Best Adventure

Looking at the itinerary after the diving we were delighted to discover someone was coming to pick us up the next day. Our plan was to take in a few of the most accessible tourist sites right on Cairns’ doorstep.We would be taking the Skyrail, a cable-car arrangement high above the jungle, across to Kuranda. Then, explore Kuranda’s attractions such as the Butterfly Sanctuary and the Rainforestation, before returning along the Kuranda Scenic Railway which winds its way down the Barron Gorge to Cairns. Free of map related squabbles the day began well. Picked up right from our door we were dropped at the Skyrail terminal shortly afterwards. Hopping on board, the views over the jungle were spectacular. I was left with the niggling feeling that I hadn’t really earned them, preferring to walk up something to achieve a decent view. The accessibility of the Skyrail system makes it ideal for pretty much anyone however. I was pleased to be told the cablecar system had been installed with minimal impact to the forest, with each pylon having been lowered into place by helicopter. This negated the need for access roads severely limiting disruption to the forest, making the whole project a bit more environmentally friendly.

The cablecar floated above the forest and we took in views of the Barron Gorge and the impressive (if extremely dry) falls. A few stops to stretch our legs and we arrived in Kuranda, a village nestled in the hills with what would prove to be about a million tourist attractions. Our first stop was the Butterfly Sanctuary which on paper, if I’m honest, sounded a bit rubbish. However, once again, we were shown around by a guide with an immense passion for her field coupled with expansive knowledge. We took away from it a new respect for different types of butterfly and were even able to identify a few in the wild later on in the trip as a result.

The day whizzed on past. Attempting to film butterflies had been challenging as they kept fluttering off. Photographing, too, had been difficult but I’d got a couple of shots I was reasonably happy with. Next on our itinerary was the Rainforestation, a mix between a zoo and a cultural centre. We gorged ourselves on a ridiculously large buffet lunch and followed up with a photo op’ with a koala, our first view of an estuarine crocodile, and a brief insight into Aboriginal culture. Despite strict regulation I still had a few misgivings about the use of animals as props for tourists to hold and opted out.

We finished off heading back to Cairns on the Kuranda Scenic Railway which wound its way down the Barron Gorge, occasionally stopping to take in a few of the most spectacular views (although some of the best were in fact Shiryn pulling funny faces for the camera! I don’t think she agrees though). Much to our surprise we ended up travelling in Gold Class where a man brought us cheese, drinks and nibbles as we trundled down the line.The gorge eventually gave way to sugar plantations before stopping in Cairns. A pretty good ending to the day.

A pretty touristy day in all, but relaxing and useful for acclimatising to the tropical heat. The a tour around the Butterfly Sanctuary and the Kuranda Railway are not to be missed if you’re in the area and looking for a lazy day.

Cairns is warm. I like warm. I’m told it’s pretty famous for it, being sub-tropical and all that. The other thing it’s famed for is being one of the best places from which to gain access to the Great Barrier Reef. For the scuba divers among us (and of this two person group that would be Shiryn) this was a significant treat. For the untrained and clueless snorkel hero (as I like to think of myself) this was going to be an equally excellent if a little less cool. And how were we going to see the Reef might you ask? Well, Tourism Queensland had rather nicely booked us onto the Silverswift dive boat out of the Reef Ferry terminal in Cairns. All we had to do was get there.

Insert another argument about navigation and we arrived 20 minutes later on what turned out to be a relatively simple camper van journey. Having paid for parking we wandered into the terminal and Shiryn picked up our tickets. I filmed stuff and waved at people to confuse them. Tickets in hand we wandered down to the quayside and waited to board. Booked on as a snorkel tour Shiryn was eager to upgrade to a dive. I, on the other hand was rather nervously eyeing the boat and contemplating weather conditions. Little did anyone know just how seasick I was prone to being, yet how much I disliked the side effects of motion sickness pills. Fun was to come.

We hopped on to the vessel at 0930 and by 1030 I was beginning to feel rather green as the Silverswift boat bounded through the not inconsiderably sized waves. It was all getting too much and 10 minutes later I retreated to the dive deck for some fresh air. Realising my mistake too late the result was a foregone conclusion. I’d lost sight of the horizon, my only constant, as I stumbled out of the large cabin. Spotting just how green I looked a helpful staff member handed me a paper bag and it was all over. My only consolation as I re-acquainted myself with my breakfast muffin was that I could see Shiryn over the top of the paper bag and she was looking equally green. Misery loves company.

Feeling a little off colour throughout the day I attempted to film, eat lunch and get some snorkelling in. Amazingly I managed to swim next to a huge turtle and spotted a reef shark as I flailed about in the water. Shiryn paid a little extra and upgraded her snorkel package to a full day of dives. We changed locations three times offering the divers new sites to explore and the snorkelers new views from the surface. Shiryn was ecstatic to have seen so many reef sharks and turtles.

With diving wrapped up for the day a little after 3pm the boat turned and headed for shore. I was certainly relieved to be returning to solid ground, but the trip back brought back a few memories of lunch which I wasn’t too pleased about. The boat’s photographer kindly offered some pictures free of charge which are viewable on the commercial photos page. We duly headed back to our campsite at Crystal Cascades reminiscing about the day, Shiryn poking fun at my seasickness (and not without good cause).

We had a night in between our transfer from Moreton Island to Cairns. With the plane set to depart at 7.00am we also had to be at the airport pretty darned early. As a result we opted for the closest most cost effective accommodation option. The A1 Airport Motel in Brisbane was close to airport (as the name suggests) but had the air of a day release prison. I felt as if my cell was about to be inspected as the pizza delivery man knocked on the door. The pizza, ordered an impressive 20 minutes earlier, turned out to be quite similar to the hotel, lacking character and leaving you feeling slightly strange.

Having booked it the previous night our taxi to the airport arrived at an unceremonious 0440am. Missing the hire car and not used to lugging our bags we trundled through the door. 20 minutes of bluffing my way through football small talk later and we arrived at the airport. Shiryn’s phonecall ahead to Quantas saw that only minor negotiations were necessary for the passage of our camera equipment on this occasion. Free of our kit we headed on through to the departure lounge, refreshed at just how faff free domestic flights are. A six-inch rather disgusting breakfast subway, a coke and we were on the plane heading for Cairns.

A pretty uneventful flight ended with a pretty uneventful landing. Refurbishment at Cairns Airport made reclaiming our baggage an adventure through a maze of airport signage and we were struck by a wall of heat as we emerged from the terminal front doors. Shiryn was extremely pleased by this and our hopes of returning tanned and summery seemed well on their way to fruition. Hailing a taxi from the long queue of awaiting cars we cruised ten minutes down Sheridan Street to the Britz Hire shop to collect our home for the next 12 days.

At this point it’s probably worth going back 10 days or so to before the flight out. Not being entirely trusting of human nature I purchased two different padlocks at Heathrow. Afterall, I rather like my camera equipment and one of our video cameras had been generously lent to us. The last thing I wanted to do was lose anything in transit. So far so good, all the kit arrived in Australia as it should have done. Jump forward to Cairns again… Surmising that perhaps we ought to film the collection of the 4×4 camper with the decent camera I immediately made for the combination lock on the peli-case housing the equipment. Textbook equipment failure then followed and I rather pathetically wandered into the Britz garage to see if they had any bolt cutters. The combination lock had jammed, and the set combination no longer opened. Lacking a bolt-cutter, the friendly mechanic offered an angle-grinder. Fearing that may be overkill, the look on my face said everything and he made for his mult-tool instead. 2-3 minutes of struggle and the locked popped open (or broke in half. Either way, it doesn’t work anymore).

With filming resumed we headed into the Britz office and Shiryn was welcomed by a mound of paperwork and a comedy DVD explaining how to operate the Toyota Landcruiser 4×4 camper. Useful topics like headlight switches, fuel type and how best to change a wheel were covered. I paid little attention, concentrating on filming. This was of course to prove rather a silly choice.

20 minutes later and we rolled out of the driveway and onto Sheridan Street. A few arguments about navigation and a stop in a furniture shop to ask for directions later and we arrived at a rather plush campsite owned by the Big4 chain in Crystal Cascades, 20 minutes north west of Cairns. Welcomed by Russ and Alwyn we were made to feel instantly welcome. Powered up and relaxing on fold out chairs Shiryn and I negotiated bed spaces in the age old conflict of who was going to get top-bunk.

Departing Spicers Hidden Vale we headed back up to Brisbane, dropped off the hire car and headed for the 10am ferry across to Moreton Island, the third largest sandbar island in the world (behind Fraser and Stradbroke). Having had a surprisingly stress free journey we waited for the ferry quite relaxed and pleased not to be rushing for a change. Not wishing to part with the camera equipment the fork lift driver (who would later prove to be a complete legend) rang ahead and organised us a liaison from the resort.

A surprisingly long ferry ride complete, we headed onto the pontoon to be met with a sign for “Waston and Byrns-Hills”. Surmising that this was probably us we met Henk for the first time. With a full day at the resort ahead of us Shiryn quickly jumped into the information desk to see what activities were on offer for us to film. Henk, who was proving to be the person to know on Moreton Island, sorted out. Rather bizarrely, first on the list was an offroad Segway (one of those two wheeled contraption George W Bush famously fell off) lesson. Racing up the beach we took in just a brief glimpse of some of Moreton Island’s stunning coastline. I did my best to try and fall off. It turns out spinning while going backwards is not the best idea. Objective complete I retired to my board shorts for a swim.

Segways aside Tangalooma is most famous for its visiting school of Dolphins. Shiryn was to feed them that evening. Curious about the impact of feeding wild animals we enquired and discovered that only a small fraction of the school’s food supply actually comes from feeding activity at the resort. Feeding also provides the opportunity for the “dolphin team” to check the health of the school. All this made us feel a bit better, but preferring a somewhat less manufactured encounter I decided to bide my time and wait for a day off the Welsh coast. Shiryn hopped in, suitably dressed for the occasion and two dolphins hungrily gobbled up as many fish as she could feed them.

Dolphin feeding over it was time I found myself something to eat. I seemed to be getting headaches, lethargy and a groggy feeling. It might have been the remnants of jetlag, more likely however I reckoned it was pasta withdrawal symptons. Leaving Shiryn asleep in the room I wandered along the sea front and secured myself a large plate full of spaghetti. Marvellous.

Up bright and early the next day we took in the delights of a buffet breakfast before heading out onto Moreton Island’s forming sand dunes. A bus load of tourists, a large 4×4 bus and a comedy driver later we arrived. At more than 30 metres high they were pretty impressive. Freshly swept every night be the wind the dunes were a perfect place for a little sand tobogganing. Leaping up the dunes, Shiryn sped down five times while I faffed around with cameras and enjoyed a little light banter with the staff.

With time pressing on and a plane to catch early the following morning we departed Moreton Island, thanking Henk before we left. Once back on the mainland, a few hurried phonecalls and we were booked into the A1 Motel near the airport. The forklift driver called us a taxi and we headed back to the dank land of airport motels and take away pizza. A 4.40am taxi pickup to look forward to we took an early night dreaming of fun still to come in Cairns.

Yes, we may be near Cairns at the moment but we’re a little behind with the blog so I’m picking up where we left off. ..

After two amazing nights at the Mount Barney Lodge it was time to move on. Innes had invited us to stay for another day for some climbing, but with the itinerary firmly fixed we had little choice but to bid good-bye to our traditional Aussie house, Tracey and Innes the owners and head 2 hours north west to the Spicers Hidden Vale property near Grandchester.

Things didn’t start well. The route looking simple, we (read I) opted to forego printing a copy from Googlemaps and made a few notes for directions instead. Having driven off our road atlas the previous day we were firmly following our noses. The journey looked easy but Googlemaps seemed to have other ideas. Following its directions we ended up at the wrong end of a dead end road with the only viable option having been a dirt track that appeared to head in the right direction. Forsaking this for a bad job we turned the car around, headed back to the last serious main-road and I kept my eyes glued to the phone searching for signal. With 1 bar found I rang through to our accommodation, described our position, our disagreement with google and rather pitifully begged for directions. Spicers put us back on track, but all was not that simple.

Now constantly paranoid that we weren’t going in the right direction Shiryn and I began another navigationally related falling out. I rang through to Spicers again, looking for confirmation of our direction to be told that yes, we were going the right way. Ten minutes later, none of the reference points we’d been given having appeared I tried again. We’d been going in totally the wrong direction, but fortunately, along the right road. We pulled a U-y, checked a map on a billboard in a layby, interrogated the lady on the telephone a bit more and were off again. 45 minutes later we arrived, stressed, tired and wondering why we’d ever left Mount Barney.

Spicers Hidden Vale (formerly Peppers Hidden Vale) is a hotel built with a number of separate suites on the site of an old cattle station. The station continues to operate, however the cattle now merely provide a profitable sideshow for the hotel. Other animals present on the property are horses (available to ride), camel (for land management) and hoards of wild kangaroos, wallabies and dingoes. We were situated in fully detached twin suite with sitting room, large bathroom, two pretty large televisions and an extremely pleasant balcony looking out onto a postcard Australian agricultural landscape. Not too shabby indeed.

Our first impressions driving through the property were of a corporate retreat in the countryside. This was later confirmed to us by our guide as we toured the property that afternoon, with many of the hotel’s guests consisting of corporate visitors on conferences or team-building getaways. No bad thing, it’s got to be where the money is for the business but it left the hotel feeling a little soulless.

Touring the property, driven by our guide in a new 4×4, it was great to see a cattle station in operation. We were both left feeling that it was a shame the purpose of the livestock had become ornamental rather than as an active and growing business concern. Our guide, too, seemed to lack passion for her area of Australia when compared to others we’ve had the pleasure of learning from on this trip.

As evening drew in I felt a little out of place and a little unable to afford the dinner menu. I think Shiryn was feeling similarly so we hopped in the car and headed out to explore the local area. With Grandchester featuring a few houses and a pub we opted to head along the highway to Laidley, roughly 9km away. Scouting out highstreet (pretty much all Laidley appeared to be) we spotted a bar and grill and a grimy looking pizza restaurant. Heading into the bar and grill we immediately felt a lot uneasy as it appeared to have a casino as well. Very bizarre. Questioning the barmaid, we discovered they weren’t yet serving food so opted for the dodgy pizza joint instead. Walking up the high street and into the pizza diner I was beginning to get the feeling Shiryn and I were the first foreigners Laidley had seen for quite some time. No sooner than I’d had that errant thought an old American couple walked into the diner behind us instantly proving me wrong. The pizza diner proved not to be as grimy as initial impressions had lent us to believe. In fact, it turned out to be extremely good. If you’re ever in Laidley, Queensland, I’d recommend it (not that I can remember what it was called… just look for Pizza!).

We departed Spicers Hidden Vale the following morning and headed back to Brisbane. Next stop, Moreton Island.

Internet and available power sockets have been a bit sparse for the last few days. As a result we’re a little behind with blog. We’re no longer in Southern Queensland, but have jetted up to Cairns where the temperature is hovering around a sultry 28 degrees Celcius. It may be winter here, but you could have fooled me! More on that later however, and back to where I left off a few days ago…

Bouncing from hotel to resort and from resort to hostel, our adventure in Southern Queensland was beginning to feel a tad touristy for our usual tastes. Arriving at the Mount Barney Lodge just miles north of New South Wales we were unsure what to expect. Nestled in 35 acres of land at the foot of Mount Barney, surrounded by National Park, our first inkling came when the road gave way to 3km of dirt track as we approached the property. Setting the character of the Lodge perfectly we found Innes, the owner, tending to his garden as we strolled up to reception. We were quickly shown to our rooms (in our own house!) and made to feel extremely welcome. Initial enquiries were made as to our experience on mountainous terrain, with a guided walk up Mount Barney planned for the following day.

Discussions complete Innes decided that the tourist path was not for us, instead choosing Logan’s Ridge, a direct scramble up to the summit. For an idea of scale Mount Barney lies 15 metres taller than Ben Nevis, with the walk-in starting at just over 200m. Despite some initial trepidation at being “guided” (not something I’d normally do) Innes’ encyclopedic knowledge of the mountain and the area was proving useful before we’d even left the house, reassuring us as to the nature of the climb and offering good advice as to just what equipment we should be taking in this rather different climate. After a superb evening meal of slow cooked lamb stew we took an early night before our 05.30 start the next morning.

Still dark outside we arose in the morning to cereal and toast. A few technical hitches with the audio equipment dealt with (by leaving it behind) and we were away through the fields. After an hour of walking the sun had begun rise behind bringing fresh light onto the hill and shortly after we began the first of countless rocky scramble sections interspersed with dense forest (ranging from eucalypt to others which I’ve forgotten… sorry Innes!!!). We made good time on the ascent, making regular stops to film, enabling us to catch our breath before the next section. Three hours, some nervously exposed scrambles and numerous nicks and scratches from the foliage later and we emerged onto the summit. The wind was howling, but the temperature was still pleasant with just a soft shell for protection.

A few photographs and a brief discussion on where best to enjoy lunch later and we sat down out of the wind behind a rock to enjoy a classic Mount Barney Lodge lunch. Having prepped us with two unfilled rolls, a juice carton, some fruit, sweets and cake the night before, we were presented with an array of fillings with which decorate our rolls. All of which had been carried up the mountain for and unbeknownst to us, making them all the nicer.

Lunch over, we retired down the tourist path (still not for the faint hearted) with a few steep rocky sections and some mischievously tough bushes providing a few slips and trips. With Mount Barney sitting amidst the Mount Barney National Park our guide was disappointed to find huge amounts of plastic ribbon adorning the bushes and trees on the popular route to the summit, placed by hikers who couldn’t navigate properly. Essentially litter, the placing of these ribbons in a National Park is illegal. Attempting to do our bit for the park, we all set about removing any ribbons we saw on our way past, Innes and Shiryn ending up with pocketfuls.

The descent over, we walked off the mountain happily chatting and watching the local wallabies darting around. We’d been out for nearly thirteen hours, covered a lot of height, done a lot of filming and had a decent taste of adventure on what was certainly at least a grade 2 scramble and Shiryn’s first mountain climb. We wish we could go back for more! If you’re ever planning on going to Southern Queensland the Mount Barney Lodge is one place not worth missing!

Click for the Mount Barney Lodge

We’ve had a busy few days away from the world-wide supermeganet. Shiryn’s been driving like some sort of ninja getting us from Brisbane to Montville, Montville to Hervey Bay, and Hervey Bay to the superb Mount Barney Lodge, near the border of New South Wales.

Beginning three days ago with a breakfast of champions at Spicers Clovelly (a delicate combination of flavours including peppers, eggs and a rather tasty quiche) we headed North towards Hervey Bay. Our destination, Fraser Island, the largest sand bar island in the world, home to rainforest, pine plantations, dingoes and the Kingfisher Bay resort. A few navigational hiccups (due to a closed road) started an otherwise stress free journey. From Hervey Bay we caught the afternoon ferry across to the Island and a short connecting courtesy bus to the accommodation at the Kingfisher Resort. Boarding the bus and travelling inland we felt as if we were stepping into the set of Jurassic Park. Jungley forest surrounded the buildings, small lakes everywhere. The foyer to the resort was wide and spacious. Birds flitted to and from the overhead beams and spars. A magical sunset on the beach preceded a seafood buffet and we went to bed with full stomachs, eager for the day ahead.

We rose early, breakfasted and headed out to our meeting point. 10 minutes later we boarded a military grade four wheel drive coach, the only vehicles capable of traversing Fraser Island’s steep and sandy terrain other than nippy little land rovers. Our aim for the day was to view, experience and film Fraser Island’s most stunning features. Our guide quickly immersed us in the history of the Island. Named after Captain Fraser (or possibly his wife) after they were shipwrecked on the island two hundred years ago, the island boasts vastly different types of forest, lots of dingoes (not that we saw any), an actively forming sand dune, a picture perfect freshwater lake (perfect for a refreshing swim) and the rather unfortunate shipwreck of the Moheno (an old cruise liner washed onto the beach while under tow). I’m not going to go into too much detail, I’ll simply let the pictures explain just why Fraser Island is not worth missing should you find yourself in Queensland.

The extensive activities on Fraser Island complete (Shiryn even took another flight!) we returned to the mainland. Both still suffering severely from the effects of jetlag we immediately headed to the nearest backpacking hostel on the Hervey Bay Esplanade. Eager for sleep Shiryn headed to a supermarket grabbing a couple of sandwiches. With them quickly seen away and a few emails checked she headed to bed. I on the other hand decided to get a Chinese takeaway, possibly the worst I’ve ever had (most of it went in the bin), sat outside, attempted contact with home and finally hopped into bed, discovering that hostels are really not that comfortable. Still, the sleep was excellent and I felt like I had earned it.

Fast-forward to 0630am and I was lying in bed feeling a little chilly. The winter weather here in Queensland is generally warm to hot during the day, but night temperatures dip contrasting the heat of the day. It’s not cold in the slightest, it just feels it. Shiryn was clearly thinking the same thing. Two minutes later her head popped up from the bunk below eager to get on the road. A quick stop in MacDonalds (yes, I am ashamed), a detour back to reception to return our keys and we were away back down the Bruce Highway towards Brisbane and the Mount Barney Lodge to the South.

Pictures of the above most definitely to follow.

Arriving in Brisbane yesterday things weren’t going well for me. My card wasn’t working, my phone inexplicably wouldn’t make any calls and despite what my watch was telling me I still couldn’t fathom the time. A tasty sandwich and a spot of kayaking on the Brisbane River winding its way through the city soon cured those ills. After a good night’s sleep things just kept getting better. The balcony of the backpacker’s hostel in Brisbane revealed an awesome city scape. The seasonably drab weather (well it is winter) had cleared just enough to provide a dramatic cloud-line over Brisbane’s sky scrapers.

We quickly jumped in the car and headed on down to Story Bridge. Opened in 1940 with a bash (literally according to our guide, Simon) the bridge joins Kangaroo Point on the South with Fortitude Valley in the North. A jungle of concrete and steel girders the bridge, at over 18 storeys high, provides the best 360 degree viewing platform in the city. Views out to the coast and across the city to the surrounding mountains proved spectacular.

This afternoon we arrived at the magical retreat of Spicers Clovelly, about an hour and a half north of Brisbane (or two hours if you take a bit of a detour). Stopping off en route we were able to see our route North behind us, even the looming site of a small woodland fire next the highway. Placed neatly in the hills 2 minutes drive South of Montville, Spicers Clovelly provides a stark contrast to the bustle of the city, the surrounding landscapes and countryside the Australia we imagined. We headed out for dinner at the Montville Bar and Grill, sampling a bowl of perfectly cooked chips and a lamb shank. The locals all gave us bemused looks for sitting outside. Apparently this is winter? I still don’t quite believe them.

Tomorrow we’re heading out to Fraser Island for a little more exploration of the civilised kind. I think I’m going to use the word amazing too many times in the next couple of weeks.