitor centre in Karijini, we had booked a campsite, they hadn’t. The whole Park was full, so they nestled in beside us on our site, just as well I booked the bigger site this time. Nick did a few running repairs for George on his car & van. The evenings were balmy, our dinners together were hilarious, but short. We exhausted ourselves each day and retired by 8.00pm at the latest.

    On the first afternoon, we walked to Fortescue Falls and a little further on to Fern Pool – a fabulous swimming hole. It was freezing, but crystal clear and beckoning us to get in. Such a treat! The climb back to the top of the gorge – 285 steps – was good exercise. I’m so glad my new hip gives me no issues at all. 

    Naturally paved path

    The second morning, we 4 did the Gorge Rim walk which had some gnarly steps – 200 uneven Class 4 rocky ones – to take us down to the gorge level. Along the bottom of the gorge we traipsed through water, over sharp rocks and ledges, but mostly walked under shady trees along “naturally paved” paths. A swim in Fortescue falls gorge was so refreshing at the end, still very cold water, but cooled us down ready for the 285 steps back to the top. We all decided Karijini was a fabulous place.

    But we still had to go to Hamersley Gorge. Oh my, what a truely stunning place, a marvel of Nature on a grand scale. The rocks looked like swirling marble cake, coloured by a red palate of infinite colours. The gorge pool, again freezing, was a great place to swim in and gaze up at the towering coloured rocks above. I took a lot of photos, it is hard to cull down to a couple for this blog. Our free campsite above the gorge was magic. I loved the views of Hamersley Range, the sunset and sunrise bouncing off the rocks, the serenity there, as well as the joy of being with our friends for one more night.

    Next morning we parted company. George and Julie went to Tom Price direction. We headed north along the mining road beside the train tracks, for which we needed a permit from Rio Tinto. It was a long arduous day of driving, about 350kms, much of the time with vast open plains. We did drive the Manuwarra (Red Dog) Highway.

    We arrived by the seaside, a most welcome smell after a week in dust. I couldn’t wait to wash the clothes, and my hair which had become like straw. So here at Point Samson, we enjoy relative luxury.

    I will finish now, once again the blog has become quite long. Next we travel down the Coral Coast. It is getting hotter here now, we are ready for a cooler climate. Can’t finish without one of my favourite wildflowers.

    Sturt Desert Pea

    Jen & Nick. xxx

  • Farewell Pajinka

    Part 3 Weipa, Chilli Beach & broken donuts.

    Alas, it was time to move on. We had pre-booked a campsite at Cairns anticipating our return date to be May 29th…we had to push that ahead to June 3rd. 

    Fruit Bat Falls
    Fruit Bat Falls

    So, leaving Seisia, with no problems getting over the Jardine River. Magic stop for a swim at Fruit Bat Falls, not far from Eliot Falls which we’d stayed at earlier. A bus load of tourists stopped by at the same time, most carried their striped fold up chairs down to watch the Falls…what a pity for them. Refreshed, we ground on through hundreds of kilometres of the red dust, stopped briefly at Bramwell Junction for lunch, then continued to Weipa on the west coast. The caravan park was quite full but we managed to get in. It was the first time I’d felt that the annual nomad mob had arrived at the Top End. 

    We asked about a mine tour but alas, it was not happening on the sunday. Disappointment. But wait…a lovely young lady, named Megan, wandered in to our campsite asking if anyone wanted to do a mine tour tomorrow, she had 5 places left. What luck, right place right time. We said yes of course. George was happy to do his own thing for the morning.

    Weipa mine tour

    Weipa Mine & Town Tour was very interesting, not only did we drive through the bauxite mine in full operation, but we also had a tour around the town, along the coast to learn about the birds and fish, into a pristine piece of bush to learn something about bush tucker, and of course a lot about the settlement history, the fact that Rio Tinto manages the town along with an indigenous representative and that there’s no Council. Rio builds everything the town needs in order to keep workers happily living here. It seems to work.

    The sunsets over Weipa are awesome. After the sun disappears, there’s about half an hour of the sky turning a deeper and deeper red, extending it’s magnificence far longer than expected.

    Time to move south, actually from Weipa, as the bird flies, we were in a straight line east by the end of the day. But it took us 300km of dust, river crossings, potholes, and corrugations before we reached Chilli Beach. The country was beautiful with grass trees dotted through the bush, small mountain peaks, rocky outcrops, and termite mounds. I’m intrigued by these, they’re like sentinels standing in the bush, often in red ochre colours, among spindly black and white trunks of hundreds of gums. The more I looked the more I saw human forms, like statues of Mary with robes spreading down to the earth. Some very large mounds looked like Gaudi’s La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, which I would imagine was inspired by nature. They also reminded me of free-form honeycomb. What else can a passenger do but imagine things when travelling all day? Having months ahead of passing more termite mounds than I can fathom, who knows what I’ll see in them next!

    Anyway, Chilli beach is remote, always windy. In 2019, cyclone Trevor pounded the coast, the devastation is still obvious. Massive trees were uprooted, palm roots were undermined leaving groups of them precariously hanging on to the shore. We had a campsite well protected from the never stopping winds. Bush Turkeys proved great assets for games of bullseye. The boys climbed palms to get coconuts and Marilyn made scones for morning tea. Dinner on the second of our 3 nights was roast pork…under the stars. 

    We did a quick trip to Portland Roads, a lovely little fishing village that had been a military base during the war…no evidence of that now, even the jetty had been dismantled. But sadly the Cafe wasn’t opening for another week or so.

    Portland Roads

    Lockhart River. This town is an Aboriginal settlement with all the services anyone needs. Fuel was $2.85! By now we were accustomed to paying $7 for 2 litres of milk, so how the locals manage such high costs, I do not know. We found the art gallery where we could peruse the original artworks easily but found it difficult to find someone to serve us. The standard was not great – the best we’ve seen in a gallery so far were at Port Douglas. I could easily have purchased any of the paintings there, if I had a rich benefactor. The other claim to fame for Lockhart River was it’s prominence in WW2. Americans were based in the military base there with the Aussies. There’s a very impressive airstrip, some good interpretive signs and a canon. Loved the outdoor waiting lounge for the current airport passengers. We had our picnic lunch by the sea where large lichen covered rocks lined the shoreline. The drive back to camp (40km) through thick rainforest and savannah grasslands was always interesting, although we saw very few animals. The kangas here are small pale grey, like little wallabies. Next morning we headed off south again.

    Crunch time – literally. Driving the 185km of red gravel, potholes, river crossings can become tedious…we were cruising at the front of the group at about 60kmh when crunch, we hit the deepest culvert with the sharpest edge, hard. Smashed the side mirror but annihilated the back passenger side tyre. Roadside stop and quick swap over, but also filled the horrible hole with shrubbery, then found the yellow sign that should have warned us, chucked in the bush nearby. So replaced that in the hole also. But regarding our car, that’s just the beginning….Nick can write next.

    Roadside after a slow burn with termite mounds.

    Just after wrecking the tyre by putting a slash in the side wall, I noticed that the Tachometer had stopped working, it is driven electronically off the the back of the alternator, then I noticed that the battery light was on as well and the voltmeter was not the usual 13.5 volts. We continued on the minor road from Chilli beach and out to the Peninsula Development Road and headed south to Musgrave Station. By the time we got there the voltmeter was reading 8.5 volts with the car still running. My right hand man Andy and myself set about rigging up a solar panel to charge the battery, we isolated the primary battery from all of the ancillary stuff, cable tied the panel to the roof and hey presto we have charge to the main battery. A hybrid car. We drove about 800 km without the alternator working back to Cairns. Going up a steep hill north of Mareeba the rubber universal joint on the rear tail shaft destroyed itself and had to be replaced. Loosely referred to as the donut, this is the second one we’ve had to replace, so will carry plenty of spares for the next leg of the trip. Back to Jen.

    It was at Laura that the boys rigged up the solar panels to our roof rack, but we needed a tow to jump start the car – hence the picture of George’s car with the tow rope. I had to sacrifice a visit to the Quinkan Cultural Centre and  gallery in Laura due to car issues, but I wasn’t going to miss the rock art at Split Rock. Walking up was hot, steep high steps, all to see these ancient paintings on the rocks in caves, but so so worthwhile. The Quinkans by the way are the spirit people. The interpretive signs were great, as we didn’t have time to go with a guide.

    So off we headed, a long slow 139km to Musgrave without enough power to use the a/c, so open windows and dust was our lot. At 5.00pm we set up camp in a big paddock behind the old Musgrave telegraph station – it was actually good there. Almost full moon, clear starry sky, warm, quiet, showers & loo nearby. Stocked up on one bottle of wine and $7 bottle of milk. (Wine $30)

    Mareeba next before going down to Cairns. Mareeba campsite was run by a German couple, who George seems to attract. In the morning she came over with cup cakes for his 79th birthday.

    Sadly, farewelled our travelling buddies for the past month…might see them again in WA!

    Cairns – a time to regroup for us, maintenance on the car, wash clothes and sheets and car and Swifty. Catch up on calls to family, get out this blog using the caravan park internet. The Rhodes are doing their own car maintenance in Atherton. Nights with tropical rain, days with humidity…gotta love Cairns!

    Thanks for reading all 3 blogs, if you did! Who knows where we are going next…westwards anyway.

    Love & cheers. Am loving your comments.
    Jen & Nick

  • Pajinka and Thursday Island.

    Cape York. Part 2 June 4th 2023

    Pushing on, feeling like the Cape is coming to a point. We’d heard that the Jardine river ferry had broken down and people had waited 4 hours to cross over the fast flowing river. So we packed a thermos and snacks in preparation. The hardest part to crossing over was paying the huge toll..$192 return! Never mind, we were a captive audience and I was happy to pay the cheery local boys to run the ferry. Otherwise we would never make it to the tip.

    Not many cars waiting, we crossed at 10.30am and were told it was being shutdown at 11.00am so the oil covered mechanic could take off the head of the Lister engine. It was only running on 2 of 3 cylinders. 

    We stopped short of Seisia to do an alcohol check. The communities are fairly strict regarding alcohol although the tourists can carry a minimal amount.

    We continued to Seisia camping ground, a delightfully tropical place on the far north-west coast. Our 3 sites were almost on the beach. With a G&T in hand sitting in our camp chairs on the fine white sand watching a spectacular sunset, what more could anyone want!

    The gang.

    Dinner at Loyalty Beach was quite disappointing – tough prawns & rubber mackerel fish. The setting was great but the food wasn’t.

    The BIG DAY dawned, the day we reach the Tip of Pajinka. The drive from Seisia was not direct, Nick and Andrew found the short cut over a pretty deep river crossing. We were seasoned rough trackers by now. Even the many potholes and deep water crossings didn’t phase us. 

    We got to the Tip carpark and saw many vehicles…ohh.. We started the 800m walk along the beach flats, past mangroves, in slightly slippery mud until we began to climb the rocks, through the scrub, like a bunch of pioneers. Suddenly there it was, a sign on a pole with a couple of people taking photos. It was perhaps a little underwhelming. I was expecting vast oceans of nothingness beyond the tip, but there were islands everywhere, very close, a yacht sailing past. 

    Nick broke out our rainbow Priscilla, and had a few strange looks from people – “was this man coming out?” After the mandatory photos, we took the inland walking track back to the carpark, climbing to the top of the rocky promontory where the views were 360 degrees, amazing. Three rock cairns signalled the path. The last cairns I’d seen were in Mongolia where their spiritual significance was powerful. Every Mongolian who encountered one would walk around it 3 times and give thanks to the gods. Not sure this was the case here, although I wouldn’t be surprised if the indigenous people didn’t assign power to a pile of rocks.

    We pre-planned a special lunch to mark our arrival at the tip. A bottle of Prosecco to toast our achievement, followed by lunch – san chow bau – lettuce filled with tuna, egg and spices, followed by a welcome cuppa. This is the joy of travelling with friends, the way we throw a little feast together. Many travellers saw us with envy in their eyes – it was a long way to a shop of any kind. The Croc Tent was down the road – a crass okka bogan tourist trap with no food.

    We wound down this wonderful day with fish fillets given to us by a local fisherman.

    The local people around Seisia are very much a mix of Thursday Islanders, Papuans, Polynesians and Aust Aborigines, and all very friendly. 

    A day trip to Thursday Island was something I had never even dreamed of doing. I love being on the sea, loved the hour long ferry trip through the Torres Strait islands, of which there are many. I had no idea Thursday Island was so small compared to others nearby, but it was chosen for it’s protected harbour. We joined a bus tour on Thurs island and learned about the WW2 effort, the influence of the Japanese both as pearlers and ultimately as invaders. Life was tough for TI people, especially the women during the war. Boats bringing food supplies were bombed, the land was too rocky to grow much, although mangoes were in abundance. 

    We visited the Cultural Centre which was being set up for the bi-annual festival of dance, music and celebrations of reconciliation, but it was the following week, damn pity we missed it! The paintings in the gallery showed a combination of styles…the dots of the indigenous people and the bright splashes of colours from the TI artists. The weavings with natural fibres, and the use of marine flotsam to make 3D sculptures were quite clever. I came away with some earrings made by a local that look like white birds from Paradise – I guess that’s what they were!

    We lunched at the northern most pub in Australia, and it was good. Cold beers and yummy burgers. Locals with their families, cute little kids, some amazing characters, as you can see in the photo of George, behind him.

    Walking along the main street after lunch, we 3 girls were drawn into a very colourful dress shop…we each brought 2 frocks. Marilyn did an instant nip and tuck job on mine, she’s a whizz with cotton and thread. It’s nice having the breeze around the legs and other parts in a frock.

    Blog 3 will soon be done.

    Cheers

    Jenny xx

  • Cairns, Crocs, Covid.

    The Daintree, Magnetic Island, Mission Beach

    May 18th 2023

    Travelling from Groper Creek we headed the fairly short distance to Townsville. 

    I had requested we visit Magnetic Island. Way back in my younger days, probably 1978ish, I had travelled up the east coast with my ex and our 2 little girls, stopping off to visit communities of interest and random friends. We stayed with 2 hippie friends at their house at Horseshoe Bay. Both were marine biologists. My strongest memory is of the girls and I walking along the beach collecting hermit crabs. Our friends had a LARGE salt water tank in their primitive shack with a spectacular collection of fish, crabs, corals, and more. It opened my insular Melbourne-centric eyes to the wonders of the reef. I remember walking along a narrow track to the white sandy beach and crystal blue sea. It became an idyllic stopping point on our travels back then.

    Anyway, suffice to say, what I saw there now was nothing like my memories, but it still had an undeniable laid-back, somewhat alternative feel despite the chic new shops and accommodation that line the street facing the sea. Expensive yachts and cabin cruisers were moored just off-shore. As I sat under the enormous fig tree, watching the sea, I overheard the group of salty bedraggled boaties, who were sitting at a table near me, discussing engines, mechanical stuff and using “start you bastard” with little effect. Ah, I thought, there’s still blokes just sitting and chatting about nothing.

    We found an excellent cafe for lunch on Magnetic Island, a “modern” backpackers trendy hideout, mostly populated with Europeans, but all looking “cool” in their own way…with flared pants, chai almond milk lattes, dreadlocks, crocheted bikinis and birkenstocks. The lunch was delicious, we later found out the chef had recently worked at the Farm at Ewingsdale.

    We had a very cheap day out at Magnetic Island. Being Seniors has its rewards. The ferry was $20 return and our bus tickets for the whole day anywhere around the island were $2.40 each. The landscape was rocky, lush with vegetation, vivid green and the charming houses were tucked into lush overgrown gardens. I liked the slow development it has made over the past 45 years. If only other places would change slowly.

    We’d been told not to miss Wallaman Falls, the highest single drop waterfall in Australia, 268 meters. Located in a UNESCO World Heritage site in Girringun National Park. So after a delicious morning tea in Ingham, we unhitched our vans in the car park behind the Visitor Centre and headed up the steep winding climb. It was pretty spectacular. But the best thrill while driving back, was coming across a Cassowary sauntering across the road. Majestic big bird.

    South Mission Beach caravan park was our next destination. I have very few pictures from here. We lived in a tropical rain event each night here, where getting up to go to the toilet at night meant wading ankle deep through water. Apart from restocking the fridge and getting coffee, we didn’t do much there. Tully was a short drive away. This is the wettest place in Qld and the home of the Big Boot. That boot is as high as the biggest flood, 7.9mtrs, in 1950. Tully has a working sugar mill which belched smoke over the area. Sadly the town had many empty shops and felt a bit depressed. Maybe when the sugar milling season gets into full swing the town will come to life. We often had visits from the resident Cassowary in the caravan park. One evening at drinkies, he came purposely up behind me, eyeing off the tub of olives. Whoa, he has big gnarly claws and needed to be stopped. Holding up a camp chair as a shield stopped a nasty disaster.

    Cairns. I had started feeling a bit off, so tested for covid..positive. Damn. I suspect I got it on the bus in Magnetic island. You know how sometimes you have a premonition…I thought at the time, I should have a mask on. Anyway, the plan to stay 4 nights in Cairns proved a good chance for me, and then Nick too, to weather covid. No need to isolate anymore, so off we went to the Aquarium one day and the historic train to Kuranda the next day. 

    Both the tourist train and the Aquarium were easy pleasant activities for old and infirmed people. We still feel we are ahead of the mob, there just are not a lot of tourists around. We also loved strolling through the Botanic Gardens which are beautifully laid out with amazing plants.

    Our campsite in Cairns was particularly good, compared to the others at the park. We were located on a grassy bend in the local river, the spot where turtles can be fed and fishes of many varieties gather for a look at the humans, even eels and a large barra. We had a concrete pad ideal for evening drinks overlooking the river under some wonderful trees.

    Campsite by the river.

    It was time to move on though, we decided to book a camp at Wonga Beach, then radiate out from there for a couple of days, mainly north to the Daintree. We managed to find a storage shed for the 3 kayaks and 3 bicycles, which will make travelling so much more convenient up north. Nick had always wanted to see a sugar train, he was in luck as we drove along the highway there was one chugging along, probably checking on the tracks before the season starts in June.

    After a quick visit to trendy Palm Cove, we stopped in Port Douglas for lunch at the Marina, also pretty trendy. Wonga caravan park is nice and simple, on the beach front, under large trees many of which drop big nuts constantly, nuts like macadamias. The coconuts hanging high in the nearby trees look a bit threatening. The extreme humidity we felt a day or 2 ago has gone and now it is relatively cool, minimums of around 23.

    It was mentioned that there was a good swimming hole at Mason’s store. So off we headed one day to do our Daintree Rainforest and Bloomfield track exploration. The ferry over the Daintree river took us to the World Heritage listed park. It was amazing. Towering palms, massive Melaleucas, figs, strangler vines, mangroves, an earthly garden that has taken centuries to grow, that is a wonder beyond description. My pictures can never do it justice. A stroll along Madja’s Botanical boardwalk was well worth it. Then I took a swim for the team at Mason’s Store. Soooo refreshing, crystal clear chilly water.

    We took lunch at Cape Tribulation. I decided to get us a healthy lunch…vegan panini and a green boost juice. Not sure Nick was impressed. The challenge of the Bloomfield track has always been there for 4WD drivers, so off we headed to ford the rivers and climb the steep tracks, sometimes 30% gradient, which tested us and we couldn’t have towed Swifty that way. But we got to the Bloomfield river, wandered through the indigenous gallery then turned around for the 2 hour journey back to camp.

    Today we did a very peaceful cruise on an electric boat up the Daintree to find crocodiles….we found quite a few. The commentary was very good, it was a tour well worth doing.

    Tomorrow (friday 19th May) we head off to Cooktown. I have been reading up on the history but I am looking forward to visiting the museum and getting a sense of the place.

    Cheers Everyone

    Jenny & Nick

  • Stalled…

    August 3rd 2021. Lennox Head, Bundjalung country.

    Here we are still, stuck at the starting post, all dressed up with no-where to go. We wanted to leave next week. I always knew we had to expect the unexpected, and flexibility was important, but now I find I am shut in at home, isolating because I visited Brisbane last week. Our NSW/Gold Coast bubble is suffering from it’s close proximity to Brisbane where the Delta strain of covid cases is running amuck through the community.

    But I don’t want this blog to be a whinge. It inevitably has to reflect the state of play in our nation, but I am determined to look for the positives and write an uplifting piece.

    So, Swifty sits over-lighted by a brilliant rainbow, in the front garden. She is ready for the big adventure, as are we.

    All borders out of NSW are closed to us. Our aim to reach Victoria by early September looks doubtful, but if a miracle happens, we’ll hook up and get there. Heading south is still our aim, then west to WA. That border seems impenetrable at the moment, but we live in hope.

    In the meantime, we love and enjoy where we live, which truely is paradise. Daily walks along the coastal paths are blessed with whale sitings. The air is feeling more Spring-like. We currently have the Tokyo Olympics to keep us amused if need be and there are plenty of good books to read. Enjoying the company of a few friends, no more than five at a time, lifts our spirits. Cafes and restaurants still make scrumptious food, the shops, cinemas and galleries are open to us, as long as we are masked, sanitised and QR coded. How lucky are we!!

    View north up the coast with Cape Byron in the distance.

    But sitting around wallowing in our lucky life isn’t as satisfying as people imagine, especially when you’ve had plans and they get thwarted. Mind you, I don’t know anyone who hasn’t had to sacrifice a longed for trip…overseas and in Australia. The amount of travel credits tucked into the travel agent’s drawers, must be enormous. Equally, how many of us are now writing off those credits as too hard to fulfil. And now, making future plans seems too risky.

    So we decided on a whim, while we could do it, that we’d hook on Swifty and head for the closest National Park for a few days in the bush. Three other couples joined us.

    BUNDJALUNG NATIONAL PARK. Black Rocks campground & Jerusalem Creek.

    By the saturday morning, we’d gathered food and friends, and headed down the highway, meeting at New Italy for morning tea. The forecast was lovely, the sky was a deep blue and our spirits were high. Arriving at Black Rocks along the Gap Road gravel track, we saw a bushland full of grass-trees, their tall seedy spikes towering above the scrub, their fine leafy skirts and black charred stumps surrounded by banksias, wattles and small flowering shrubs. This was my type of country. I needed to immerse in a flowering, regenerating wilderness, much of it recovering sensationally after the 2019 bushfires. Looking deeper into the scrub, small wildflowers showed themselves, especially the vibrant purple chocolate lilies, named because of their scent, not their taste.

    The camping ground is tucked behind the sand dunes in such dense bush that you could barely see your closest neighbours. But they could be heard. Saturday night was rich with drumming sounds from the many European/South American young people who had gathered to camp together. They respectfully stopped well before midnight. How enjoyable to listen to live music instead of ghetto blasters. On sunday morning they packed up the white vans with their yoga mats, drums, tents and mattresses, leaving no traces of their beautiful night.

    We launched our 8 kayaks into Jerusalem Creek early, before the wind rippled the water and the sun became too hot. It was a glorious 9.2km paddle to the mouth of the creek, where we beached the boats. Thermos’ of tea and homemade cake filled our bellies and souls as we sat perched on a wooden seat overlooking the crystalline topaz blue ocean. It’s the simplest things that are the most enjoyable. And laughing with friends, sharing a campfire, a meal and a few drinks tops off the experience.

    Launch spot at Jerusalem creek.

    Plans were made for the next couple of days. More kayaking at another National Park further south. But by mid-afternoon on sunday, the unexpected happened. Queensland had lost control of it’s covid outbreaks, locking the border and requiring those who’d been there in the past 2 weeks to go into isolation. There were some of us who’d been there recently, visiting grandchildren, taking medical appointments. This camp was dismantling already. By sunday night, only 4 of us were left. Slowly we packed up Swifty on monday morning, feeling a bit deflated, but also invigorated by the 2 days we had managed to grab out of this mess called a pandemic.

    Andrew said to me at the camp: “Can you see how your blog will become a record of the pandemic?” I know he’s right, there’s a sense that our journey, in the early stages at least, will be stop/start, with unforeseen adjustments needing to be made constantly to meet the vagaries of this pandemic.

    Don’t even ask about renting out our house. That’s another stalled episode. It will happen but we don’t know when.

    Who can even guess what the next blog will bring.

    Until then, stay safe everyone.. get vaccinated.. see you soon WA family, we hope.

    Jenny & Nick & Swifty.

  • Haven’t you gone yet?

    July 3rd 2021. Still in Bundjalung Country, at Lennox Head.

    Some friends get confused, easily. They must skim over the blog, presume I’ve left Lennox, then get a shock when I reappear.

    By the way, I have written more under the heading Portraiture which you can see in the menu. It gives some of my thoughts about portrait photography.

    We’re not leaving for another month, but it will be a busy one. Already finding that packing up the house to rent it out is a far bigger chore than I thought. After 11 years of accumulated stuff rises to the surface, I am faced with the inevitable question, keep it or toss it? Be brutal, I’m told, make a fresh start, clear the dross, lighten the load, all great mantras, but for the hoarder of memories and memorabilia, this is not easy.

    I started in my studio/office, only to discover diaries from my teenage years, travel diaries from the 1970’s, aerograms, letters and postcards from another era, slides, photos and negatives, so many memories. Of course they all had to be read, relived, and marvelled at. Hours, days, passed, in fact after a month, still my office was not cleared out. 3 days were spent with a new shredder, tax documents from the ’90’s had to go. Not wanting to waste the bonus of now having a mountain of finely shredded paper, I tossed it onto the compost. Of course, 2 days later the dreaded bush turkey had added his spin to my recycling effort by spreading the shredded paper all over my lawn and garden. It looked like snow.

    Nick’s task of creating space in the garage for 2 tenant’s cars has been a far more onerous task than I faced; a much dirtier job with more stuff than anyone, but an ardent car restorer, could ever imagine. Soon, the little 1953 Series 1 Land Rover will be re-housed in a friend’s shed, the BMW motorbike will squeeze into the back of the garage amongst the boxes of stored things, and my car will take a holiday with a friend, who will keep the hybrid battery charged.

    The garden is not being forgotten. The trees and shrubs are being pruned heavily. Tip runs are a weekly job, bins are stuffed to the hilt. Areas which had been ignored since we moved here 11 years ago have been tackled. A magnificent blue tongue lizard has resided in some old hidden agi pipe for many years in a difficult part of the garden. She came out to greet us briefly, then slid back into her pipe. We will leave her in peace and hope to see her again when we return.

    Precious items are being given to friends and family to mind. Potted plants, an old clock and lamp from my grandfather’s house at Wye River, my jewels (of which there are almost none), and a nest, have all been taken into care. My friend who collects nests was thoroughly overjoyed to babysit mine for 12 months.

    We are witness to a society being buffeted by climate challenges, a covid pandemic, uncertainty, family disruption and separation, heightened fears of all sorts and the mental health stress born by so many people. It is going to be interesting to see what forces push and pull us as we travel around. No doubt many weather factors will impact us, we are prepared for that. And covid issues too might demand we stop at borders. Both of us will be fully vaccinated when we leave. And we will look after each other. I’ll certainly let Nick know if his mental health needs attention……..

    I’ve been reading a wonderful little book in preparation for the trip. It’s called “Wise Women of the Dreamtime” Aboriginal Tales of the Ancestral Powers. Collected by K. Langloh Parker at the turn of the 19th Century. She was one of the first European women to see the significance and spiritual sophisitication of the Aboriginal tribal stories. This book was given to me by my mother, a gift I now gracefully accept.

    I took 3 grandsons on a whale watching trip out of Ballina on a glorious sunny winter day in late June. This was a little parting gift for them. Their birthdays will go by without us being around. Tom (10), James (almost 12) and Jeremy (20) escorted me into the Pacific Ocean where whales were everywhere to be seen. James loved the spray off the boat as we sped over the waves. Tom was masquerading as Al Capone.

    It’s terrific to have so many people coming away with me. I can’t wait to get on the road now. Do keep the comments coming, they brighten my day.

    Best wishes

    Jenny