Packing up from Airlie Beach we had a couple of days to kill before arriving at a rarely made booking in Yeppoon. With only a "mere" 500km to traverse we could really take our time. What came was a terrific couple of days with a really unique few overnight stays...
From Airlie Beach we took the Bruce Hwy to the South, headed towards Seaforth, and more importantly Cape Hilsborough, which we had heard or read about somewhere along the lines. That's what I loved about this lifestyle. You hear something, a tip, a recommendation, you've got enough flexibility and freedom to follow it up. It's something rarely available in "normal life" or on "normal holidays".
On our way down we decided to take the road from Mt Ossa across to Seaforth. The Rock Truck had put a bit of distance on the ol' Dampervan and we headed off ahead of Nain and Tadcu. The HEMA indicated that the road would be gravel/dirt in parts, but we figured that the time saved on the short cut would be worth the slower pace.
A couple of kilometres however we came across a sign:
"Road not suitable for towing or caravans"
You know... that kind of information would have been handy, say... back at the freakin' highway before we towed the best part of 3t of caravan down a narrow country road. Still, we managed to find a spot to pull an optimistic but ultimately successful U-turn before heading back to the highway. We even managed to intercept Nain and Tadcu before they too made the same mistake.
Still with plenty of time in the day, we headed off down the Bruce a little more before taking the "main" road to Seaforth. The road was a little more undulating and windy than I was expecting, particularly around the Mt Jukes area, but it was nothing The Rock Truck couldn't handle, and we soon found ourselves at Seaforth, which we were pleasantly surprised had a market on.
We strolled around the market, which turned out to be quite, well, market-ty, but unlike Airlie Beach or Port Douglas, uncommercial and genuine. Tadcu bought a cake before Sam I believe it was managed to sweet talk one of the vendors into giving us two cakes for the price of one, something not well received by the better half of the cake stall owners!
I took a stroll down to the Seaforth seafront and had a look around. Not overly inviting, and the swimming "nets", if that's what they were, didn't look like they were particularly serviceable anymore.
We "ummed and ahhed" about potentially trying to park the van in the local caravan spot but all agreed that we hadn't really seen or done enough that day yet and pushed on around to Cape Hilsborough, where there was an outside chance of potentially finding a spot at the facilities within the National Park.
Outside chance proved to be correct, and we found that there was no availability. No big deal really, we'd just push on. But not after parking up, and exploring the beachfront and National Park itself. And we were very glad we did.
Two very happy travellers. It was often hard to capture a moment where they weren't smiling, even despite the difficulties they had with the Dampervan (more in later blog posts)
The beachfront at Cape Hilsborough was like nothing we'd seen before on the trip. Granted we didn't see it in all it's screaming blue sky beauty; nor did we see any of the famous beach going kangaroos. But it had a strange uniqueness all to itself.
For a start, the tide was out (a long way) and the millions and millions of little "sand-balls" made by the ghost crabs on the beach were amazing.
And then the landscape itself had a strange unfamiliar geography to it. I likened it to parts of Northern America you see in movies where rocky outcrops and pines scatter the waterfront on a gloomy day. We explored these rocks for quite some time before we decided to head back and find an abode for the evening.
But not before another cart-wheel was had.
We headed around the corner a bit we stopped for a walk amongst the mangroves. We decided not to risk the carpark access for fear of an 80-point turning manoeuvre and parked on the roadside. We needn't have worried... as we were the only ones on the walking trail!
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Off into the mangroves we headed, hoping that this walk would have a lot less mozzies than the mangrove walk in the Daintree. Thankfully it did. Or didn't. Not sure which is correct there... Whatever... There were less mozzies!
Mangroves are cool if you ask me. The amount of life they harbour, in so many forms, is astounding. I particularly love this shot. I find it almost hypnotic, kind of like those 3D image books you used to get (and I could never do).
The walk was good, if a little brief and not nearly taxing enough to wear our three out!
Back in the cars and off to find a spot for the two RV's. B consulted the Holy Grail of Caravanners (Wikicamps) and found a pub, with good reports, out the back of Mackay, where we could hopefully park the vans AND get a cold beer to watch the NRL Grand Final with some locals.
We had already agreed that we weren't heading into Mackay on this trip, as with an extended stay in Yeppoon planned, we wanted to stay out of the commercial hubs for the next couple of days.
The General Gordon Hotel... located smack bang in the middle of the cane fields. Literally! The pub itself a beautiful example of a stereotypical "Queenslander" but then done up with a liberal amount o of "Rustic Charm" to play host to the pub. If you look closely, you'll see our vehicles parked up the back, and the board advertising "Cold Beer, Good Food and Church!" It was Sunday, but did they mean the religion of Rugby League? We were in Billy Slater country here...
We "circled the wagons" up behind another van who got in before us.
Nain and Tadcu really in the swing of things now, had the table out and teas made within minutes. The boys happy to have a nice solid place to make some lego creations...
Meanwhile, Evie and I decided we'd heading into the beer garden to do some schoolwork. As you can see, I'm studying very hard...
Soon the NRL pre-game entertainment was starting and the kids, like moths to a light, were lured by the neighbouring TV...
Hopefully the video works, but this is one of my favourites of the trip. Even though it's really short, and doesn't fully capture the whole performance, it does at least take a snapshot of a moment where a girl wants to dance and she doesn't care who is watching.
Into the bar after dinner to watch the GF, we were expecting quite the busy place. Afterall it was quite crowded with locals when we first arrived. And we found pretty much a ghost town. Which meant that we had the bar to ourselves with eventually the lady serving decided just to sit down with us (that's her next to Tadcu), grab a wine and enjoy the game too!!
We headed off the next morning, waving goodbye to the General Gordon and saying hello to more cane fields! We still had another night before needing to be in Yeppoon so the pace was still leisurely. We wanted to head to the Sugar Shed which was a working mill, distillery and museum in Sarina, but for some unknown reason it was closed on a public holiday. I mean, I get why the mill might be closed, but sure major tourist attractions in small towns such as these should try and get open on the day when people have time to burn?? Either way, threw our plans out a bit so we took a drive out to Sarina Beach to have a look and grab morning tea.
It was quite blowy and overcast, but there was a great coffee and sausage roll had at the servo/cafe. But really, nothing that made us want to stay for a longer period.
...this sign was erected right near the beach. Just out of shot here was signs about crocs, jelly fish and strong currents. Not really a "friendly" spot.
And then we went for a walk on the beach. Tadcu and I went searching for it. Found lots of beach, not much water... Tide went WAY out at this point.
But then, swing the camera around and you could still capture a dramatic shot. They "do" clouds up this way pretty well. Not a lot of impending doom, but we knew the drive from here wouldn't be entirely dry!
I went for a stroll for myself around the point to check the channel for fishing spots. The pace and speed of the current here was phenomenal and you'd be catching strong fish if there were any here!
And I'm not sure where this pipe was going (or coming from) but my asset management experience tells me it might pipe might be a little "worse for wear".
We had lined up staying at a campground in St Lawrence, another small non-descript town that had good reviews in Wikicamps with the promise of a campfire. We rolled into the "town" and saw basically, sweet buggar all. Not only because the town was as non-descript as non-descript can be, but also because the rain was coming down in droves. With images of muddy campgrounds, sodden kids and no fire and marshmellows, we needed an alternative.
Roll in Malborough 83km down the road, another small town (just how many are there?) with another pub that offers parking for vans!
As you can see, we weren't the only person who thought the same. The rain came and went, as I did, from the bar. The bartender wasn't the warmest of fellows, which always surprises me when I meet people in hospitality. Why bother? It's like surgeons that don't like blood, or landscapers that don't like getting dirty.
After day in the car, we had to cut a few laps of town to "get our steps in", which turned out to be lovely. Firstly we went with the kids and later with Nain and Tadcu. The town wasn't much, nor was the weather but the company great. A great little memory.
On the walk I did find this plaque commemorating the opening of the town pool. It made me chuckle for one reason. Now what if Cr Smith was running late? Would they have to make another plate to say "2.15pm"? Or perhaps some white-out would suffice?
The Marlborough Pub has a great tradition of allowing their patrons to write welcomes and messages on the walls. Unfortunately the walls were pretty chockers, but being pretty tall and standing on a chair I managed to write our posse on the roof.
The pub wasn't much, but the food was brilliant and we loved being in the warmth without having to cram into the van or Dampervan. The call to not park in a mudpit was duly cheered a few times over pints by Tadcu and I!
Over the last few days... the weather had been ordinary. The driving largely uninspiring. The sun rarely seen. Towns... non-descript. Shops closed. Beaches forgettable (by standards). And yet... I loved these two days, in particular the back-to-back pub stops. Not just because I could get an evening pint, but because the drew us to places off the normal tourist route. Showed a few things out of the way, and created a few little gems of memories that will always play a far greater role in shaping our trip that first thought.
These aren't the Big 4 stays. No flashy waterslides. No museums. Just a couple of old rustic pubs, a distinct lack of hustle and bustle and few cold pints.
It's a tick from me.
