Author: Mr A
Location: Newell Beach and Port Douglas
A short drive back down the coast took us into the smart resort town of Port Douglas, where we were very quickly scouring the boutiques for Mrs A. She scored early with a fab long dress, that will be displayed at the next fine dining opportunity no doubt.
I won’t steal her thunder other than saying it’s a cracker. More minor successes followed, storage space is limited for clothes even in the Zone, so both our wardrobes are showing signs of wear. I’ve decided to continue with the worn and faded look. After years of spending far too much money on clothes I’ve now mostly given to Vinnies, I can’t bring myself to over indulge anymore.
Mrs A picked up a few more things, then indulged in a chocolate sorbet – yes that is just chocolate, not rotten teeth!
We found some locally grown tea and locally made chocolate, and I even caved and bought myself some new shorts – all in all a successful little foray into civilisation before moving north tomorrow.
We returned to encourage a sleepy cat to go for a walk and to get started on packing up in preparation for moving on. After questionable first impressions, we are going to miss sleepy old Newell Beach.
The walk was a tip from the waiter at our restaurant last night. He did try to diplomatically point out it was quite a tough walk, casting his eye at me when he said that. Little did he know the young beast that lurks under this ageing frame.
After nearly 3km of bush bashing up this path, we beat a tactical retreat. Three kilometres doesn’t sound like a lot, and its not, unless every step is fought uphill and against the scrub. So it was a slip and slide back down the path, with a “ouch” punctuating every few minutes from one of us.
Back at Newell Beach, birds were everywhere – Australasian Figbirds (yellow one with red eye band), Rainbow Bee Eaters, and honeyeaters:
And down at the boat ramp a view towards Port Douglas looking tantalisingly close, but further by road.
After returning to the Zone we decided to bite the bullet and have a go at fixing our Dometic window, as the fly screen was failing to retract and flapping about. Now we had been given some tips by the ever useful resource of the Zoners Facebook group, but still, this was new territory for us. Screws were undone, and the window taken off, (quite a feat given I barely know one end of a screw driver from the other)! Thank goodness for my ever practical wife.
It was pretty obvious what had happened, one of the retaining lugs had fallen off the bottom. So that was pushed back on and after a few attempts we had it re-assembled, with a very timely phone call from Peter Thomson, a fellow Zoner with deep expertise from his past life with Bushtracker Caravans. Peter recommended we glue it to prevent future issues, so we took it off again and did so. The proof will be after 24hrs when the glue has dried, does it work? Your lives will be a chasm until then right?
We spotted this place on WikiCamps that was a bit light on reviews but was described as variously “Open” then “closed” and a “gravel car park”. It actually turned out to be one of the nicer bush camps we’ve had. Yes its a gravel car park and the gates to the beautifully mown grassy areas that surround it are locked, after hoon damage from car tyres and rubbish left lying around.
Then there are big grassy paddocks around the car park are surrounded by towering, forested hills. The light is just so vivid, and we love it.
We felt so at peace here, we decided to stop another night before heading into Cairns.
Tassie loves it here too. She did a long walk around the area, exploring the pool, digging in the sand and climbing on the boulders – for a 75 year old she isn’t going too bad – she takes it all in her stride, sniffing new smells and creating new memories…we definitely recommend a short stop here if you want a restful break in fantastic scenery.
In season at the moment are bananas (Mission Beach is the centre of massive plantations) and they taste just so full of flavour, so it was a steal at 7 for a dollar! Then “bush mandarins” – not so smart looking as a city variety…apparently..but tasted just great, and 6 for a dollar as well we couldn’t go past them. Now custard apples, a favourite of ours, they were just gigantic and we just had to have them, not worrying at this stage how our caravan fridge was going to squeeze them in. A quality problem to have.
Eating really fresh produce, and spending the time to find it, is something we are really enjoying and we think benefiting from in our overall health. Certainly when we have access to quality produce like this makes an incredible difference to the taste of the meals produced in our Zone. It’s also a good feeling to be giving our money to these local vendors not the big supermarkets.
We lost no time in jumping on the bikes and heading off for a 22km explore. We had seen a multi-use track marked through the Djiru National Park, so we rode out of town to find that. We had high hopes of spotting a cassowary, but they were not to be seen today.
Was that anything to do with my “Crusher” as we call it, charging through the woods with all the stealth of an elephant stampede?
We were excited today to be heading out to Dunk Island, which sits just offshore from Mission Beach. What the booking agent had forgot to mention was that we would be wading out waist deep though the beach break to board our water taxi. No jetty in sight. A little wet, we settled for the ten minute transfer out there. For $40 return a head it seemed OK value for this part of the world (I can hear my friends in Asia giggling) and we were soon unloaded into another world.
We skipped past this testament to the fragility of investments in this part of the world and hiked up to a lookout on the peak of Mount Kootaloo, and when I say up I mean…straight up.
Forty-five minutes of pretty sticky walking brought us this incredible view across the Family Group of Islands.
Quickly we were joined by 5 backpackers who had come over with us on the water taxi, and finally caught up with the Agile Andersons, we headed back down for a picnic lunch on a deserted beach. Well, until the backpackers turned up again…they really are keeping this economy afloat up here.
We had a very bumpy ride back to our pick up point and even wetter on the way back into the beach, but who cares when the water is 27 degrees and not a croc in sight..and let me tell you I was looking hard.
While organising the bikes at the shop the assistant pointed out a koala wandering along a neighbouring tree, a great start to the day!
We headed off from Nelly Bay to find breakfast. We had been recommended a place in Arcadia called the Bikini Tree, and settled ourselves in. A salmon stack for madam and a baked egg dish for me, both cooked just right.
Fortified we tackled some more big hills, which on an e-bike means just changing down gears and letting the 250 watt motor help you up. It’s great to see this form of transport really catching on globally, and for a hilly place like this they are ideal.
Interestingly, when we posted our trip visit on Facebook a friend commented that her great, great, grandmother was the first white woman to set foot on the island. There is evidence of aboriginal occupation since the last Ice Age, when this would have been just another group of hills joined to the mainland before sea levels rose.
A refreshing dip concluded the afternoon and all too soon it was time to head back to the mainland, tucking away some great memories of this little corner of Australia.
So eating done we decided the rain had cleared enough to go out for a hike along the beach and then up to the headland to a stunning lookout over Ball Bay, Halliday Bay and around to the next suburb of Seaforth.
The whip bird was right down on the forest floor as we came round a corner of the path, most unusual to see them that close – though he didn’t hang around for a photo, unlike the Grey Fantail, which put on a lovely show for us, and the fruit bats which do little else than hang around (ha ha)…
The crisp air made the whole walk so refreshing. We ambled though this rich diversity of plants and animals and felt so relaxed and alive. It’s the simplest things that give us pleasure. As long as Mrs A has her camera and I have my binocs and there’s a bit of wildlife around, all is good with the world. When we first got married and came here 16 years ago, we dreamed of doing longer trips and seeing more of Australia. Well here we are – converting those dreams to memories.
Thanks to the people of the Pioneer Valley for making us so welcome and providing such a well kept campground at the Finch Hatton showground. Would thoroughly recommend other travellers come and see for themselves.
Then it was a short drive and a scramble up the next lookout which had views right across the plains to the north and east. You are constantly reminded of what a vast country we live in at moments like this.
The final lookout was another window to a vast landscape, one we would be heading through tomorrow.
We had decided to repeat the walk we did when we came here years ago, the “recommended” medium distance hike of 14.5km (9 miles) which took in several of the major sites in the Gorge. We were pleased to be ahead of the crowds, we remembered on our last trip it was pretty frenetic. This time there were very few people around, and the sounds of the birds and the water cascading over the rocks the only noises to break the early morning stillness.
We hopped over the first water crossings, the views down the watercourse with the sandstone walls towering imposingly in the background were amazing. This is a special place, and we’re so glad it is being looked after well.
A spectacular display of aboriginal stencil art dating back to…well take your pick really…the estimates vary here but these have been carbon dated back twenty thousand years at least. The initial simplicity of the paintings belies the complexity of the messages they contain, would be my summary. The information boards tell a sketchy story of what the art work would mean to those who painted it, and the countless generations of aboriginals who came after. It’s such a spine tingling experience standing looking at artwork that predates almost any other in the world.
From here, we continued back to another diversion, taking us to what’s called the Amphitheatre. You need to climb up some ladders into a narrow cave, which then widens out into this massive…well..natural amphitheatre. We were the only people in there and the brooding silence off the massive walls was quite something.
We enjoyed lunch on the banks of Carnarvon Creek before continuing back.
So back at the car, with legs feeling the kilometres and 35 flights of stairs equaivelent, I realised I was not hiking fit!
