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.
Sitting patiently crossing the JardineBoarding the ferryAndy & Marilyn
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.
Convoy stop.
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!
View from our campsiteHorses roam freely, sometimes being a nuisance.Spectacular sunsetThe gang.
Dinner at Loyalty Beach was quite disappointing – tough prawns & rubber mackerel fish. The setting was great but the food wasn’t.
Dinner at Loyalty BeachLoyalty BeachPalm Cockatoo
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.
Mangroves on the beachGeorge & Julie, the tip in the distance
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.
Walking over the high ground CairnLunch & bubbles
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.
“Resort” at the tip Driving through the forest
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!
TI military museumLunch spotGeorge and friend
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.
(Note : I’ve divided the blogs for Cape York into 3 parts, otherwise one would be far too long. So look out for parts 2 & 3 soon. I now have internet, we’re back in Cairns.)
Map of Cape York
I am starting to write this blog from a pretty remote spot, nearly at the top of Queensland, just 100km short of the tip. It is mild, warm and extremely pleasant. We’re camping at Eliot Falls in the Jardine National Park, Heathlands Regional Park you can see on the map above. The travelling to get here has been memorable, but I won’t get ahead of myself, let’s go back to when we left Wonga Beach campsite, back on May 18th.
Accessing the Daintree was an awesome thing to do, maybe one day I’ll come back and stay longer to soak in the ambience of the lush tropical natural environment. Last of the wet tropics. But this trip keeps pushing us onwards and upwards.
The drive to Cooktown was through some very hilly country, the most northern spur of the Great Dividing Range. Farms with bananas stretching for acres was a common site as well as paddocks with Brahmin cows of all colours and sizes, many with enormous horns. There was a fair amount of smoke in the air due to the slow burning grasses. The grasses themselves were so pretty, tall seed heads of pinks, burgundy, oranges with white trunked gums overhead with bushy crowns of leaves. You felt there had to have been a lot of water around to make such lush growth.
Colourful grassesGreat Dividing Range country
Coming into Cooktown mid afternoon, we settled for a delightful caravan park just near the centre of town. After a quick setup we explored the main street and foreshore area and stocked up at the IGA.
In the morning we rose early to see sunrise from Grassy Hill where the lighthouse is. This Hill is where Cook climbed to survey the land, while his men were mapping the coast and mending his marooned boat. He decided it was a good place for a brief visit, although the local xxx people already knew this was a perfect place to be. The Cooktown museum was particularly interesting, housed in what was the Convent school, built in 1889. The mix of displays, from a very comprehensive Indigenous history, to the gold mining history, Chinese history, to Cook’s arrival history and the convent’s history, meant that we staggered out of there overwhelmed by knowledge that probably most of us can’t remember now. My take away was the video of a local tribal woman explaining how the lore of the area decreed that no blood be lost in fighting of any sort and because of that Cook and his men survived…a very powerful comment.
I love going to Botanic gardens, and in Cooktown, there is one of the oldest in Australia, established in 1878. There were some very impressive coastal paperbarks amongst some other big trees I couldn’t recognise. One labelled tree was a massive Teak, showing the link to the Orient or perhaps the Indian sub-continent. Strolling amongst massive sentinels from the past makes us feel grateful to those who planted the trees and those who have tended them for so long. There was a Botanical art exhibition in Nature’s Powerhouse, a gallery located in the gardens. There were etchings from specimens of plants collected by Banks and Solander on their voyage, as well as some framed pressed leaves from Banks’ collection, out of storage from the Melbourne Herbarium.
Cooktown sunsetCooktownCooktownView from Grassy Hill at sunriseFrom Grassy HillEyes in a massive Melaleuca
By dinner time we were flagging. The mobile fish van had passed through the park so we enjoyed a pre-dinner feed of prawns. For dinner this night we enjoyed Thai at Jacky Jacky’s, a shop built originally there in 1886, another reflection on the influence of the quite large Chinese population in Cooktown. The richness and diversity of Cooktown’s history needed more time, as with other places on this trip..hmm..another trip another time.
Off we set further north, with Laura being the first stop. It was May 22nd. There was quite a sombre air to this town, the well respected Publican had been taken by a croc the previous week, so the pub was closed and flowers were laid by a tree. Our stay here was brief. We expected the Peninsula Development Road to be gravel from Laura onwards, but actually I would estimate half of the road up is bitumen, and the gravelly red earth part was mostly smooth, very few corrugations, a lot of dips with some being water crossings, but generally a very easy ride. We ended this day at Coen.
Laura then CoenMusgrave Telegraph station
Fuel has been getting progressively more expensive, like $1.85, but it was only in Laura that it cost more than Lennox prices. $2.50! It is outrageous what Northern rivers drivers pay for fuel. We’ve found diesel in Weipa today for $2.18.
The Coen pub served refreshing cold beer, most welcome by us all. The grassy area behind the pub sufficed for the night. We aimed for Bramwell Station the next day, but because we made such good progress we pushed on. At Moreton Telegraph Station we stopped for coffee and decided we would stay the night at Eliot Falls. Being a National Park we needed to book 3 sites. Well, anyone who has ever tried booking anything with Qld Nat Parks will know how frustrating the process can be on their website. Anyway, we sat with it and found Wendy at the coffee stop was very helpful, even gave us our official passes to show a ranger, if he happened to turn up.
Palm Cockatoo on the logo
There’s a road up here called the Old Telegraph Line. It is legendary for 4WD extremists, it is so profoundly difficult that only the hardy types take it, and certainly not with trailers on the back. So we took the Bamaga road which by-passes that rough one, until we were 8km from our camping destination at Eliot Falls. OMG, it was rough and tricky in spots, very slow to travel. But all 3 of us managed with our trusty trailers to get there with cars and vans intact. “Towing” signs with mobile numbers were prominently posted in a couple of trees at the beginning of the track.
Andy & MarilynGeorge & JulieThrough the narrow gapNick & JenAlong the Old Telegraph TrackTackling the OTT
Eliot Falls was so worth it. Peace, serenity. And wonderful falls to wallow in…until the families arrived with many kids, tinnies in coolers and a ghetto blaster. No respect for that place. The night time was very special – no light pollution, no wind, a bright half moon with Venus nearby, the families departed. The lack of birds was noticeable, inexplicable.
All vehicles and vans have performed remarkably. And they’ve certainly been put through their paces. We rise early each day, go to bed soon after sunset, a great pattern to fall into.
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.
Horseshoe Bay coffee spot.Horseshoe BayHorseshoe Bay beachOld Fig trees Foreshore walk
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.
Wallaman Falls
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.
Cassowary
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.
Stone CurlewBig Boot in TullySpot the Cassowary
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.
Train EnginesPassing a waterfallOld carriages and passengers.
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.
Forest vineEnormous fan palmsFig roots and mangroves
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.
What’s this green stuff, Jen?
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.
Daintree where the rainforest meets the sea.Wonga Beach in the morning.
April 24th, it was a Monday in 2023. We dropped off “Bond”, a 1953 Land Rover Nick had restored from scratch, at Andrew’s big garage in Ballina. All the chores were completed.
By 11.00 we were waving goodbye to Sam, Noah & little Isla, our house minders for the next 12 months, as we hauled all our travelling possessions including 2 kayaks and 2 bikes off the nature strip and on our way.
Buderim on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast, was the first stop, with our long time friends John and Annie. They had demolished the original house we saw in 2020 and were now the proud owners of a new house, fitting in perfectly with the neighbourhood’s other beautiful homes. AFL footy took up an afternoon and a night, you can’t take the footy out of a bunch of Melburnians.
A tour of the nearby hills, visiting Nambour, the ginger factory, and the Nuthouse occupied day 3. Dinner at a lovely street food style restaurant in Mooloolooba rounded out our time in Buderim. Many laughs, chats, car repairs, and delicious meals completed a terrific stay.
Following a leak.
But it was time to get on the road and be the grey nomads we were aspiring to be…well, I’m not grey but I certainly feel like a nomad now, being homeless except for Swifty, our tiny pop-up camper, who serves us so well through the all weathers and terrains we have to face.
Out of the 1st bog.Gorgeous BanksiasTucked behind the beachSunrise at Burrum Coast NP, Kinkuna beach.
Firstly a few nights at Burrum Coast National Park, situated on Hervey Bay about an hour south of Bundaberg. On a fairly short, very sandy approach road to the campsites we got horribly bogged up to the axles. We should have deflated the tyres earlier as we knew sand was expected. Tyres down, off we set only to become even more bogged just 100 meters further down the sandy track. So deflated the tyres even more…12psi on Swifty, 15psi on the car all round, plus much digging and the trusty orange max trax under the back wheels and made another attempt. Gained 10 meters this time. More digging, more revs and finally we hit solid ground and got out…but where were the maxs’? Buried deep. That delay took more than an hour, but was rewarded with a stunning campsite right on the water’s edge. Little did we realise the loud crashing sound waves make on the shore so close to us. During the night the 2.3m tide sounded like it was under the van. Fortunately the gale winds had gone, but I was adamant I couldn’t do a second and third night with such a noise.
The next morning was glorious, sea calm, tide out…perfect, but we decided to move on, get a good night’s sleep. The car and Swifty performed exceptionally coming out of the sandy campsite, much to the surprise of both of us.
Next was Elliott Heads, a small seaside town 15kms from Bundaberg. Surrounded by campers in the park, we enjoyed the showers to get our dark grey sandy feet clean again. And there is just the faint murmur of the sea in the distance. I could live with that.
We stayed in Elliott Heads for 5 days and thoroughly enjoyed it. Cycled around the streets looking for the centre of town, which didn’t exist. There’s a bowlo and a general store. Near the campground was Driftwood Cafe which served fish & chips and coffee, and had multiple empty shelves which could have supplied campers with basic needs. They had one bottle of milk and 3 boxes of Shapes along with the newspapers. A big opportunity wasted there.
Elliott River Peddling my HobieMaking Espresso coffeeElliott Heads beach
Had a beautiful morning in the kayaks on Elliott river. The massive tides just about grounded my boat. I struck a couple of sandbanks with my peddles, which weren’t there when we set off, as I ventured back to the launching ramp.
On day 4 our friends Marilyn and Andrew arrived. We visited the Bundy Rum factory with them and did an excellent tour. The boys know the recipe to make Dark & Stormy now, and have enough bottles of rum to last quite a long time. Later we headed straight to the Botanic Gardens for lunch and to see Bert Hinkler’s house and museum with his 1920’s Avro Avian plane. It was well worth the visit.
You will notice a rainbow flag appears now and then in photos. It was a parting gift from Neil & Erica Holland. We had used it years ago when crossing the Simpson Desert. It comes out at random times for no apparent reason, although sometimes it is used in unimaginable ways. Of course it’s called Priscilla.
But it was time to move on, so next morning, after the usual beach walk starter followed by breakfast, we dismantled the camp and headed north. We girls had made the observation that at every toilet stop or camp site, the girls were always at the far end. The boys laughed at us disbelieving our theory. So now there is a running tab. Girls theory has proven true so far. Just another example of male dominance!
We didn’t realise what a long day we had ahead. We headed out of Bundaberg at a reasonable time but didn’t reach Yeppoon until 5.00pm. We did a detour via Agnes Waters and 1770, both very interesting and a lovely lunch stop at 1770, but by 1.30pm we still had 3 1/2 hours to get to Yeppoon. The countryside was dry, scrubby, a bit uninteresting. On the way I realised I’d lost my Mastercard – my own silly fault. Fell out of my phone case while I was taking a photo. Inconvenient but not too much of a concern. Then, for no apparent reason, my carseat started to sink. Nick’s did the same years ago somewhere remote near Uluru. Oh well, it’s not the end of the earth, I can still see out of the window…
With my niece Bree & NickThe Singing ShipAmongst the cruisersYeppoon lagoonHistoric lookout
Crossed the Tropic of Capricorn.
Battled through peak hour at Rockhampton, pulled into Beachside Caravan Park in Yeppoon at a few minutes to 5, just as they were shutting. We were all stuffed.
A good sleep later, we decided to stay an extra day in Yeppoon. Met up with my niece for coffee at the Marina. So lovely to chat with a local & Bree showed us some pretty amazing very expensive cruisers belonging to her friends, moored in the harbour. Later, we took ourselves on a sightseeing drive, saw the Singing Ship, and great views across to Great Keppell Island. The history of Cook’s sailing through the waters of these islands is very well documented, even though our senior brains couldn’t retain much of the details.
I love the detail on this plaque, it is rather poignant as a reflection of how the British felt a new colony should be.
Marilyn and I decided we would swim in the Yeppoon Lagoon, a man-made pool, free to anyone, built by the local council. Probably because the sea was a bit brown and crocs could be lurking. But the swim was refreshing albeit very cold.
Onwards northward. After a delightful morning tea at Mackay Botanic Gardens cafe we headed north through fairly dry mundane country. Scrubby bush, paper bark trees, small settlements with a rundown pub, derelict cars and not much more was typical of the scenery. We chose tonight’s destination on a whim, and it proved to be a winner. Cape Palmerston Tourist Park was located on a dusty back road in an isolated part of the Capricornia coast. Crocodile country. Arriving at a basic reception/supplies area, adorned with photos of mostly men holding big fish or crabs, a freezer of frozen white sliced bread, multiple travel brochures spread across the tables and the usual collection of odd books people had donated to future customers, the weather-worn lady welcomed us into her cool office. The drone views of the park looked a bit ordinary, so we had low expectations of this campground. We wanted unpowered, so were sent down to a large grassy area that resembled a botanic garden’s lawn area more than a camp site. Enormous eucalypts hosted a good range of birds, kangaroos grazed nearby, the bush turkey’s annoyed us as is their way, but it was peaceful. The beach was walking distance and the bathroom facilities were excellent. With an almost full moon, it was perfect, except for the dreaded midges, which had plagued us most of the trip north.
Nick on the sandflat showing the huge tide.Campsite – peaceful
We thought a drop into Airlie Beach and Shute Harbour should be part of our itinerary. We chose to camp at Proserpine, 20 minutes west of Airlie, in a rather downmarket caravan park. Being the King’s Coronation night, we thought dinner at the Prince of Wales pub was a good choice, and quiche was on the menu. Alas, the staff there had made no connection to the significance of the name of their pub and were vaguely disinterested in our suggestion that the quiche could be called Coronation quiche. So we all settled for Red Emperor and chips…delicious.
Back at camp we managed to hook up the iPad to the ABC iview telecast. Sat under the stars, balmy night, full moon, listening to the glorious choral music and watching the pageantry that can only ever be seen in the UK, as King Charles 111 & Camilla became King and Queen.
Ever onwards, next day we headed a short distance north to a remote fishing village called Groper Creek. Crocodile country now. The scenery has become far more interesting with the dark green sugar ready for harvesting and the mountain ranges jutting up in the distance. Not many camper vans on the journey so far, and getting a site each night has been easy. Groper Creek mosquitoes killed us, biting our legs arms and faces, adding to the welts we already had from midges. Really, you need a tinny and a rod to blend in at Groper Creek, and we had neither. We heard a large croc had been caught just near where we camped…urgh!
Sugarcane Groper Creek campGroper Creek houses on polesMoon rise on Groper Creek
I will stop now, that’s plenty for one blog. We’ve only been away for two and a half weeks. It feels like we’ve driven long distances, probably missing lots of sights we shouldn’t, but at least we’ve reached FNQ and escaped the chilly blast our NSW & Vic families are experiencing. Here at Mission Beach we feel the crowds haven’t arrived yet. There isn’t a continuous stream of vans on the highway. The locals here say June will be busy.
Next blog will include a trip to Magnetic Island…..and we’ll also be venturing up the Cape to the tip. Some photos are Andrew’s, thanks mate.
Love to get your feedback. Hope you’ve enjoyed this blog.
The last post was published in August 2021, with the sad news that we’d abandoned the trip completely. We had become victims to Covid regulations which closed borders and instilled fear in everyone that travelling would be risky, that the virus would spread wildly and that it was best to stay home. So we did.
Now, 17 months later, we are looking at a fresh start. And still there is the possibility that our plans will be thwarted due to floods in the Gulf of Carpentaria at the moment, and earlier floods in the Kimberly around Fitzroy Crossing. I saw an interview with the Mayor of Burketown in the Gulf, where major inundation is occurring, and he said that as soon as the water subsides there will be amazing wildlife to see and the wildflowers should be stunning. He was encouraging travellers not to abandon the area during the dry season, and of course we want to support all those remote communities if we can.
My grand daughter Sarah is now working in Fitzroy Crossing as a remote area nurse, so we should be able to get local updates from her.
As you will see, our plan now is to head north from Lennox Head first, get to the tip of Cape York in Qld. Two couples will be joining us on that leg of the journey..Marilyn and Andrew Jeavons and George and Julie Rhodes…good friends who travel well at our pace, are flexible, independent, great fun and love adventures. In Cairns we will join up with Mike Meyers and his friend Steve to continue to the Cape. This first leg will take all of May and half of June we expect. After the Cape, we will be on our own probably…but our flexible friends could change their minds.
Might as well not get too far ahead of ourselves on this blog though. There are some plan B’s being considered if we fail to cross the Gulf. We won’t even go there.
Our house sitters are about to leave Karratha. In 3 weeks time they expect to be at Lennox….that’s an almighty journey with a 9 year old and a 14 month old…and 2 dogs. One dog is being left in Perth, the other in Melbourne, until such time as their owners find a suitable house with a yard and a fence. So we are not doing the full house pack up thankfully although much still needs to be done to prepare for 12 months away and to give the sitters an easy house to live in. Pablo pictured here is a fine addition to our house, along with 4 chickens.
I have done this blog so that I can re-awaken my brain about how to actually navigate WordPress, but also to give those of you on the subscribers list a chance to drop away if you want to. I will be attempting to post to your email once a month if I can, so it shouldn’t be too annoying.
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.
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.
Some of my shells & precious stuff!
The office
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.
In just 2 months from now my husband, Nick, and I will head south in our little camper van. The van will henceforth be fondly named Swifty. She will provide us shelter most nights for the next 12 months. Swifty is also our supply carrier, wardrobe, ensuite (minus the toilet and shower), lounge room, kitchen and dressing room. She is all of 5 metres long.
Slowly we will wander down to Wangaratta in Victoria for the first big stopover. This will be early September. Friends and family will join us here in a ritual of days of copious food, drinks, cakes, games, activities and celebration.
Then we’ll recover with a wander along the Murray River, into South Australia provided the border is open. After exploring the Eyre Peninsular, Swifty will have her first experience of the Nullarbor. In November we will put down roots in Margaret River in WA for another celebration, then head further south to Albany for the summer. But that’s not even half of the trip.
I plan to take the usual quantity of photos (many!!), perhaps take a few movies, and write about the trip in this blog. But I also plan to do a portraiture/story board project about interesting characters we meet along the way. I want to capture a single, simple, revealing, beautiful portrait of the person, or it could be a couple or family group, and write a paragraph with their story. It’s about time I used my qualification and years of experience as a Portraitist. This I will post on my blog with their permission. It will become a snapshot portfolio of Australians in 2021/2.
Nick having breakfast at Lake Hart with Swifty, previous trip in 2018.
I will endeavour to use the local indigenous name for the land we travel on as I write the blog.
So if you want to follow our journey, add your email to the list.
COME AWAY WITH ME 