avelog

Leaving the comfort and relative warmth of the Gold Coast, we headed down into New South Wales, stopping for coffee at the coastal holiday town of Yamba. Having been spoiled by five straight nights with a handy toilet, sink and shower, we opted to stay the night in a caravan park at Coff’s Harbour.

We turned inland to follow the Waterfall Way – recommended by Liz’s mom – a winding road up onto the continental divide, passing a number of wild national parks and, of course, numerous waterfalls. Our first stop was Dorrigo National Park, wherein we had a quick stop at the Sky Walk, an elevated walkway sticking straight out over a steep hillside, with sweeping views of the forested slopes on the eastern side of the Divide, which drops a thousand meters over only a few kilometers. Next up was our first waterfall of the day, Dangar Falls, a pretty little drop on the outskirts of Dorrigo Township, where we could not find a place to watch the end of Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals, as the only bar in town that carried ESPN had yet to open for Sunday business (fortunately, we later found out that Edmonton won).

View from Skywalk in Dorrigo NP

We drove deeper into the heart of the Tablelands atop the Divide, stopping for a walk at the two-drop Ebor Falls, and taking a detour up to Lookout Point in New England National Park to find only cold and thick fog at the summit. One last waterfall in Wollomombi National Park, and we entered the wintry agricultural tableau at the heart of the Tablelands. Although there was no snow in sight, the cold crisp air, leafless trees, rolling fields of golden grass, and harsh low-angle sunlight combined to mimic an early Prairie winter. Pretending that we couldn’t see our every breath and ignoring the numbness in our toes, we kept driving, passing through the former gold-mining town of Uralla and stopping for a quick break at the agricultural town of Walcha. As the sun set over grazing cattle and parched yellow grass, we once again drove coastward, re-entering the forested eastern slopes of the Divide just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Now having had plenty of experience driving after dark in Australia (sometimes due to poor planning, but more often simply because of the shortened winter days), something not recommended by anyone with half a mind to stay alive, we pressed onward through the dark woods, down the winding, narrow road. Our trusty source (Liz’s mom) had tipped us off about a free camping spot on the edge of the Ellenborough River in the tiny town of the same name. It only took us a few passes in the dark to pick a road to turn down, and we eventually found the camping/picnic spot, pitch black, secluded, empty, and a bit creepy. No koalas were to be heard in the trees, as had been reported.

Ebor Falls and Liz in Walcha

We hit the coast the next morning in the form of Port Macquarie, a fair-sized town where we ate breakfast overlooking the harbour, and visited the library and gym. And now for some driving, down the coast towards Sydney, stopping for the night at a busy rest-stop near the town of Ourimbah. We had decided to skip Sydney this time through because of our tight schedule with the campervan, and instead explore that huge city for a couple of days on our way out of the country at the end of July. Thus, it came as a surprise when we got mired in ridiculous morning rush-hour traffic while trying to skirt the outer outer outer suburbs. Finally, after several hours stuck in traffic, we arrived in Windsor, one of the outermost suburbs, where we had hoped to find a place to watch Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals. As the game had already started (10am local time), we screeched to a halt at the first promising spot: The Jolly Frog Family Hotel. For the record, apart from the big chains, anything called a hotel in Australia is usually comprised of a bar, maybe some pool tables and slot machines (‘pokies’) on the first floor, with a number of guest rooms on the upper floor(s) for anyone wishing to fall drunkenly into bed without the usual pre-requisite stumble home; a stereotype to which this hotel adhered quite well, complete with the morning alcoholics coming down for a few pints at 10am, although to be fair it was quite well-kept and even had a free coffee machine next to the pokies (put to good use by the two of us – the coffee, not the pokies). As an aside, everything in Australia is nick-named by taking the original word, chopping off the end and adding –ies (eg. sunglasses become sunnies, politicians are polies, kindergartners are kindies, labourers are workies, tradesmen are tradies, old people are oldies, students are schoolies), something that is not only limited to conversation, but appears to be embedded in even the most sobering newspaper articles.

Of course, all of this rambling is to avoid mentioning the fact that after numerous instant cappuccinos and almost three hours of intense hockey action, of which we’d been starved for so long, the Oilers couldn’t pull off a final brilliant against-all-odds comeback. Of course, in my wildest dreams, I never imagined that they’d get so far this year, and it was with some disbelief that I had tracked their success in each series up to that point.

Putting the disappointment behind us, we again drove up into the Great Dividing Range, entering the ever-popular Blue Mountains National Park west of Sydney. After a couple of hours, having enough of driving for the time being, we stopped for a half-hour walk near Pierce’s Pass through trees and scrub to a lookout over an awe-inspiring forested canyon. Pressing on through the coal-town of Lithgow, we turned off the main highway and made for the Jenolan Caves, an extensive series of commercialized limestone caves in the heart of the Blue Mountains. As darkness set in, we turned down the narrow controlled-access road towards the Jenolan Caves, we rolled to a stop at a desolate, run-down, and very creepy rest stop on the edge of a managed forest, deep in the mountains, having seen no traffic for some time.

Canyon near Pierce’s Pass

After a night spent hunkered down in the cold campervan, with a leech-between-the-toes incident (Liz) early in the morning, we drove the final narrow, winding stretch to the caves, where we spent a few hours exploring the surrounding hills and limestone formations on foot since we had insufficient funds to pay for a cave tour, visiting the Devil’s Coachhouse, Carlotta’s Arch, and a local wallaby, before driving back through the Grand Arch, past brilliant blue lake and up the narrow winding access road. The weather deteriorated as we made for Katoomba, the biggest town in the mountains, and by the time we arrived to what should have been brilliant views of deep limestone canyons and pillars, including the Three Sisters, we found only dense fog and rain. A consolation visit to the bakery, and we pressed onwards, trying to make up some distance while the weather was crappy. Coming out of the mountains, we turned down the big and busy Hume Highway running from Sydney to Melbourne, motoring for a few hours and eventually veering south towards Canberra, the nation’s capital.

Jenolan Caves: the lodge; peering at workers in the Devil’s Coachhouse; the abandoned back entrance to Devil’s Coachhouse; kangaroo on access road

After spending the night at another rest stop, this one on the edge of a vast flat plain ringed by high hills, we spent the day exploring Canberra and surrounds. Following a quick stop at the gym and a used bookstore, we made our way to the Australian War Memorial, the most expensive-looking war museum in which I’ve ever set foot. We watched the multimedia re-enactment of a Battle of Britain bombing mission to Berlin, complete with a real bomber, two massive video screens, and an extensive array of lights and speakers, followed by a similar presentation of the Japanese submarine attack on Sydney Harbour in 1943, complete with a rebuilt midget submarine. We then wandered among a large and varied collection of military aircraft, vehicles, armament, and varied paraphernalia (incl mobile field periscope!). By the time we decided that we had better get moving or risk seeing nothing else of Canberra, we’d only covered a small fraction of the museum’s displays.

Australian War Memorial, Canberra

When it was decided that Australia must have a new capital city, Canberra was created by soliciting planning proposals from across the globe. What resulted was a city of five centers, each surrounded by roads forming concentric rings, with straight roads linking them like spokes on a wheel. The two major centers are on either side of Lake Burley Griffin, and with the major political center on the south side (Parliament House, embassies, National Library, National Gallery, High Court) and the major economic center on the north side (a normal sort of downtown). Leaving the Australian War Memorial on the north side of the lake, we quickly became entangled in the confusing layout, succumbing to a fate apparently quite common to visitors. We eventually managed to find our way across the lake, and after a couple of spins around the political wheel, we eventually made in to New Parliament House, wherein we caught both the House of Representatives and the Senate during Question Period. The House of Representatives was quite the zoo, with hecklers often (or usually) drowning out whoever was speaking, and the Speaker seemingly having no control over the proceedings, especially when the Prime Minister, John Howard, rose to answer a question. It’s a miracle that democracies anywhere ever get anything done. The building itself is quite unlike traditional European-styled seats of democracy. Built only eighteen years ago, it is quite striking, with a central square-pillared structure flanked by grassy sloped rooftops, all placed on top of a hill smack in the center of a kilometers-wide park.

New Parliament House, Canberra

Deciding that we’d had enough of Canberra after touring the embassy district, we headed out on a big loop to the southwest through an area that had once been a state forest, but had fallen to an enormous and devastating firestorm in January 2003. Incredibly, almost the entirety of the hundreds of square kilometers had been cleared of charred wood, leaving only a few scorched-but-living trees and thousands of recently-planted seedlings. We stopped first at the Mt Stromlo Observatory, run by the Australian National University, which suffered extensive damage during the 2003 firestorm. Hot enough to melt glass, it destroyed most of the buildings and all but one of the telescopes. As the sun dipped towards the hills through which we drove, we passed some friendly kangaroos en route to the Canberra Space Centre, a NASA-run ear to the universe. Although the visitors area housed a model of the Mars rover and some riveting attempts to debunk the moon landing conspiracy theories, we were somewhat unimpressed by the barbed wire fence and guard post preventing us from climbing all over the Big Dish. It looked like it might be fun. Then once again driving in the dark we bumbled our way around, spotting a friendly wombat, and finally finding the right highway south. We headed down the Great Dividing Range towards the southern coast, stopping for the night in the (*gasp*) ski town of Cooma. Our feelings of disappointment after failing to climb the Big Dish were unrelieved by the fact that the only viable stopping place for the evening was a caravan park named Snowtels. I have told countless people by now – visitors centre employees as well as fellow travelers – I didn’t come halfway around the world to Australia of all places just to go skiing! I rigorously maintain that I do not want to see snow.

Fire-ravaged telescope building at Mt Stromlo; The Big Dish (Deep Space 43) at the Canberra Space Centre

With the dawn of a crisp and sunny new day, we headed to the Cooma visitor’s centre to get the goods on the trip south: what to see and what to do along the Monaro Highway through the Snowy Mountains. The key point of interest was the platypus sanctuary at Bombala. Imagine our surprise when an hour and a half later, instead of frolicking with platypuses in a highland swamp (or arriving to find there were none, since they only come out at dawn and dusk), we stumbled upon the cheese-producing town of Bega, home to our most favouritest of cheeses, Bega So Extra Light Tasty 50% Less Fat. As much as we like our cheese, having gone through at least six 500g blocks of it since arriving back in Australia, we were dumbfounded that our map could be so inaccurate as to pretend that Bega and Bombala were separated by 100 kilometers horizontally and 1000 meters vertically, when quite obviously they were so close that it would quite simple and not-stupid-at-all to mistakenly end up in one when looking for the other. Alternatively, we are so in tune with nature that we rolled as water down the mountain watershed and out to the ocean, with no awareness of our meandering course. “Utter poppycock!” you say? Well, consider this: stuff it.

The rest of the day was spent driving along the coast, crossing the border into Victoria, and driving a whole lot more. After one aborted rest stop camping attempt, we eventually arrived at the tiny town of Yanakie several hours after dark, just north of Wilson’s Promontory National Park: our playground for the following day.

Just two hours south of Melbourne, Wilson’s Promontory NP is Victoria’s most popular national park, and for good reason: it contains wild expanses of low shrubland, forested mountains, windswept coastal hills, and vast beaches. Although we arrived on a Saturday, the entire park was nearly deserted, presumably because most people stay indoors on cold, rainy winter days. Since we are not most people, we tied our boots and set off into the heart of the park, driving down to the little administrative centre at Tidal River, and from that base, winding through a series of walking tracks for four hours (15 km). Our route included a climb up Mt Bishop, with sweeping coastal views; a tall eucalyptus forest that showed signs of a centuries-old fire; the southernmost rainforest in Australia; coastal heathland that had recently been burned by the park managers in order to deter the encroachment of tea trees; a memorial to Rangers who have lost their lives in the course of duty; and a high overlook with views of Tidal River and surrounding hills. Within the park’s confines, we saw innumerable kangaroos and wallabies, a handful of emus, and one dead wombat.

Wilson’s Promontory National Park, Victoria

A night at a caravan park in Korumburra was followed by a frantic morning trying to navigate (and avoid) the toll roads into Melbourne, ultimately arriving at Federation Square in the heart of the city at midday on a Sunday, with weekend crowds exploring downtown architecture and shopping. We got some advice from the friendly folks at the Melbourne Visitor’s Centre and headed west to Ashley Gardens Big 4 Holiday Park. Parking the van, we took the bus back into the city centre and spent a few hours strolling about among the throngs and soaking up the energy of the city. Being three and a half million strong, Melbourne takes more than a day to explore… so we gave it a day and a half, coming back the next morning on the bus and wandering around until sunset. Our random itinerary included a fully functional replica of the first Dutch ship to sight Australia in 1606, now moored at Victoria Harbour; a short ride on the free tram (trams are major business in Melbourne); a coffee and paper at Gloria Jean’s; booking our Uluru (Ayers Rock), Kakadu NP, Darwin tour and flight; a stroll through Federation Square, eyeing the bigscreens where each Australian World Cup soccer match is broadcast to screaming fans in the middle of the night Australian Eastern Standard Time (one of four outdoor locations in Melbourne); a wander over to the famed Melbourne Cricket Ground, peeking through the doors to catch a glimpse of the heart of the enormous stadium; another short voyage of discovery on the free tram; and a brisk walk through across downtown to catch the right bus back to camp. We can now report that Melbourne is big and full of life; stay tuned for comparisons to Sydney and a determination of which city wins.

A day in Melbourne (incl Liz crushing tall buildings with her fist)

We’re now setting off to drive the Great Ocean Road, a stretch of incredibly gorgeous coastal highway west of Melbourne towards Adelaide. We have only three and a half days left with the campervan, which is a mixed blessing considering that it’s so cold that our olive oil has congealed. We’ll arrive in Adelaide on June 30^th, spend a couple of days with Liz’s relatives there, take the bus up to Alice Springs, and then hop on a nine day tour to Uluru, a bunch of other places in the desert, Kakadu National Park, and eventually to Darwin, from whence we will fly back to Brisbane, near the Gold Coast.

Having had enough of warm weather (or being entirely off our rockers), we headed south from Cairns, making our way through Innisfail, an area ravaged by a category five cyclone (hurricane) only last month. The damage was obvious (downed trees, tarp-covered roofs, dirt everywhere, sparsely-vegetated trees), but rebuilding efforts were well underway, and there were plenty of road crews out. We paused for an hour or two at Mission Beach, enjoying the afternoon sun and feeling slightly guilty that we were lazing on the beach while the locals continued to clear away the storm-strewn mud and trees. Fortunately, the official line is that they are desperate for the tourists to return in order to prop up that part of the local economy.

We enjoyed low stress and ease of toilet access by stopping overnight at a legal highway rest area, followed by the drive down to Townsville. The biggest town in North Queensland seems like it would be a great place to live: beautiful long beaches, warm and sunny weather, great architecture and deserted streets (it was a Sunday). We again opted for the low stress option and drove another hour south to the next legal rest stop.

Liz on the beach at Townsville

We finally arrived to sun and sand at Airlie Beach, gateway to the Whitsunday islands, the jewel of the East Coast with warm weather, white sand beaches, and the southern end of the Great Barrier Reef. Since the area is famous for its sailing opportunities, we promptly visited a number of the local booking centers, coming away with a good standby rate for a 3 day / 3 night package on an eighty foot Maxi racing yacht called Spank Me. We set sail at 3pm, everyone asked to toss their shoes in a bag as they boarded. Twenty-six passengers and four crew spread out on the open deck of the yacht as we rode the winds out amongst the islands, relaxing and enjoying a gorgeous, fiery sunset. As darkness closed in, we came to rest in a little bay and dropped the anchor. Unfortunately, once the wind shield had been dropped down from the boom, creating an open-ended tent on deck, the smoke from twenty lit cigarettes was trapped in the poorly ventilated structure, and the only respite for the rest of the evening was either to duck out into the biting wind, or head down below to the close and stuffy bunks below deck. Food on board was necessarily bland given the number of different palates and restrictions created by a four-square-foot galley, and resulted in overdone spaghetti and meat sauce the first night.

Day Two began with a deafening rumble as the skipper started the engine at 6:30 in the morning, before any of the passengers had thought to roll out of their bunks. Given that the inside of the boat was really just one big room lined with bunks and centered on the engine block, sleeping was made somewhat difficult once we had gotten underway. With most people still making a valiant effort to ward off the demons of consciousness, I made my way above deck to take in the colourful sunrise over patchy cloud and green islands. Unfortunately, as we munched on cereal and croissants (everyone in Australia and New Zealand seems to drink whole milk – grrrr), rainshowers settled in, making our stop at Whitehaven Beach, apparently one of the top ten beaches in the world, an exercise in imagination: what would it be like in sunshine and warm weather? Amazing! Incredible! Very fine hot white sand and crystal blue water. Fortunately we’d brought our books, beach towel and rainjackets, and settled into the shelter of some rocks to wait the hour and a half until the launch came back to get the lot of us. Back on the boat, we sailed around a few islands and moored at a public buoy, eating lunch and getting into our wetsuits for our first diving and snorkeling in the fringing reef. Liz and I took the shuttle over to the beach and took in some sun before snorkeling for a bit. Unfortunately, by the time our group was up for diving, the sun was too low in the sky, and our complimentary dive was postponed to the following day. By the time we’d gotten back to the boat, all the afternoon tea and biscuits had been gobbled up. Burritos for supper were followed by some jolly drinking and conversation under the wind shield. I ducked out for a while to escape the smoke and sat on a folded sail in the bow, contemplating the moon and stars.

We were supposed to sail to the outer reef in the morning of Day 3 to dive and snorkel at the real reef, but the sea was so rough that even the hardiest dive boats had come in to the shelter of the islands. We therefore had to settle for the fringing reef around the islands, and went for our morning dive in the bay where we’d spent the night. Despite having to settle for the fringing reef, my first diving experience was great! We went down about 15 meters and swam around the coral, seeing many many colourful fish and a sting ray. No giant fish or sharks, but there’s always next time. There’ll be plenty of next times once I get my PADI certification, which I’ve been meaning to do for a few years now. Diving with an instructor is somewhat restrictive. After some plumbing trouble that delayed our departure by a couple of hours in the afternoon, we set sail once again, heading around the islands to a calmer bay for our overnight mooring. We finally got to see what our racing yacht was made of, cruising along over the big swell of the open ocean, the boat tipped way over to make the most of the wind, waves crashing over the bow, drenching all the passengers clinging to the deck, wind whipping their clothes. Liz and I were perched up on the higher side, soaking up the experience and trying to take photos with our disposable underwater camera. Very bland Thai curry chicken was again followed by rowdy drinking and lively conversation. Along with a few friends, the Irish contingent stayed up quite loudly and quite late, telling jokes and drinking the boat dry.

Day Three-and-a-half dawned cold, wet, and windy, but after some consideration, Liz and I took a deep breath and put on our wetsuits for morning snorkeling, two of only six to risk the water. With so many fish and an underwater camera, we had a great time splashing around. That experience, along with the incredible sailing on the way back into port, tipped the scales, making the trip a success rather than a drizzly, cold flop.

Sailing in the Whitsundays

Back in Airlie Beach, we got right back on the road, staying the night at a cheap, but well-provided caravan park on the side of the highway. We passed quickly through Mackay and turned inland, making our way through the increasingly sparse landscape to a tiny little village of ramshackle houses and caravans called Sapphire. We’d pre-arranged to meet up with Bob and Joy, retiree friends of Liz’s uncle Martin, who head in to Sapphire for two weeks to fossick for sapphires. They are among the large number of Australian city-dwellers who own a claim on a little patch of hinterland, spending two months of every year living in a caravan on their claim and digging holes in the hope of finding gemstones. We spent two nights with them, scraping a few buckets of stones from a buried riverbed, sieving, washing, and searching through them during the intervening day. Although we found a few tiny sapphires in our efforts near their claim, we had far more success with the bucket of wash (excavated riverbed) that Bob and Joy bought for us to search through at one of the many local cafés. We had a great time and got a few little souvenir sapphires in the process.

Fossicking for sapphires in Sapphire, QLD

After the Saturday market, we headed back to the coast, driving six hours to Hervey Bay, where we planned to park in Bob and Joy’s driveway. While creeping around the perimeter of the house in the dark, looking for the eighty-year-old house-sitter whom we later learned had departed the day before, we were interrupted by the neighbours from down the street. Fortunately Bob and Joy had given us a package for them and we quickly made friends. They were more than happy to give us a key to the house so that we could cook, take showers, and relax in front of the TV. We stopped by the neighbours’ for tea the next morning, before going to the tour booking office and deciding against a trip to sunny and sandy Fraser Island because of the cost in time and money. We decided to laze around for the day and pamper ourselves, renting a movie and making nachos and pizza; more indulgence than in three months. Following a quick stop at the gym the next morning, we began driving down the coast again through Noosa, finally stopping for the night at a rest area just south of the town of Nambour.

Sunset on the highway south of Rockhampton

We were at the Big Pineapple for opening, a pineapple farm and tourist operation owned by the big Australian pineapple firm Golden Circle (Liz wants to re-live all of her childhood memories ). Although we decided that $15 was too much for the tour, we had lots of fun climbing up the big pineapple and looking out over the pineapple fields. Then off to our big stop for the day: Steve Irwin’s (the Crocodile Hunter) Australia Zoo!!

Liz at the Big Pineapple and Ettamogah Pub, indulging her nostalgia

Although entry was quite steep at $43, the pain was mitigated by the knowledge that Steve and his wife Terri use the proceeds of the zoo for conservation and wildlife rescue operations, including an adjacent animal hospital and rehab center. We spent the entire day at the zoo, hand-feeding elephants, taking in the big snake-tiger-crocodile-bird main event at the Crocoseum, learning about introduced camels and feral foxes, watching a Tasmanian devil chase its tail, being amazed by overactive koalas, hand-feeding kangaroos, gawping at cheetahs and cassowaries, and cringing at sight of deadly snakes. The zoo was almost deserted by the time we finally left as the sun dipped towards the horizon. Figuring that Brisbane would simply be another big city and we could visit late in July if need be, we skipped it in favour of making the Gold Coast for the night so that we could stay at Liz’s grandparents’. This is where we have been relaxing for the past day and a half, enjoying the sun that we’d finally found.

A day at Australia Zoo

Sunset over the smoky Glasshouse Moutains south of Australia Zoo

We’ll take off again tomorrow to make the most of our campervan, winding our way towards Sydney and Melbourne, bracing ourselves for record cold temperatures (it dipped below freezing down there the last few nights!!). Once we drop the campervan in Adelaide at the end of the month, we’ll likely take the train to Alice Springs and join a nine day tour up to Uluru (Ayers Rock) and up through the outback to Darwin, visiting the wild and famous Kakadu National Park along the way. Due to financial constraints, we’ll probably fly back to the Gold Coast for our last two weeks in Australia rather than making a whirlwind journey out to Perth on the west coast.

Gold Coast at dusk

Everyone who’s been a bit jealous of us the past few months will surely feel a little better once we’re freezing our butts off again. You’ll be happy to know that ESPN Australia bought the broadcast rights to the Stanley Cups finals at the very last minute, and we were able to catch Game 5 here on the Gold Coast. Since Edmonton is being pesky and managed to scratch out a win, we’re left with the task of finding somewhere to watch Game 6 while we’re wandering down the coast!