Heading for coastal hedonism

The climb down from the Blackdown Tableland to Dingo, as with the climb up, was a low range affair taking about 20 minutes. The change in vegetation was obvious, as were the kangaroos and wallabies that don’t inhabit the high ground behind us. The plan was to head for the coast and prepare for our Hamilton Island stay with Barry by working our way northwards through the sugar cane country that extends all the way up to the Daintree north of Cairns. We emerged from over the Connor Range where we were fortunate to see some cattle mustering by helicopter on the road in front of us. Magnificent flying. It was a bit like negotiating with the other driver with his caravan and seeing if you can anticipate his next move, except this was three dimensional.

St Lawrence on the coast, touted in the regional literature as a haven, was a very marginal place that did have good fish and chips. Catching up with a copy of The Australian we regretted not having another eight weeks before having to confront the hurly burly again. That evening we tried to get into Cape Palmerston NP but it entailed a 5 km drive along the beach and an awareness of the tides, so we pulled up short at the edge of the park and set up for the night. Dave, a local, seeing us drive past, took time out from family duties and arrived to have a chat. A very affable fellow with lots of information and confirmation that the council team had seen 35 pairs of slitty eyes up the creek just nearby, but No, he’d not seen a croc in his ten years living there. He confirmed our concern about going up the beach being soft going at the far end, so we were content to leave the park proper for another day.

The wind was strong and onshore so we set up the little wind break that helps keep the cooking area under control. Unfortunately the wind carried gritty embers from a couple of old campfires to windward of us, depositing a dirty coating everywhere. An early start was made the next morning, for the hedonistic joys of Mackay.

We have realised that for this coastal travelling it is best to keep the distances between destinations reasonably short. The early start and quite short run to Mackay got us there about midday, in time to get the last berth in the best caravan park about 10km north of the town. Seawinds Park opened directly onto a beach from the like of which photo shoots are made. With a twenty metre stroll through the coconut grove and the high tide curling around your ankles at the bottom of the steps, it was a great deal for $28 a night. Full of even older folk who stayed long term, fished nad wnet ot bed very early. We unhitched the caboose, paid for two nights and set off to explore the charming streets of MacKay.

Many buildings were destroyed by fire and a cyclone after the first World War, but there was a rush of building in the mid 1930’s and there are many examples (of a lower order) of Art Deco and it is held as being the best collection of 30’s buildings in Queensland. It is bright and colourful and is the hub of a large region made profitable from coal and sugar. As with so many towns there is something of a rush on to expand with housing into areas of natural beauty but no services, but no effort is going into renewal, except where a civic benefit will follow, as along the Pioneer River frontage. The older housing areas of the town leave much to be desired. A couple of visits to the Eimeo pub nearby was a highlight. Perched on a headland high above sea level, a meal and several beers; we enjoyed this spot immensely.

A young couple we met and chatted with had recently moved from Ballarat. He is a fitter and turner and she is a child care worker both having run out of work in Victoria. He got a job straight away and she has one lined up just as soon as they’ve sorted their rental housing out. They looked so happy with a new life in the tropics falling into place for them. The opportunities and amount of work up here seems unlimited, and the contrast with Victoria is marked.

Making an almost final lunge for the back country we left Mackay and headed inland up the Pioneer River Valley about 80kms, through the cane country and many small and well looked after villages, for Eungella NP. Close enough to the coast to be a very popular place, we nonetheless found the road quiet on a Saturday morning, especially with Father’s Day following. The approach to Eungella, as with Blackdown, is up a very steep incline that exercised the low range box again. You pop out at the top, and thinking we must be quick to secure a spot for camping, swung the rig straight into the caravan park after a fish basket lunch at the 1934 Eungella Chalet. We found a lush lawn to park on, and - only a cliché will do - a view to die for.

Blair from Scotland and wife Marika from Sweden strolled over before we had the awning up, and before we knew it we had compared the pros and cons of our caravan choices and were singing familiar Swedish drinking songs and talking of the old days studying in Edinburgh! Agreeing we would meet for drinks at a gazebo placed to get the best view down the valley, we finished the gin, and a bottle of red, as a full moon rose at the end of the valley. The cane harvest was being burnt off on the valley floor. At about 600 metres or more, the air became deliciously cool and mist overhead started to fall over us and on down the seemingly vertical slope. Saying good night to our new friends in the mist, we were surprised the following morning to see the whole valley below us covered in cloud, with bright sunshine above and 20C at 7 in the morning. A day for walking and Helen very excited.

Finch Hatton Gorge is accessed by a good walking track that takes you along the creek to a water fall 2.5kms and 300 steps away. Humidity of course is quite high and the shade of the sub tropical rain forest a saviour. Goannas were many, as were brush turkeys, and at the caravan park at night, bandicoots. A deep pool at the end of the walk was cool and we were glad of a swim. We explored as much of the park as we could by car as well, although not much is accessible. There is a stretch of water on the Broken River where Eastern long necked turtles are plentiful and platypus can be spotted morning and evening.

Our last evening there was Father’s Day and our wedding anniversary the next day, so we were playing some music quietly and cooking up a special meal. A bottle had been opened. A polite Dutch voice asked us if we had any change. Olaf and Esther were having an Australian holiday, he had been to a climate change conference in Melbourne, she is a hydrographer. We shared a red with them and it was fascinating to hear the perspectives of a couple of Europeans who were really aware of the changes going on around us.