tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80107597427677170762024-03-21T15:21:14.674-07:00Australian AdventuresBryan and Raewynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12537170533561114621noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010759742767717076.post-84391635345147682052013-12-13T22:16:00.001-08:002013-12-14T17:29:09.215-08:00Australia Dec 2013 <b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Travelogue 16 Stage 3</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">South Australia</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi62GxwuGNaNN85_xPwpKGfptJrhpAy8WQxbZMLxhss44T7vXjhlWJ4mKdTDWm2rC87LC_mHChZUGnix1AqTP_oNnHlaMl8odGaVDB6lU6oc8Nz2KsuGkByHt89et_KdYSedbdB3ye5fQQ/s1600/SDC12069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi62GxwuGNaNN85_xPwpKGfptJrhpAy8WQxbZMLxhss44T7vXjhlWJ4mKdTDWm2rC87LC_mHChZUGnix1AqTP_oNnHlaMl8odGaVDB6lU6oc8Nz2KsuGkByHt89et_KdYSedbdB3ye5fQQ/s320/SDC12069.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pelicans, Streaky Bay</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once in South Australia, via the Nullarbor
Plain, the scenery changes from that of scrubby desert to vast tracts of
grains -</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> rolling plains of golden wheat, barley or canola stretching to the horizon, each</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> perhaps 300 to 700 hectares</span>.
At times, one would drive into a small town totally reliant on the
grain crops, with huge silos first seen from a distance. This year's
bumper grain crop is expected to produce over 650 million tonnes, a
record for many years, and the small towns are busy with the comings and goings of loaded road trains. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Streaky Bay, Eyre Peninsula</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After
leaving Ceduna on November 9th, it was on to Streaky Bay in the Eyre
Peninsula for a bit of coastal relaxation. Though picturesque,after two
nights the freezing southerly wind meant we decided to head inland for a
bit more warmth. We cut
across the top of the Peninsula, stopping two nights at Kimba, a small
town overshadowed by the usual huge silos.This pleasant town is noted as
being the Halfway Town, being 'halfway' between Sydney and Perth by
road, so a mandatory photo at the decaying Halfway Sign is required. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kimba's halfway sign- I'm pointing at Kimba on the map</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Iron Knob mine pit -90 metres to the bottom</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From
Kimba, it was on to Iron Knob, where we'd been
told of a free campsite in the heart of the town. Iron Knob was a step
back into Australia's history, almost straight out of a western movie.
The settlement appears abandoned, derelict houses with closed doors, weedy
streets backdropped by a giant hill of red ore - last vestiges of a once
thriving open cast iron mine. We strolled up the main street, where
even the dogs were too tired to bark, past the 1950s swimming pool now
filled in with gravel, past the defunct picture theatre,
to the visitor centre where at last we found life. The staff there were
friendly and suggested we go on the mine tour, the cost being whatever
we wished to pay. Being the only ones there we felt they'd surely need
more people, but nothing was too much trouble. A phone call and a few
minutes later a dusty Toyota Hiace pulled up, emblazoned in the sign -"
Iron Knob Mine Tours" The dust settled, we clambered aboard and were
off. Chasing emus up the main street, we then started up the hill where
our driver (who turned out to be the father of the visitor centre
staff) asked us to open locked gates to allow his coach to get to the
top. Once there, it was a spectacular view into the bowels of this
hill which had been drilled and blasted to extract the ore. This mine is
now defunct, but with modern machinery there are hopes to re-open the
mine. The townsfolk live with this hope. Their wait could be a long
time.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whyalla lookout over Spencer Gulf</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whyalla
is on the east coast of the Eyre Peninsula, a large and thriving town
some 70 kms from Iron Knob. Here again is city life - malls, traffic
lights, etc. We stayed here five nights, allowing caravanning friends
from New Zealand to catch up with us. The coastal winds still blew
ferociously and travelling north, we were almost blown on to Port Augusta at the top of the
Spencer Gulf, before battling those same winds on the run south toward
Adelaide. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxklV9pHd0Kh3wt0yop_tooi4pOBQeTnkR3XiE4uXtOueuy9xBiEp1cUIbkrLZ5lHMEp4fowQI3FMKEaN2eG1rVt0pj8ct3vmmDaUs99KiUa9ThhH2D1dMxKtxN3b8u-ez1CO2vNigOKU/s1600/SAM_2308.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxklV9pHd0Kh3wt0yop_tooi4pOBQeTnkR3XiE4uXtOueuy9xBiEp1cUIbkrLZ5lHMEp4fowQI3FMKEaN2eG1rVt0pj8ct3vmmDaUs99KiUa9ThhH2D1dMxKtxN3b8u-ez1CO2vNigOKU/s320/SAM_2308.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">300 hectare wheat field, Maitland</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We
pulled off the main highway and after farewelling our New Zealand
friends, who were travelling on, we travelled down the Yorke Peninsula to
Maitland, where we'd been invited to stay on a 56 000 hectare grain
farm. Most of this peninsula is covered in vast grain fields. Our camp was
beside one field of over 300 hectares. The bottom of
the peninsula has scenic bays and historic towns and we spent three
pleasant nights in the area with our hosts. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday
November 25th we arrived in Adelaide, South Australia's capitol city of
some 1.2 million people. It was a hot 35 degrees. The next day
was 37 degrees.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Adelaide is known as the "<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQtos22Gdh4a_fCXnH0vcn-GqxsqaXNnhhj296KzuKU5l0XsY_VoietItyPvUvy3oC8TrxRdIFehOp1CcOxn7ValcuA_udDfwq3gT6oI5Bb7FM3w6M5sxRekHafl2943fYtmixVcuAXnA/s1600/SAM_2311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQtos22Gdh4a_fCXnH0vcn-GqxsqaXNnhhj296KzuKU5l0XsY_VoietItyPvUvy3oC8TrxRdIFehOp1CcOxn7ValcuA_udDfwq3gT6oI5Bb7FM3w6M5sxRekHafl2943fYtmixVcuAXnA/s320/SAM_2311.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rundle Mall, centre of Adelaide</td></tr>
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</span>City of Churches" and is a
pleasant conservative place, with many parks, museums and grand buildings. Adelaide's heart is the Rundle Mall, and the
inner city free buses and trams make this a worthwhile visit. The city
is bounded in the west by many fine beaches and in the east by the
Adelaide Hills. We spent two nights in Adelaide before accepting an
invitation to stay with a family in Hahndorf, in the Adelaide
Hills.</span></div>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHlw86Fvm0mZ2OsuUcmBw8IZwdE55LinuBbIxIt0o3DCSekvlDeSDCeHylDv3UEseTXAo3r5Yh_a10ehKzGKR_imvWt3Uc2YC7Lag6iGMT0ssOj0-ul9LMFc3DmNQl9LSmj7NEUyGvwxs/s1600/SAM_2327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHlw86Fvm0mZ2OsuUcmBw8IZwdE55LinuBbIxIt0o3DCSekvlDeSDCeHylDv3UEseTXAo3r5Yh_a10ehKzGKR_imvWt3Uc2YC7Lag6iGMT0ssOj0-ul9LMFc3DmNQl9LSmj7NEUyGvwxs/s320/SAM_2327.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hahndorf restaurant</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBYrOPmrBtSwr2VwX725-WYQTrzIBqUoEAzCRdMgbTizQMpWEjKw2JIA3qGNgYEf1PDiENCV8VDnv6WI1bYUtaj6E2lzm0EZQkivX8SdUpArDdFsdCGam_dS-6M0vz6Bs2zf-s91hSc5c/s1600/SAM_2329.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBYrOPmrBtSwr2VwX725-WYQTrzIBqUoEAzCRdMgbTizQMpWEjKw2JIA3qGNgYEf1PDiENCV8VDnv6WI1bYUtaj6E2lzm0EZQkivX8SdUpArDdFsdCGam_dS-6M0vz6Bs2zf-s91hSc5c/s320/SAM_2329.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hahndorf shopping centre</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hahndorf
is a perfect picture postcard village in the Adelaide Hills, first
settled in 1839 by German migrants. Many of their old stone buildings
are still being used today as cafes and craft centres, the narrow main
street lined with leafy oak trees which add to the ambiance. You could be in
the heart of an old European village. <span style="font-size: small;">Near Hahndorf are other pleasant attractions - bush drives to the lookout at Mt Lofty; elsewhere chocolate and cheese factories,
and the world's largest rocking horse at Gumeracha - except it doesn't
rock. Our hosts took us on many delightful drives and walks.</span></span><br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gumeracha Rocking Horse</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We
had a phone call from our daughters in New Zealand wanting us to
arrange a lunch at an Adelaide restaurant, to celebrate our getting
across the Nullarbor. Though they wouldn't be there, they implored us to confirm the restaurant so they could arrange payment for the two of us. We booked a restaurant overlooking the Adelaide coastline
and on Saturday December 7th sat down to lunch. A few minutes later,
both daughters surprised us, having flown in from Auckland just two hours
previously. They'd hidden away until the manager assured them we were
there. We were amazed they had gone to so much
trouble knowing
full well we had no set plans and we could have moved on before they arrived. As it was, we'd arrived in Adelaide two
weeks ahead of their 'plans.' </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The
next four days were a blur of fun as we showed them as much of Adelaide
as possible, before they flew home on Wednesday December 11th. We then
packed up and moved on to a cousin's property in Murray Bridge, some
70kms east of Adelaide where the caravan and car will be stored until we
return next year.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We'd like now to say a very big <b>Thank You</b>
to those people who have helped or hosted us during our travels. You know who you are - our sincere
thanks to each of you, though we don't mention names in this blog. We also thank our readers and those who have
emailed comments to us. We appreciate your feedback.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We
hope you stay with us next year when once again we invite you to join
us. Meantime, do have a very memorable and joyous Christmas, and a fabulous New Year.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">Merry Christmas </span></span></b></i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVpaBuL-gS9Ssx1Bbpt9XoYK56rxrYAu-LAJ7rDimlNC23kSUe0q2wLAnUUWqoWip2BRkpuQrJAam48K0Ns5fyreWbEJp2CnbVUQzJ6kXWJUDhzyWPO4sbISAxrEzhnC5tQwa9VCLfVA/s1600/SAM_2365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVpaBuL-gS9Ssx1Bbpt9XoYK56rxrYAu-LAJ7rDimlNC23kSUe0q2wLAnUUWqoWip2BRkpuQrJAam48K0Ns5fyreWbEJp2CnbVUQzJ6kXWJUDhzyWPO4sbISAxrEzhnC5tQwa9VCLfVA/s400/SAM_2365.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seasons Greetings from Aussie</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"> </span></span></b></i> </span><br />
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</div>
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<br />Bryan and Raewynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12537170533561114621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010759742767717076.post-28805523508298982382013-11-11T15:05:00.000-08:002013-11-11T15:20:05.415-08:00Crossing the Nullarbor<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Crossing
the Nullarbor Plains</b></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Western
Australia is separated from the rest of Australia by only two major
sealed road routes – the extremely long route up the west coast and
across to the centre, and the southern route across the huge area
known collectively as Nullarbor Plain, skirting the Great Australian
Bight. The Eyre Highway route is a journey along one of Australia’s
greatest wildernesses, a 1200km drive across the Nullarbor Plain. Extremely
dry, hot, flat, mostly deserted, it's a hard life for those who live
there yet every motorist travelling that road is grateful for the
infrequent roadhouses where one can fuel up, refresh, stay over and
even play golf. </span></div>
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUujVsNp5SNaKLTxcWIG_ow6Qrvne0mwUyL-Y9UTsTY1LZi-SuTQCEF-w6jKm49950-5RgRhc6zRQ7654GEDMirTvablBxJZYHoha1yUC1csREmQx7MtPlt-cAWvSKml_AscXyuUbCR4/s1600/SAM_2207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUujVsNp5SNaKLTxcWIG_ow6Qrvne0mwUyL-Y9UTsTY1LZi-SuTQCEF-w6jKm49950-5RgRhc6zRQ7654GEDMirTvablBxJZYHoha1yUC1csREmQx7MtPlt-cAWvSKml_AscXyuUbCR4/s400/SAM_2207.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to the Eyre Highway</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOIspFThCJPiv0ZR2LGG1CKVYZUxk8Wt1vdS38Ru0VyjOI_Rzbg3zZJi2Z-HnfVsGWWPe6UXcjMnwnG1SfnybB47f5YdKaGiWLTa0bKf2LptuOpOePGU-kHGEjzmLFQVSjBJlz3MM3_Xs/s1600/SAM_2197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOIspFThCJPiv0ZR2LGG1CKVYZUxk8Wt1vdS38Ru0VyjOI_Rzbg3zZJi2Z-HnfVsGWWPe6UXcjMnwnG1SfnybB47f5YdKaGiWLTa0bKf2LptuOpOePGU-kHGEjzmLFQVSjBJlz3MM3_Xs/s320/SAM_2197.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cocklebiddy Roadhouse</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFyXSfEqTkbFzmb_jUF0_SaU2EKvNHq4nmK0AqvFhtzG4rHBf5ICFD3hXflWKhPFtMidBMojfnNqW6iWzTsanTU6YtfcGaKyCqEdPVSabX95anM6HyGqQr7qRQs9o4e01MyBqDpnvdgHY/s1600/SAM_2193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFyXSfEqTkbFzmb_jUF0_SaU2EKvNHq4nmK0AqvFhtzG4rHBf5ICFD3hXflWKhPFtMidBMojfnNqW6iWzTsanTU6YtfcGaKyCqEdPVSabX95anM6HyGqQr7qRQs9o4e01MyBqDpnvdgHY/s320/SAM_2193.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eucla Roadhouse with road train</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Balledonia,
Calguna, Cocklebiddy, Mundrabilla, Eucla, become more than names on a
map, instead places of refuge along the way. Water is precious and
most roadhouses sell bottled water only. Crows sip damp mud to gain a
little moisture. Frequent roadside areas encourage free overnight
camping, and late each afternoon small villages of campers and
caravans would appear, gone by next morning. Shade was important, as
was protection from the biting march flies. Road trains pass every
few minutes,day and night, the lifeblood of Western Australia on the
backs of huge trucks and trailers.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQmTWqdoS-kry77imGoHzN8GItLBC86U1gxrWxDH0kksrKCDjvYAxnSwCREpfBrci0mmV9d88AI4CRxQm0pFuv7BdPqLchIwx_R7wShBVjniGtPqDKKCwrxIWjrWIJGSA8MTIeh8hf4o/s1600/SAM_2220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQmTWqdoS-kry77imGoHzN8GItLBC86U1gxrWxDH0kksrKCDjvYAxnSwCREpfBrci0mmV9d88AI4CRxQm0pFuv7BdPqLchIwx_R7wShBVjniGtPqDKKCwrxIWjrWIJGSA8MTIeh8hf4o/s200/SAM_2220.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Our
western start to the Nullarbor Plain was on Saturday Nov 2<sup>nd</sup>
from Norseman, 200 kms north of Esperance. Six days later we arrived
in Ceduna, the eastern end of this iconic experience. First night was
at a rest area, followed by a night at Fraser Range Station. At 440
000 acres, and 160kms long, it's a normal size station along this
route. Dry, dusty and hot, it was the spot to first try our hand at
the famed Nullarbor Golf Links, where one plays a hole, drives about
150 kms then plays another hole. Par for the 18 hole course is 72.
We used that up on the first hole, so decided to cheat after that. </span>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFqRkM51tkIF_E-nvWxbEcirkYQQTBswMTzA16ZPl2IwBxVPVhyOOHkn42_w4Z7YdXhj4jF0DZhCzQQ-ozcFl6TgCgJKuW7LYM0OWR3FlI6-Qz9cQSG84H9T0jy77eYKm57taoliIAfGA/s1600/SAM_2222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFqRkM51tkIF_E-nvWxbEcirkYQQTBswMTzA16ZPl2IwBxVPVhyOOHkn42_w4Z7YdXhj4jF0DZhCzQQ-ozcFl6TgCgJKuW7LYM0OWR3FlI6-Qz9cQSG84H9T0jy77eYKm57taoliIAfGA/s320/SAM_2222.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Golf at Nullarbor Roadhouse-plane taxiway behind Raewyn</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiATFUQOILISV7eQTlRdjiIKc7wGefhVsxwOSwmzT9Hy4KF6HwzyC28l3TH5CxnirdEmHzhQNeIHQsoBPumtcu8hSctbG-BlbsiCriCZ8aAMBDJWQWtZ-d0GfKaTwH56Sb5p52cAz2YaAU/s1600/SAM_2179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiATFUQOILISV7eQTlRdjiIKc7wGefhVsxwOSwmzT9Hy4KF6HwzyC28l3TH5CxnirdEmHzhQNeIHQsoBPumtcu8hSctbG-BlbsiCriCZ8aAMBDJWQWtZ-d0GfKaTwH56Sb5p52cAz2YaAU/s200/SAM_2179.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Signs across the Nullarbor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">We
played only two more holes (each about 400 kms apart) and rather than
set off from the tee, found it easier starting from the edge of the
artificial green. That way, we could miss the rocks, thorns,
snakes,crows, ants and most other greebies. That our two golf clubs
came from op-shops shows our prowess at this game. (Our second hole,
two days later was at Nullarbor Roadhouse where we had to wait while
a small plane taxied across the stony ground between us and the hole.
We cheated there too.)</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKj08pT6iOn_n8iaeuyx8JFu2GTWGuo7q3t33dD6pe8ACT_bdPHzpr_MFgCe2B8KL8y_wI9o0dq5SQwoxcUH0TNKRPtS-z1_hErt6X3fUzYjl_pSCBGtjBE5uPnoDyUwuSgMmrFCdpmOU/s1600/SAM_2185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKj08pT6iOn_n8iaeuyx8JFu2GTWGuo7q3t33dD6pe8ACT_bdPHzpr_MFgCe2B8KL8y_wI9o0dq5SQwoxcUH0TNKRPtS-z1_hErt6X3fUzYjl_pSCBGtjBE5uPnoDyUwuSgMmrFCdpmOU/s320/SAM_2185.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The endless highway</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgniJ0_unndA8Os71nc3CFSzEZjv8gZyDQ2rapS1aXQIGd81thVkOZk7g1NRFiQsI1NRlpXKZUOfVbztZrHXQTuZReLMR7FK2epiEEUNXiAP9eJgEFwwbGg1w99PRv2YJTLbXHm_lVxH3M/s1600/SAM_2188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgniJ0_unndA8Os71nc3CFSzEZjv8gZyDQ2rapS1aXQIGd81thVkOZk7g1NRFiQsI1NRlpXKZUOfVbztZrHXQTuZReLMR7FK2epiEEUNXiAP9eJgEFwwbGg1w99PRv2YJTLbXHm_lVxH3M/s320/SAM_2188.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Longest straight road in Australia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Much
of the route is inland from the coast, the undulating flats with long
straights (the longest at 146kms without a bend) disappearing into a
vanishing point on the distant horizon. Reach that vanishing point,
and another appears just as far away. And it seems this goes on for
ever. Not only motorists use the road, but cyclists and runners. We
saw two runners at different times, each fund-raising for different
charities, both noble but crazy! </span>
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Side
roads lead off to various points to view the coast, and get a cool
breeze from the 38-42 degree heat. At Bunda Cliffs, we were forced
away from the viewing point by armies of flies determined to suck
every last bit of moisture from us. But we got the photos. At Madura
Pass,before the road drops 90m to the Roe Plain, the view over the
flat landscape below is so expansive one can see the curve of the
earth along the distant horizon. </span>
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">At
Eucla, the road rises slightly again and shortly after we cross the
border into South Australia, and put our clocks ahead 2½ hours (SA
is on daylight saving – WA is not.) Thereon, pegs every 5
kilometres denote the distance from that border crossing. 25kms,
50kms,100kms gives grateful knowledge we are at least making some
progress along the way. We stop overnight at the 81km peg rest area,
again with the ubiquitous army of flies. As night falls, the flies
depart, the temperature drops from 42 to 30 degrees and a soft breeze
murmurs contentment. Only the infrequent drone of road trains
disturbs the night air.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGOqaPKw8GtLajDcQf3z2Jpw_xg4KwvytAipRLy5FrTn8QQ8urvyo0QzOUFF8xNEuda9-8Z2CgM4IQydy6Nuz6OLHnDlJQ5f4LLi_gBiMV6A2ROkZW0EO1cNKpSorEMkLYpDZi0LO4aj0/s1600/SAM_2226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGOqaPKw8GtLajDcQf3z2Jpw_xg4KwvytAipRLy5FrTn8QQ8urvyo0QzOUFF8xNEuda9-8Z2CgM4IQydy6Nuz6OLHnDlJQ5f4LLi_gBiMV6A2ROkZW0EO1cNKpSorEMkLYpDZi0LO4aj0/s320/SAM_2226.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Head of the Great Australian Bight</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Next
day a side road takes us to Head of the Bight, northernmost point of
the Great Australian Bight. From June to October this is a breeding
area for right whales, often seen close to the shore. Unfortunately
the whales had gone when we visited, possibly driven off by the
flies. But the view made up for that. At this point, the land drops
sharply into the sea. Rhythmical ocean swells lash constantly at
unrelenting cliffs. Deep indigo seas disappear into a blackening
horizon. Rain is on the way. Somewhere out there, the whales and
their young are migrating back to Antarctica. Behind us lies the
vast bulk of Australia.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKg2L_LK71jipUADQVYi3v87ni44foeJ57jF3M61_x0raG9X_z3Kp-LgbiTX8M4ZBFKVE1unvCl5A_IwnGvnr3DGOb4cMvGCRQhyphenhyphenmZT1_XkFPKDfsv6ZNDahsYDLuEAPgsfLCgf9_lJoQ/s1600/SAM_2225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKg2L_LK71jipUADQVYi3v87ni44foeJ57jF3M61_x0raG9X_z3Kp-LgbiTX8M4ZBFKVE1unvCl5A_IwnGvnr3DGOb4cMvGCRQhyphenhyphenmZT1_XkFPKDfsv6ZNDahsYDLuEAPgsfLCgf9_lJoQ/s320/SAM_2225.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Already driven 900kms- Not far to go now</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">That
night,in Cohen rest area, thunder disturbs the sky. Three drops of
rain fall. Then the storm is over. At least the temperature drops,
and the flies go away.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOpkLgLjoDlKYD3WeECBkL9O0qa9M8oweRO2LFIsVAfNEwyKdhZDxvyOiZafExmK7ZuonuukTfESbGRsa6LRAZy0wgGRz7SatYKc7xS4FqR3oDcIa3X-AQYdjikZkUp_X-Wz-6SQ6C2o8/s1600/SAM_2231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOpkLgLjoDlKYD3WeECBkL9O0qa9M8oweRO2LFIsVAfNEwyKdhZDxvyOiZafExmK7ZuonuukTfESbGRsa6LRAZy0wgGRz7SatYKc7xS4FqR3oDcIa3X-AQYdjikZkUp_X-Wz-6SQ6C2o8/s320/SAM_2231.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to Ceduna, eastern end of Nullarbor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Next
day, our sixth, a shorter trip passing vast grain fields brings us to
our last golf hole at Penong. We cheat again. Later that day, we
arrive at the quarantine border just shy of Ceduna. We've already
eaten or given away most of our fruit and vegetables, but give up a
small bag of raw potatoes as they may have fruit fly in them. Then
we're in Ceduna, a coastal town with supermarkets and shops and
cheaper fuel and water and paved footpaths. We book into the
caravan park. That night it rains heavily. We're grateful. </span>
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiiYkAGES48XoGmF-lfHUiA_baprQTYJ4vq9IzyC1GLXeSgxdFikEHZ6UOkXmcM_XiHX7OIG_XW-PU3LZrNLLdxVj_voLCai0dLSHHDZb7VqEpgEMBDfXIHWbzSwJgOkfu2vLESa66gI4/s1600/SAM_2213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiiYkAGES48XoGmF-lfHUiA_baprQTYJ4vq9IzyC1GLXeSgxdFikEHZ6UOkXmcM_XiHX7OIG_XW-PU3LZrNLLdxVj_voLCai0dLSHHDZb7VqEpgEMBDfXIHWbzSwJgOkfu2vLESa66gI4/s640/SAM_2213.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back along the Eyre Highway, Australia's iconic journey</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<br />
<br />Bryan and Raewynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12537170533561114621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010759742767717076.post-19662244375539779762013-11-01T15:49:00.000-07:002013-11-01T15:49:06.590-07:00<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><b>Australia Aug-Nov 2013</b></span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><b>Travelogue 14 Stage 3</b></span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><b><span id="goog_937300691"></span><span id="goog_937300692"></span>Perth-Esperance</b></span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">We
stored our car and caravan and left Perth for New Zealand in
December, 2011. Due to circumstances, we were not able to return to
Perth until August 3</span><sup><span style="font-weight: normal;">rd</span></sup><span style="font-weight: normal;">
2013, some twenty months later. But that's another story.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Perth
was as we had left it, though with atrocious weather further south,
we stayed put for over a month, earning a little money painting, had
repairs done to our car, met and made friends with many hospitable
folk and enjoyed new sights and adventures in and around Perth. </span>
</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">October
4</span><sup><span style="font-weight: normal;">th</span></sup><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
we finally left Perth for the southern coast. It was a little sad as
we'd made many friends who could not really believe we would leave.
But our time had come. We said our goodbyes and were soon on the
road.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDREJnlVD-7ytQGk71FjSUpvyySW7P2kRXdNw4Az4WrK15iQ3rGRhXB0ZvhDdkdZyvFP4lhsRJsKx9fswHI3vEnicRV9989JPxXE0OmbpV7Cf2ZVco2DD1dFoP1JbRU36Qj0s6M-hoBQE/s1600/SAM_2024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDREJnlVD-7ytQGk71FjSUpvyySW7P2kRXdNw4Az4WrK15iQ3rGRhXB0ZvhDdkdZyvFP4lhsRJsKx9fswHI3vEnicRV9989JPxXE0OmbpV7Cf2ZVco2DD1dFoP1JbRU36Qj0s6M-hoBQE/s320/SAM_2024.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cape Leeuwin - note Captain Cow.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Busselton,
northern gateway to Leeuwin-Naturaliste National Park, was the first
stop. Nearby is the Cape Naturaliste lighthouse. Between that and
the Cape Leeuwin lighthouse at the 'bottom left corner' of Western
Australia are some of the most scenic parts of the state. With its
forests,bays,wineries,green fields and caves to explore, this area
felt very much like New Zealand. Sampling locally manufactured
chocolate and honey meant our three nights camped on a sheep farm
went almost too fast. Cape Leeuwin is where the Indian and Southern
Oceans join, normally a rugged exposed wind-swept point. Our day
there was fine with a warm breeze, the ocean's swells almost a gentle
ripple, a marked change to the previous month's weather. </span>
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Inland
through heavily forested areas, staying overnight at Pemberton then
Walpole, our next major stop was Denmark, a pretty town on the south
coast, detouring on the way to visit the Valley of the Giants Treetop
Walk where one walks a steel-grilled walkway 45 metres above the
forest floor, viewing the tall karri trees and rare giant tingle
trees, which grow only around this area. Adjacent is the Ancient
Kingdom, full of beautiful paths and buttressed tingle trees, some
with burnt hollow centres cause by lightning. The trees <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87f_6EguOJyMLFnDi_sZ3N4Gc6aVGIaHvw9vv1Np5-8JFGB_8ZkTNsRych1aXizlFzOIO9q3lyDSr8GN2diArQQaWLmR3Z0et-yP0xNcMEVtSBmDh2JsVMJDsD7747Zis9xFzDEyYlMI/s1600/SAM_2052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87f_6EguOJyMLFnDi_sZ3N4Gc6aVGIaHvw9vv1Np5-8JFGB_8ZkTNsRych1aXizlFzOIO9q3lyDSr8GN2diArQQaWLmR3Z0et-yP0xNcMEVtSBmDh2JsVMJDsD7747Zis9xFzDEyYlMI/s320/SAM_2052.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hollow giant tingle tree, Walpole</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
themselves
were not distressed, for this is part of their natural makeup. </span>
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Our
stay in Denmark's caravan park was enriched with visits by about
thirty kangaroos each evening, and waking each morning to the
laughter of kookaburras. Ten kilometres distant was Greens Pool,
where a naturally occurring wall of huge rounded boulders about 100
metres off-shore protects the bay from ocean swells, making this
sandy bay safe, shallow and warm with clear waters – the ideal spot
for Bryan's first swim of the season. </span>
</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">On
to historic and busy Albany, southernmost city of Western Australia
where we stocked up for the days ahead. Don't go shopping there on a
Saturday afternoon, or Sunday. Everything shuts, including the
supermarkets. </span>
</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt01JskDqv3SQ3XFmqIcrVcQ2ClVZ45ZQXxe67iFrfI-LbVKylFALd1RUpS2sIiWWlo5GP3tmTebLoGGIcPQJHO7zHIdhFdKwBUwAC95o2OjOZ8s3tbu_eQykkLVKkDo8B2qIq8P-0L-Y/s1600/SAM_2108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt01JskDqv3SQ3XFmqIcrVcQ2ClVZ45ZQXxe67iFrfI-LbVKylFALd1RUpS2sIiWWlo5GP3tmTebLoGGIcPQJHO7zHIdhFdKwBUwAC95o2OjOZ8s3tbu_eQykkLVKkDo8B2qIq8P-0L-Y/s320/SAM_2108.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stonehernge, Esperance, WA</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Then
through Ravensthorpe to Esperance, home to many spectacular beaches,
looking across clear waters to a myriad of uninhabited offshore
islands. Nearby is Stonehenge, where a farmer has built a full-size
replica of Stonehenge in England. The difference is this one is not
broken. We could walk between and touch the stones, some weighing
more than twenty tonnes. Photos showed how they had put the capping
stones on top, but it would be cheating if I told you. Few visitors
were there when we visited, the warm sun and trimmed green grass
making it an ideal spot for the afternoon. </span>
</div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">We
had been recommended to stay at Cape Le Grand National Park, fifty
kilometres from Esperance. Saturday 26</span><sup><span style="font-weight: normal;">th</span></sup><span style="font-weight: normal;">
October, we drove to stay at Lucky Bay, one of two camping areas
within this huge park. Being a national park, there is no power, but
there were solar-powered hot showers, flush toilets and gas
barbecues, and lots of happy hours with other like-minded campers.
Each night became a circle of twenty or more fellow campers, each
retelling the best walks that day, or best spot for phone reception.</span></span></div>
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<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Whenever
opals are created, their colours must come from the opalescent
waters of Lucky <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-S3P1Vm6v7Hg_eriODKqMKqC_7j5HKIfsJSS0IV6foiwCEAv1pbO6UMz5-cvH7p3lnUOepw90T0DnYA-uM5UkgXFV-VmoypikqQi1w6q0f4Wym-p7TD2TH3ORiw7rp1J0pCP0cBC7PJk/s1600/SAM_2130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-S3P1Vm6v7Hg_eriODKqMKqC_7j5HKIfsJSS0IV6foiwCEAv1pbO6UMz5-cvH7p3lnUOepw90T0DnYA-uM5UkgXFV-VmoypikqQi1w6q0f4Wym-p7TD2TH3ORiw7rp1J0pCP0cBC7PJk/s400/SAM_2130.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucky Bay - this photo has not been retouched</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Bay. Here, the sea is topped with pearl-like surf.
Between each lazy wave one can see perhaps eight to ten metres
through translucent green water to the white sandy bottom. This area
is considered to have the whitest sand in Australia, bettering that
of Whitehaven Beach in the Whitsunday Islands, Queensland. About 250
metres offshore, the water changes markedly to the deepest
ultramarine blue, and beyond that, bare islets of burnt orange
granite stand naked against the sky. At night, the stars shine with
a brilliance unseen in any city.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Inland,
the park also has many bare and high granite outcrops, one known as
Frenchman Peak. At 262 metres, it's a steep, if not scary, 40 degree
45 minute climb to the top, our reward being an uninterrupted view
across this massive park. From the peak, this outcrop <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuja1HiTFIDdheQ5fO2iCDVj3S_htO53n2iW_LDHfrHRwH22pu3ucbCFbmOoxn-nherF0SjE_dILSX2dlCECzf6K7pua83OBGlKPSe8VvFGPGBdoCAcl9eq02RzWHunffFWqyve7YUgck/s1600/SAM_2149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuja1HiTFIDdheQ5fO2iCDVj3S_htO53n2iW_LDHfrHRwH22pu3ucbCFbmOoxn-nherF0SjE_dILSX2dlCECzf6K7pua83OBGlKPSe8VvFGPGBdoCAcl9eq02RzWHunffFWqyve7YUgck/s320/SAM_2149.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frenchman Peak - note the open cavern near the top</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
drops very
steeply on all sides. At the peak itself, one massive rock of
several thousand tonnes forms a natural bridge over a very large
open-ended cavern. Inside, swallows make their home with their noisy
comings and goings. From ground level, you can look right through
this outcrop.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrvbarWoHA95VcU07PbQJHda0Ubw02RFR6gVlV6B8nPYjF-24M8DiB7luWPsspFtLUi0Z9EliCdYvkBpTrRaqbmH14SwJ7jB-v42cJ7uzzWxwgXm-goJY-E7W_4ULZQk9ioz50FkEzINU/s1600/SAM_2132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrvbarWoHA95VcU07PbQJHda0Ubw02RFR6gVlV6B8nPYjF-24M8DiB7luWPsspFtLUi0Z9EliCdYvkBpTrRaqbmH14SwJ7jB-v42cJ7uzzWxwgXm-goJY-E7W_4ULZQk9ioz50FkEzINU/s320/SAM_2132.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cape Le Grand</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">With
the wet spring, we thought we'd missed Western Australia's famed wild
flower displays. We had been told we were too late, or it had been
too wet. But Cape Le Grand lived up to its reputation, and while
there thousands of wild flowers opened their blooms.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Our
six days there only came to an end when we learned rain was on the
way. We're now back in Esperance stocking up for our next stage,
Esperance to Adelaide. We hope you can join us. </span>
</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTK8Ehb4fcJ49fk0Td2NcKjDf6ZzZOxvXRLtSKA8K4-sxMbHz7yRXSnp5v370oqJFDzTerLUUaLBxR_qcRw0RCroBzSHVsjbO726FtdNT1ZcNURL84z06ybKm3j5JQQ_yjRKfj04_HlAM/s1600/SAM_2153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTK8Ehb4fcJ49fk0Td2NcKjDf6ZzZOxvXRLtSKA8K4-sxMbHz7yRXSnp5v370oqJFDzTerLUUaLBxR_qcRw0RCroBzSHVsjbO726FtdNT1ZcNURL84z06ybKm3j5JQQ_yjRKfj04_HlAM/s200/SAM_2153.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wildflowers, Cape Le Grand National Park</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTy64yrWtgq24czuuz3hTRE2tRrQxJmH16n1u99uKF5_zFz1KHNpud0H_Dy5aL0M4tFmq3ZttLsX6SG30cXGV2pRExfYnyJ0Pa9WgNbA7cTUKaK0y9xDFEGHdieWUg5RzvU_FuUCgaWTU/s1600/SAM_2072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTy64yrWtgq24czuuz3hTRE2tRrQxJmH16n1u99uKF5_zFz1KHNpud0H_Dy5aL0M4tFmq3ZttLsX6SG30cXGV2pRExfYnyJ0Pa9WgNbA7cTUKaK0y9xDFEGHdieWUg5RzvU_FuUCgaWTU/s200/SAM_2072.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wildflowers, Cape Le Grand National Park</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtH13azSxRunpLxiWzMS6KgeEio_TSvInmP2-bRVghsJgrbJdbE-_CYPVU48AestSm7nTmBS0F7I2ptfDvbUAb3Ary5egtF3cBVwaC-bRs2ti_dT0uTY2O4RpqwkcvVy-mlbjZfE0ui4/s1600/SAM_2131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtH13azSxRunpLxiWzMS6KgeEio_TSvInmP2-bRVghsJgrbJdbE-_CYPVU48AestSm7nTmBS0F7I2ptfDvbUAb3Ary5egtF3cBVwaC-bRs2ti_dT0uTY2O4RpqwkcvVy-mlbjZfE0ui4/s400/SAM_2131.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucky Bay, Cape Le Grand National Park</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Bryan and Raewynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12537170533561114621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010759742767717076.post-49096549838151936832013-11-01T15:19:00.003-07:002013-11-01T15:19:29.589-07:00Australia Aug-Nov 2013Bryan and Raewynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12537170533561114621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010759742767717076.post-16593777649585588612011-12-02T19:06:00.000-08:002011-12-02T19:06:12.079-08:00Australia Nov/Dec 2011 Carnarvon-Perth<h3 align="LEFT" class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"> <span style="color: black;"> </span> </h3><div dir="LTR" id="post-body-8480056169151692590"> <div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Australia Nov-Dec 2011</b></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Travelogue 13 Stage 2 </b></span></span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Carnarvon, WA - Perth</b></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Print;"><span style="font-size: small;">from Bryan and Raewyn</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Email: </span></span></span></span><a href="mailto:bryan.raewyn@yahoo.co.nz">bryan.raewyn@yahoo.co.nz</a></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">austadventures.blogspot.com</span></span></span></div></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFaVLJ4yk6rHWz_Pt1NFfHuxYCWQWXP1twySpl4kTSC-yMs777EoWWoKD3rRBb03e0xZgbflpO5ypduX9KpLl4LvWNTw0gsjNoOYuaVurFpUNgccOif_e_PKDBFGutp6b8Fv922XS2PtQ/s1600/SAM_1368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFaVLJ4yk6rHWz_Pt1NFfHuxYCWQWXP1twySpl4kTSC-yMs777EoWWoKD3rRBb03e0xZgbflpO5ypduX9KpLl4LvWNTw0gsjNoOYuaVurFpUNgccOif_e_PKDBFGutp6b8Fv922XS2PtQ/s320/SAM_1368.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mile long jetty at Carnarvon</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Carnarvon</b></span> <span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></span></span></span> </div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our last tales were from Carnarvon, midway along the Western Australia coast, and some 900 kms north of Perth. We arrived there October 5<sup>th</sup><sup> </sup>and a week later were offered jobs cleaning and maintaining the grounds in our caravan park. It was pleasant work, with fine days and warm nights and not long before we found we had been in Carnarvon a month. It was time to move on. We needed to move south out of the summer cyclone/flood zone, (which stretches from Carnarvon to Darwin) yet not reach cold and wet Perth too early. On November 7<sup>th</sup> we left Carnarvon and followed the coast southwards, flanked by outstanding views of a translucent blue Indian Ocean edged in whitest sand, offshore breakers topping the 260km long Ningaloo Reef, and a crisp blue sky overhead. </span></span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvD75XpaCMaddvEgFXRYfnmiaFXA5zMycyCh8wwU7U8oZpFjgIDUEtDJ7ZjRf0Cf1nJx_KUrEEiRKzsP_IMvJ1ZvLh6f1gQ3iYp9rUutg0mMJq4_3IMUf_kyCKzuK8D_Zn21uEma2ISLQ/s1600/SAM_1401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvD75XpaCMaddvEgFXRYfnmiaFXA5zMycyCh8wwU7U8oZpFjgIDUEtDJ7ZjRf0Cf1nJx_KUrEEiRKzsP_IMvJ1ZvLh6f1gQ3iYp9rUutg0mMJq4_3IMUf_kyCKzuK8D_Zn21uEma2ISLQ/s320/SAM_1401.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">3500 mllion years old stromatolites , Hamelin Pool, WA</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A detour on the way took us to Hamelin Pool, home to rare rock-like <i>stromatolites. </i> Around 3500 million years old, these fossils are believed to be the oldest living things on earth, <span style="font-style: normal;">growing in warm shallow salty water.</span> <i>Stromatolites</i> give off oxygen bubbles as each tide slowly covers them. Further along this one-way road is Monkey Mia, famed for hand-feeding wild dolphins, but a 300km detour to get back to the main highway meant we gave this a miss. Dolphins are seen often at most beaches along this coast. We stopped overnight at Murchison River Rest Area, surrounded by other campers – and many chummy Australian bush flies. Next day was on to Geraldton.</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Geraldton</b></span></span></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3wW_NQrIf9LJspgdLQ1Pp1FnCel1uqgczhejOCeQbD2C9Wv1hcyxLxmSLi1UqhWL-Dzl8xoAQOvTICnanBM_olT6iRSdAm3fnftRJEmXu2NB8tyY1rJxok6wqBOOJV2EgVjKmdQJKF_U/s1600/SAM_1443.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3wW_NQrIf9LJspgdLQ1Pp1FnCel1uqgczhejOCeQbD2C9Wv1hcyxLxmSLi1UqhWL-Dzl8xoAQOvTICnanBM_olT6iRSdAm3fnftRJEmXu2NB8tyY1rJxok6wqBOOJV2EgVjKmdQJKF_U/s320/SAM_1443.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pinnacles Desert, WA</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Geraldton is an historic coastal town, some six hours drive north of Perth. We stopped a week at Fig Tree, a serviced rest area some16 kms east of Geraldton, surrounded by huge fields of golden swaying wheat. Each evening was 'happy hour' with most other campers involved. Geraldton's weekend markets, historic buildings and fine beaches make it an attractive place, if a little strange as most shops close at weekends. It's a little like going into a time warp.</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Cervantes</b></span></span></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1xDmDTjENTmlC1uDtaOhDuRBHfQzGc87QwpQGJupofBxUBvQOjn3ehypoQSiUuEUutl6-ZCn6PNUSeBUy-pc0YQKb3WtaAPyD4IIQs9gvYOEOxyiV3n1lrGmZQ2DIU_5Nwm8H84q4VmM/s1600/SAM_1431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1xDmDTjENTmlC1uDtaOhDuRBHfQzGc87QwpQGJupofBxUBvQOjn3ehypoQSiUuEUutl6-ZCn6PNUSeBUy-pc0YQKb3WtaAPyD4IIQs9gvYOEOxyiV3n1lrGmZQ2DIU_5Nwm8H84q4VmM/s320/SAM_1431.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strange rocks at Pinnacles Desert, near Cervantes</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sunday 13<sup>th</sup> November we left Geraldton, and two days later settled into the cray-fishing town, Cervantes, close to the Pinnacles Desert region of Nambung National Park. In all Australia, only in this park are found strange limestone pillars up to 5 metres high, in their thousands. A drive and walk through the park allowed us to get up close and personal with some of the pillars. They are extremely hard and depending on where in the park, are in different coloured groups. Various theories explain how they formed, but not knowing adds to their attraction. Oddly, this site was virtually unknown until the 1970s when it was 're-discovered' by locals.</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8aCQ4rgd9Va4iMEwILXZ70VVEwtJUNF5o6XtVRGRAN1AxUo635sBa0wmpLZPcMR7og2DizsnotKglGfiAb04ye4sa3MJty-p3pc2FSvUl0snGgReF_LzuqKCNZbJPWS-d7OlKcSszgNs/s1600/SAM_1463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8aCQ4rgd9Va4iMEwILXZ70VVEwtJUNF5o6XtVRGRAN1AxUo635sBa0wmpLZPcMR7og2DizsnotKglGfiAb04ye4sa3MJty-p3pc2FSvUl0snGgReF_LzuqKCNZbJPWS-d7OlKcSszgNs/s320/SAM_1463.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perth City from Kings Park</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>PERTH</b></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A zig-zag trip with a night in Yanchep National Park, surrounded by hundreds of kangaroos, and a detour to the Gravity Discovery Centre, found us in Perth on Thursday, November 18<sup>th</sup> . With 1.6 million people, Perth is the largest city in Western Australia and considered the world's most isolated city. With its many parks, fine surf beaches, easy transport and agreeable climate, Perth is a very liveable city and home to thousands of NZ expatriates The view over the city from the 400 hectare (1000 acre) Kings Park is perhaps the most renowned view of the city - the Swan River fronting the city skyscrapers, and softened by a ribbon of greenery between river and city. There's a lot more sights in Perth than we have seen in the last two weeks. We've visited the Perth Mint, Fremantle markets and inner-city (where bus transport is free), stayed a week with long-time ex-NZ friends, had dinners with other friends we've made along our journey, and organising storage of our car and caravan. Time is now short, and our exploration of Perth will have to wait until we return next year.</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This is the end of Stage Two of our Australian journey. We fly back to New Zealand mid-December, and plan to be back in Perth sometime mid-2012 to continue our journey. Please join us. Should you wish to unsubscribe from the blog email list, please let us know. Comments are also welcome. </span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Have a Cherry Christmas, an equally wonderful New Year and prosperous 2012. </span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So this is where we are </td></tr>
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</div>Bryan and Raewynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12537170533561114621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010759742767717076.post-84800561691516925902011-10-11T05:38:00.000-07:002011-10-11T05:38:49.792-07:00Australia October 2011 Katherine NT - Carnarvon WA<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Australia October 2011</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Travelogue 12</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Stage 2 Katherine, NT- Carnarvon,WA</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Print;">from Bryan and Raewyn</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Print;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Email: <a href="mailto:bryan.raewyn@yahoo.co.nz">bryan.raewyn@yahoo.co.nz</a></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Web: austadventures.blogspot.com</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Katherine</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Our last tales were from Katherine, some 300 kms south of Darwin. We spent seven weeks in the Northern Territory, exploring Kakadu and Litchfield National Parks, Katherine Gorge, Alice Springs and many other towns, each an oasis in the vast dry landscape. By mid-September, “the Build-Up” was due, with the barometer slowly climbing as each day's humidity and temperature increased. This annual event culminates in “The Wet” in summer, when much of Northern Australia suffers a barrage of high temperatures and monsoons. Darwin's houses have no gutters, as they cannot cope with these downpours. “The Dry,” in winter, is the most comfortable time to be this far north. September 16<sup>th</sup>, with the onset of spring and “The Build-Up,” we headed west, wanting to get below the Tropic of Capricorn.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Kununurra</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Two days later, we reached Kununarra, a town some 400 kms west of Katherine and 40kms inside the Western Australia border. At the border, every vehicle is inspected for fruit and vegetables, and any found is confiscated. We had been told of the border restrictions, so had eaten up before reaching there. We settled into the Kimberleyland Caravan Park in Kununurra, bordering Lake Argyle. At over 1000 square kilometres, this is the largest freshwater lake in Australia, and home to a third of Australia's bird species. With good fishing, it's also a popular spot for many keen anglers. Kayaking on the lake was a relaxing pastime, and after dark the red eyes of freshwater crocodiles, up to 1.2 metres long, glowed in our torch lights as they hunted fish. These crocodiles are for the most part harmless, and often rested at night on the lake edge, near caravans and tents. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">We opted to fish one afternoon at Ivanhoe Crossing, ten minutes north of Kununurra. Here, the road causeway crosses the Ord River, but was closed as a metre of flood water ran across it. Signs warned of estuarine crocodiles (the dangerous ones) so we stayed on the safe riverbank. A few locals did venture onto the causeway to fish, but with its slippery moss, fast flowing water and crocodiles, it could have been disastrous. We found a spot a little downstream, and Raewyn pulled out several abandoned nylon fishing lines which had one end tied to scrubby trees, the other end flapping about mid-air or in the water. One line was particularly tight and on pulling it up, we found it had hooked a very large barramundi, a prime eating fish found throughout Australia. At seventy centimetres, it was near the maximum legal catch size. Though tired from being hooked for possibly several days, it still put up a remarkable fight. We'd thought of leaving it, but obviously the line had been abandoned, and this fish would have only become crocodile tucker, so that night we ate well. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Broome</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">After four days in Kununurra, it was time to head farther west across this great state to the coast. It took three days to reach Broome, the northernmost coastal town in Western Australia. We overnighted at rest areas with quaint names like Mary Pool, and Nillibubicca (how I remember that name, I don't know) and passed through the isolated frontier-like towns of Halls Creek, Timber Creek and Fitzroy Crossing.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5w4LxbPLchY-qPeEbrrnArVaJ9B8Mg751rTkKRS9imDgUbXQZF-1zaHrUeQ8RAjpe4y5yckYvNUBEHneGsnlJ2t4S0Gbldg8CMJXxY10f8UrLBwp9PeY-24KMZW8d6ycWDzcv6fzXyGo/s1600/SAM_1277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5w4LxbPLchY-qPeEbrrnArVaJ9B8Mg751rTkKRS9imDgUbXQZF-1zaHrUeQ8RAjpe4y5yckYvNUBEHneGsnlJ2t4S0Gbldg8CMJXxY10f8UrLBwp9PeY-24KMZW8d6ycWDzcv6fzXyGo/s200/SAM_1277.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sunrise, Roebuck Bay, Broome</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">There was also another route to Broome, a little shorter than our 900 kilometre route. This is the renowned Gibb River Road, a 680 kms 4WD unsealed and corrugated road through the picturesque Kimberley Plateau. Allow up to seven days, the brochures read. Carry plenty of supplies, as water and fuel was limited. We met several who'd driven the road, including one who'd taken his caravan along this road. Never again, he vowed as he assessed the damage to his caravan. You can understand why we stuck to the main highway. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ4UyKZHZOm8DE0xTYpgo7O0PzZn8XWtxAsfSze3pmSsE8sMLA6H7SUCSOhChVPfkeL9dC4LMa-PSk0DQ4es5-m7DShWD1uCB5h7F_BuG7gTXvtdPvYlN7aRQ3gGIzY8V4IUpOCN2Keqk/s1600/SAM_1272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ4UyKZHZOm8DE0xTYpgo7O0PzZn8XWtxAsfSze3pmSsE8sMLA6H7SUCSOhChVPfkeL9dC4LMa-PSk0DQ4es5-m7DShWD1uCB5h7F_BuG7gTXvtdPvYlN7aRQ3gGIzY8V4IUpOCN2Keqk/s320/SAM_1272.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Camels await riders,Cable Beach, Broome</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZ1lkB4GX65LeSWN-B0bfgDjGtbkBTgxCAe5Ii2byydqCvd-JHa0c8I9zhA7bpLf36YtNPAIpwtXxacxOMVvb-DMQ7c9dFNZ2ZypaY8ugjOZLPGfWpFcdokEaaMhpNDOCm5vBt7jtzBI/s1600/SAM_1332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZ1lkB4GX65LeSWN-B0bfgDjGtbkBTgxCAe5Ii2byydqCvd-JHa0c8I9zhA7bpLf36YtNPAIpwtXxacxOMVvb-DMQ7c9dFNZ2ZypaY8ugjOZLPGfWpFcdokEaaMhpNDOCm5vBt7jtzBI/s320/SAM_1332.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our caravan site overlooking Roebuck Bay, Broome </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">At Broome, it was nice to see the blue sea again, the sparkling Indian Ocean. Broome, famous for it's pearling industry, is also renowned for glorious sunrises and sunsets. Our caravan site overlooking Roebuck Bay was perfectly placed. Each morning, the sun rose in deep scarlet hues reflected in the harbour, before melting into a blue sky. Cable Bay, on the ocean side of Broome, is home to popular camel trekking along the beach. Most camels, roped together in chains of twelve and each carrying up to two people complained bitterly as they stood up. Going by the size of some of those aboard, I couldn't blame the camel. One more straw, and it could have been fun. Sunsets at Cable Bay were to die for, cameras clicking furiously along the beach front each night. </span></span> </div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"> <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Broome's small Chinatown area in the town centre is made up of upmarket pearl stores almost end to end, punctuated by the odd cafe or pub. You can buy pearls here in almost any colour or price. Perhaps the oddest attraction in Broome is the airport. The runway is just at the end of the main street, and when walking this street, you instinctively duck as planes fly over, their wheels seemingly only a few metres above your head. </span></span> </div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVYjWjXgZQQgTG73F5UASU09MsBd85F4apMp8LlHuRDFr3c63iJy83Jy3Vkb4d4CZY1NFcYG0ju6sriG3-2PxRPm6SMhZ4QZCs7baY6Qmai2v5Sl16D2HAkzmRxJ8k9NvprL-4A9kztZY/s1600/SAM_1351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVYjWjXgZQQgTG73F5UASU09MsBd85F4apMp8LlHuRDFr3c63iJy83Jy3Vkb4d4CZY1NFcYG0ju6sriG3-2PxRPm6SMhZ4QZCs7baY6Qmai2v5Sl16D2HAkzmRxJ8k9NvprL-4A9kztZY/s320/SAM_1351.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Emu and chicks on path, Cape Range NP</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b> Cape Range National Park / Ningaloo Marine Park</b></span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">After four nights in Broome, we travelled south while the fine weather was still with us. In the next three days, we drove over 1000 kms to reach Exmouth, gateway to the Cape Range National Park and adjoining Ningaloo Reef Marine Park. This coral reef, some 260 kms long is for the most part perhaps one kilometre offshore and home to many varieties of fish, turtles, rays, dugongs, sharks, whales and dolphins. Cape Range National Park adjoins the Ningaloo reef for some 60 kms. With only 112 non-powered sites available within that park, camp sites are almost always occupied. Exmouth Visitor Centre staff suggested we try turning up at the park entrance gates very early the next morning and chance somebody was leaving. We got there at 7.30am. Already three hopeful groups were in front of us, and by 8am, when the park office opened, another ten or so were behind us. Fortunately six sites became available that day,. I think we got the best site at Ned's Camp, only 8 kms into the park. Some campers had to go 50 kms into the park to reach their site. </span></span> </div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisJ4v5Tg6_3HyvoNxyywkPaK9wAjmJna_YXlWKHrXl5FTfxu7iJXtGt9JfshBtwlP3RgqPDClgDx2-5LTsm5ChJIyuMF4qkPGJNpoDABHsqPJL7StZ6s5n80sbWTc-uzc52u4P9icTSpY/s1600/SAM_1358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisJ4v5Tg6_3HyvoNxyywkPaK9wAjmJna_YXlWKHrXl5FTfxu7iJXtGt9JfshBtwlP3RgqPDClgDx2-5LTsm5ChJIyuMF4qkPGJNpoDABHsqPJL7StZ6s5n80sbWTc-uzc52u4P9icTSpY/s320/SAM_1358.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sunset, Cape Range National Park</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">We spent four relaxing nights in the park, overlooking a white sandy beach with the ocean swells breaking over the Ningaloo Reef about a kilometre offshore. Within the park, one could go snorkelling, canyon walking, or swimming in the warm waters. Behind us, low dry scrub covered the ground up to the Cape Range summits and park border. Red kangaroos (the big ones) and emus with chicks were common park visitors. We telephoned our daughters from a phone booth situated near the park information centre. It was rather odd, a phone booth in the middle of a scrub-covered plain, kangaroos hopping around beside us. </span></span> </div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">October the 6<sup>th</sup> we left Cape Range National Park to continue our journey south. We were told to not miss seeing Coral Bay, some 150 kms farther. A short detour took us off the main highway to this most beautiful bay, where the coral reef was barely ten metres offshore from a sheltered sandy bay. Both Raewyn and I went snorkelling, and seconds from the sand, you were over the coral reef and a multitude of fish. If we'd had more time, we could venture a little further out to see larger fish and corals. Captivated families played around the beach, and those inclined could go on a glass bottomed boat to see the main reef further out.</span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Beside this bay, the two caravan parks were a boisterous jam of wall to wall vans, camping trailers and tents vying with each other for space to put their cars,boats, water toys, bicycles and clotheslines. It was school holiday time, and the parks were packed with families and groups making the best of the glorious weather. Fresh water was available to campers at $10 per ten litres. We could easily understand the popularity of Coral Bay, but an afternoon there was enough for us. We spent that night farther south at another roadside reserve, Lyndon River, where another fifteen travellers pulled in for the night. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Carnarvon</b></span> </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Next day, October 5<sup>th</sup>, we moved on to Carnarvon. Carnarvon is a small and quiet town 900 kms north of Perth. It's West Australia's fruit and vegetable growing area, not really a tourist spot, though there are several caravan parks. With this competition, overnight rates are reasonable so we spent a week there to relax. We don't want to reach Perth too early, as it's still cold there. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPt3MEGJOdD_ZNDZBwpTjVCVB881GkXGqoRsuOPhV_UHGSbg3LCffkKe6_hg-oZ5EOSvhUagOmuD7HCS7_zyehJLvneDJA02AXVcccoZG-_J50wnujUIP3awXyFEsTPfzN174GnW0Is_g/s1600/SAM_1370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPt3MEGJOdD_ZNDZBwpTjVCVB881GkXGqoRsuOPhV_UHGSbg3LCffkKe6_hg-oZ5EOSvhUagOmuD7HCS7_zyehJLvneDJA02AXVcccoZG-_J50wnujUIP3awXyFEsTPfzN174GnW0Is_g/s320/SAM_1370.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Quobba Blowholes</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Though Carnarvon itself is a country town servicing the local market gardens, some 70 kms north are the Quobba Blowholes, a spectacular event on the half tides, where great ocean swells smash into rock shelves, and blast through a series of blowholes reaching about 15 metres into the air. Barely a kilometre south, a safe sandy Point Quobba Beach overlooks a calm sea water lagoon, protected from the Indian Ocean swells by the huge coral reef. At the edge of this huge lagoon, perhaps in only 30 cm of water, a crumbled biscuit or bread dropped into the water immediately brought hundreds of fish into a feeding frenzy around your feet. We went snorkelling in this lagoon, the coral more colourful and fish more plentiful than that of Coral Bay – and with a lot less people Once used to our presence, fish surrounded and accompanied us as we drifted over the corals in the warm clear water.</span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">It seems little noted, even by the local tourist centre, that Quobba is the westernmost point of any sealed road in Australia. But it was another tick in our list of Australian achievements. </span></span> </div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span> </div>Bryan and Raewynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12537170533561114621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010759742767717076.post-2729087615668336142011-09-14T04:17:00.000-07:002011-09-14T04:27:39.501-07:00<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Australia September 2011</b></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Travelogue 11</b></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Stage 2 Alice Springs – Darwin/Katherine</b></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Print;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">from Bryan and Raewyn</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Print;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Email: <a href="mailto:bryan.raewyn@yahoo.co.nz">bryan.raewyn@yahoo.co.nz</a></span></span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Web: austadventures.blogspot.com</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Alice Springs</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Our last tales were from Alice Springs, where we spent almost three weeks enjoying the wonders of the red centre. Tuesday 23<sup>rd</sup> August, we left Alice Springs and retraced our steps north along the Stuart Highway. We'd planned another overnight stop at Devils Marbles as we had done before, but on arrival, flames licked the roadside, and clouds of wind-whipped smoke and ash from a huge grass-fire drifted across the rock columns and roads. Though the campsite itself was clear, any wind change could have meant a panic exit, so we decided to carry on, stopping overnight at Bonny's Well, a little farther up the road. Next day we again passed Three Ways, and with Alice Springs now 500 kms behind us, we entered new territory. </span></span> </div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhybrVj7K0CKEmA5-lZrtDUnTbxCbEg8xaet2r5NFtZRRZS348rYhksRDi-BzvpASBPcCoxI4AmLhm3WhFA0DVHuR30-9nAfpa-srdk9b_7YRT6CN8guesngqnjqHTiaJblIH8diIsHHgg/s1600/SAM_1132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhybrVj7K0CKEmA5-lZrtDUnTbxCbEg8xaet2r5NFtZRRZS348rYhksRDi-BzvpASBPcCoxI4AmLhm3WhFA0DVHuR30-9nAfpa-srdk9b_7YRT6CN8guesngqnjqHTiaJblIH8diIsHHgg/s320/SAM_1132.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Daly Waters pub</span></td></tr>
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</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Daly Waters </b></span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">We'd been advised to stay a night at Banka Banka Cattle Station, 50kms north of Three Ways. We were greeted by the greenest grass we'd seen for some time, and fresh cool spring water. Happy hour was around a huge camp fire near the original homestead, as a distant dingo howled and talk was of a mob of loose cattle near the road.</span></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidbWCWPh9-K094p5K0Te14wFQkBW8RN0gx6vKbQASGp9EdVz1gIfUmtIFUa6rW7hEffIn7n3iFtqED3ojmrkcsoFs48hlIU4m_CPIaI_bhXd92v5e5ejzPA9KNhT-l25VmSWEb8nx7hiw/s1600/SAM_1134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidbWCWPh9-K094p5K0Te14wFQkBW8RN0gx6vKbQASGp9EdVz1gIfUmtIFUa6rW7hEffIn7n3iFtqED3ojmrkcsoFs48hlIU4m_CPIaI_bhXd92v5e5ejzPA9KNhT-l25VmSWEb8nx7hiw/s320/SAM_1134.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Daly Waters pub</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">We'd also been told to not miss Daly Waters, some 340kms farther north and four kilometres off the Stuart Highway. In this outback village, the tiny pub is a clutter of bras, knickers, hats, horse gear, money, badges, ID cards and various other paraphernalia attached to every available space. Rusting ironmongery sits in corners and outside, a sign reads “Angle Parking Only Mate – Any Angle You Like”. Adjacent is an open air restaurant which serves 'barra or steak' nightly from about 6pm. We ordered for 6.30pm, dining with friends we'd made along the way. Barra means barramundi, the famous fish of the north. Alongside this pub/restaurant, the caravan park filled quickly with travellers here for this legendary meal, and the comedy and songs show which followed. In true country style, too quickly it all passed, and many happy campers farted their way back to their caravans.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjao_ya55L3Z6oddmLhEMnJsIrMANn-cheE3M_cNDWN0ZWD7Jk5D9iY8Erf8sQ3RxxjjEjSZFB80Ef4TwW8PnsukW1w-F31ZJ5DWtywYgpqsWsSV4HPKU58aTdoqZEvhcJL2-2GIvrEZbM/s1600/SAM_1137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjao_ya55L3Z6oddmLhEMnJsIrMANn-cheE3M_cNDWN0ZWD7Jk5D9iY8Erf8sQ3RxxjjEjSZFB80Ef4TwW8PnsukW1w-F31ZJ5DWtywYgpqsWsSV4HPKU58aTdoqZEvhcJL2-2GIvrEZbM/s320/SAM_1137.JPG" width="320" /><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></a></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Warm stream at Bitter Springs, Mataranka</span></td></tr>
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</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Katherine</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Next destination was Katherine, via Bitter Springs, Mataranka. Here, clear spring water flows gently alongside palms, ferns and tropical trees. Birds flit amongst the trees, and small fish accompany you in the warm stream. A short track leads to steps to ease into the 33 degree water, and many people take floats to drift some 100 metres downstream to where even more steps make it just too easy to get out. An overnight stop at King River roadside rest area then it was on to Katherine.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">With a population around 6000, Katherine is nevertheless an important town in the Northern Territory. Major routes go west to Western Australia, south to Alice Springs or Brisbane, or north to Darwin, some 320kms farther. We booked three nights at a local caravan park, drove in, and almost bumped into a French girl we'd met at Ross River. We'd given her a lift to Alice Springs and said our goodbyes there. She was hurrying to get to Darwin for work. She had got a lift, but at Katherine the van had broken down and she was desperately trying to text us to see if she join us again. Her text came through just as we saw each other, so it was hugs all round. She joined us for our journey to Darwin. </span></span> </div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3BnZ9OdofUkDBvX2D3nmuCxgS47Y2fQIzRjfTAQUZrPOYgdFw3BK8D7ISkhJt_o0T2kTlHwx02JskHFXVCGGoyQhTs-UCV6hmwJMcFg-RRWsoGPiHtlcKBbrM0E9Fl5udrDfIb86KDI/s1600/SAM_1150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3BnZ9OdofUkDBvX2D3nmuCxgS47Y2fQIzRjfTAQUZrPOYgdFw3BK8D7ISkhJt_o0T2kTlHwx02JskHFXVCGGoyQhTs-UCV6hmwJMcFg-RRWsoGPiHtlcKBbrM0E9Fl5udrDfIb86KDI/s320/SAM_1150.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katherine Gorge</td></tr>
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</div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">The broken down van belonged to two long-faced German girls. They had been told the alternator needed replacing but the only fault I found was a loose battery which every so often shorted out against the van body – easily fixed. As a test drive, the next day we all went to Katherine Gorge National Park, some 25kms east of Katherine. Endowed with rugged gorges, thousands of bats, kangaroos, snakes and crocodiles, the area is spectacular and well worth the drive. The five of us opted to walk some 30 minutes to the lookout, which gave a wonderful vista over the first gorge. In the 35 degree heat, we decided to not walk to the next gorge, some 7 kms further in. There's thirteen gorges in this national park. (The fixed van performed well, and our delighted German girls drove on to Darwin the next day.)</span></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOsAPRuJEOAo00BDNzXYJ79wJCgMK2DUgttGcWdz8kLIri_9g9C-Apna7z2zh8n4c5EJCxkEvXR9Zckfqza6zelz69XVsQ6_6aZEFg2OAItDitZX_uPNUXGA3cyrr6div1ijxvzdzoMNU/s1600/SAM_1170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOsAPRuJEOAo00BDNzXYJ79wJCgMK2DUgttGcWdz8kLIri_9g9C-Apna7z2zh8n4c5EJCxkEvXR9Zckfqza6zelz69XVsQ6_6aZEFg2OAItDitZX_uPNUXGA3cyrr6div1ijxvzdzoMNU/s320/SAM_1170.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Mindil Beach sunset, Darwin</span></td></tr>
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</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Darwin</b></span><br />
From Katherine, it was but a short 200km hop to our next overnight stop at Adelaide River. Though just a whistle-stop town, Adelaide River is home to the Northern Territory's Commonwealth War Graves, final resting place of the hundreds of military personnel who died defending this part of Australia during WW2. </span></span> </div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-yE64N7925JSwx6l-HNafleeECVkbySWIwRjGPEnkWEVW25eHmelOBp0_5lyXkrtKackph2zbK7Pjpz-X0Gu51K1AllFq-kLJrLgTh9wZXkYXqa05QrOyK-Vab1BBt5pGx-6gvzPQ8uo/s1600/SAM_1164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-yE64N7925JSwx6l-HNafleeECVkbySWIwRjGPEnkWEVW25eHmelOBp0_5lyXkrtKackph2zbK7Pjpz-X0Gu51K1AllFq-kLJrLgTh9wZXkYXqa05QrOyK-Vab1BBt5pGx-6gvzPQ8uo/s320/SAM_1164.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Darwin Beach and harbour</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Then it was on to Darwin arriving there on a 34 degree last day of August. First visit was to the Mindil Beach Sunset Markets, on Thursday nights. This is a colourful mass of music, entertainment and food stalls bordering the beach. The outstanding moment was perhaps the sunset over Darwin Harbour. Most market-goers, perhaps 800, walked the few metres to the beach to sit on the dunes as the setting sun turned the sky deep red, the sea afire with shimmering ripples of golden light, ending only where the last wavelets touched the shore. Add to this the two didgeridoo players who decided playing to a packed beach crowd was better than playing to an empty market and you get some idea. The sun dipped below the horizon, the sky went through purple to indigo, people roused themselves from the dunes and went back to the markets, now ablaze in colourful night lights.</span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaIMtXKvjr4MyWMpiTHLh9Dlk6RRYPMBKd9J47kUAlFj5zUonBeR0NNqjeLWmFN_6sxvN5naarpYovx9a5El2y5qQdz7tl7YbLmgCXGp0k8QliapODSilD7Di_qS5V2gN8117D_jqErqM/s1600/SDC11468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaIMtXKvjr4MyWMpiTHLh9Dlk6RRYPMBKd9J47kUAlFj5zUonBeR0NNqjeLWmFN_6sxvN5naarpYovx9a5El2y5qQdz7tl7YbLmgCXGp0k8QliapODSilD7Di_qS5V2gN8117D_jqErqM/s320/SDC11468.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Crocodylus Park</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Another day was to Crocodylus Park, which contains over 1500 salt water crocodiles, some bred there, others rogue crocodiles brought in from outlying areas, including one found in Darwin Harbour. Feeding them close up gives you a healthy respect for these reptiles. Handling a baby crocodile, with its mouth conveniently taped up was a unique experience. There's other crocodile attractions in Darwin: Crocosaurus Cove, or several river boat cruises to see the jumping crocs. With few other tourist attractions, Darwin is a place you go to “'cos it's there.” It has some small museums, art galleries and several historic sites from the 2<sup>nd</sup> World War days, when it was attacked more than sixty times by Japanese aircraft.</span></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaXpksFlzt7gKPcs6fQZQqLIlwp_8ssgfUgDAd5u00Uwp5wFt5QMy9ltF9JqsuPpZzqkmuNytm0HnmcgaWA9QeC2HtxSPJi7nJF1wqLVMV09h3Yl_MnP-PCCDYiJjxA83EXnuU3o2j-k/s1600/SAM_1230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaXpksFlzt7gKPcs6fQZQqLIlwp_8ssgfUgDAd5u00Uwp5wFt5QMy9ltF9JqsuPpZzqkmuNytm0HnmcgaWA9QeC2HtxSPJi7nJF1wqLVMV09h3Yl_MnP-PCCDYiJjxA83EXnuU3o2j-k/s320/SAM_1230.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Hot day in Darwin - note where the pointer is</span></td></tr>
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</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">This part of the Northern Territory is noted for having only two seasons – The Wet and The Dry. We were there in the shoulder season (known as The Build-Up) with temperatures around 33 degrees, and no rain for months. As the Build-Up continues, humidity rises until the air is heavily saturated. Late October, the monsoons arrive and The Wet starts. Darwin buildings don't have guttering. They cannot cope with the monsoon downpours. Floods close main roads, and those who elect to stay there apparently 'go troppo' in the 40 degree heat and constant rain. We were lucky, as this year's Build-Up is running late, and our days there were a comfortable dry 33 degrees. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Darwin is the terminus for The Ghan train after its three day journey from Adelaide and also a jumping off place for cheap airfares to Bali and Asia, so the city caters for the many itinerant travellers, mostly back-packers, passing through. It's a young persons city, and has a laid-back nightlife.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Kakadu National Park</b></span></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLBZF7_1FD-4grtqwXejjA1Vk9bPugV02WIvW-GDsD0hhoRJV6zGi67PX6S02HSMVAY6Osqov_6qQGWGg-iVzrjd3huW9IA7eOZmXU4nSrf0EhMCKYcsKFbTc6WKxxaqTBG_jvk5Hld58/s1600/SDC11540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLBZF7_1FD-4grtqwXejjA1Vk9bPugV02WIvW-GDsD0hhoRJV6zGi67PX6S02HSMVAY6Osqov_6qQGWGg-iVzrjd3huW9IA7eOZmXU4nSrf0EhMCKYcsKFbTc6WKxxaqTBG_jvk5Hld58/s320/SDC11540.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Overlooking Kakadu wetlands</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8WPiWMZ_xOWg1y54auVOLTugDT7yIOK9dOBT2IYsYPNybQ5QtxAVs191qnl7egTOh___DXe99sVVjsG590Q676YUOCnmYeKnj2Z8fK4yplFLVY_VQCDQKj5awxVlvrjcef7rzbtEpq4I/s1600/SDC11543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8WPiWMZ_xOWg1y54auVOLTugDT7yIOK9dOBT2IYsYPNybQ5QtxAVs191qnl7egTOh___DXe99sVVjsG590Q676YUOCnmYeKnj2Z8fK4yplFLVY_VQCDQKj5awxVlvrjcef7rzbtEpq4I/s320/SDC11543.JPG" width="320" /> </a></span></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Kakadu landscape</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">A week in Darwin, then it was on to Kakadu National Park, 250kms east of Darwin. At 130 kms to the gate, another 120kms to Kakadu's main village, Jabiru, and over 20000 kms square, this is the largest park in Australia and only slightly smaller than Belgium. Distances here are colossal – 40 or 50 kms between sights is normal. Raewyn took a 30 minute plane flight over a very small portion of the park, seeing vast escarpments and the huge wetlands in the local area. We then visited Ubirr, where the park borders Arnhemland. Here are Aboriginal rock paintings, believed thousands of years old. At Ubirr, the East Alligator River separates Kakadu from Arnhemland. About 100 metres long, a concrete causeway joins the two riverbanks,allowing vehicles to cross. Upstream from this causeway, the muddy crocodile infested river flows deep. The river is only inches deep over the causeway to the tidal downstream side. From a viewing area, we watched as around five crocodiles lazily floated upstream, heads barely above the water. Apparently, for every crocodile one sees, another six are below the water. They're waiting for any fish which wanders into their territory – or any person who decides to walk across the causeway Signs warn people to not attempt the crossing, but sadly some have, with obvious results.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Litchfield National Park</b></span></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDPX1P6FrHEbAqheIznMJe6yYkk0R5FtpXIssLo7-vh3T7BIt45C73JEm7NJjAb7fYRcRdtrTTIeLGxcaT3VnaKmYB2pTR1m4q2XM9DfbaX-etyLNBRRbTmwr6zNBxnI4p4eS8paTLbtw/s1600/SDC11565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDPX1P6FrHEbAqheIznMJe6yYkk0R5FtpXIssLo7-vh3T7BIt45C73JEm7NJjAb7fYRcRdtrTTIeLGxcaT3VnaKmYB2pTR1m4q2XM9DfbaX-etyLNBRRbTmwr6zNBxnI4p4eS8paTLbtw/s320/SDC11565.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Swimming at Wangi Falls, Litchfield Nat Park</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">With most Kakadu waterfalls dried up, and humidity increasing in The Build-Up, we stayed only two nights before heading back toward Katherine, via a two-night side trip to Lichfield National Park, south of Darwin. Not far within the park are huge magnetic termite mounds, some up to 5 metres high. These slab-shaped mounds have their narrowest side facing north, to keep them cooler at the hottest part of each day. The road then winds some 60kms passing other features to the main attraction, Wangi Falls. Here a pleasant waterfall drops into a large lagoon safe for swimming – as long as you don't mind the fresh-water crocodiles (which for the most part are harmless).</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Katherine(again)</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Now we're back in Katherine, resting, washing and writing this blog before we travel to Western Australia, and new adventures. We hope you join us. For those interested in this part of Northern Territory, I recommend reading “We of the Never Never” by Jeannie Gunn, a delightful tale of farming in the 1900s. This book will add a new dimension to your experiences in this wonderful area.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"> </span> </div>Bryan and Raewynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12537170533561114621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010759742767717076.post-61555357694650486122011-09-05T23:28:00.000-07:002011-09-05T23:28:19.361-07:00Mt Isa - Alice Springs<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Australia August 2011</b></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Travelogue 10</b></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Stage 2 Mt Isa – Alice Springs</b></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNcxm3lqum_1Y1hvyItzPvCYp7T689p9pTXWCUjQrtHIhHhlmk2IT88JHbhPwjlfuTQX67eCmvDAiDhlGVDqnMw2Xb1S_kCmH-WYGL0RffLC-kGZ6jlcs80moJnbh19QZ3Y0a1ihQiHo/s1600/SAM_0815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Print;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">from Bryan and Raewyn</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Print;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Email: <a href="mailto:bryan.raewyn@yahoo.co.nz">bryan.raewyn@yahoo.co.nz</a></span></span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Web: austadventures.blogspot.com</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Camooweal</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Our last newsletter (#9) was from the mining city of Mt Isa, in western Queensland, where we stayed a week with our nephew and his family. After our goodbyes, we again moved westward and some eight hours later arrived at the tiny outback town of Camooweal, just east of the Northern Territory border. We'd been recommended a camp site there, beside the Georgina River. A wide grassy area on the riverbank became our charming home for the next two nights.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">In winter (as now) the Georgina River dries to a series of long food-rich lagoons, haven to thousands of birds. Ducks, shags, tall brolgas, graceful egrets, swift kites and many others which we couldn't name surround the lagoons. Late each afternoon, birdwatching was a pastime enjoyed by the many campers along the river bank. Kites would swoop down beside us, grab unlucky fish in their talons and fly off into the blue sky in one movement, gulp it down, then turn for another swoop. Luckily, the 1.5 metre high brolgas on the opposite river bank stayed there – these birds, similar to a small emu, are quite aggressive and can kick and bite if approached. Sunrise each morning was a pink glow reflected in the lagoons, lasting only a few minutes before exploding into another clear blue day. A kilometre up the road was “Drovers Camp” where the locals have an exhibition hall recalling the old droving days, a credit to the efforts of the local community in this isolated spot.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Three Ways</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Crossing into the Northern Territory on the 29<sup>th</sup> July, it still took two days to reach Three Ways, a renowned tiny dot on the Australian map. Here, you have a choice of going, well, three ways. Back east, some 500kms behind us, was Mt Isa. North some 1100kms away lay Darwin, and south 500kms distant was Alice Springs.Extremely long and almost straight flat roads led in each direction and small shrubs and rusty grasses covered the stony country to the flat horizon, about 50kms distant. From there, a brilliant blue sky soared above us, untouched by even a cloud. It was then a realisation that the vastness of this country can only be felt, not photographed. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNcxm3lqum_1Y1hvyItzPvCYp7T689p9pTXWCUjQrtHIhHhlmk2IT88JHbhPwjlfuTQX67eCmvDAiDhlGVDqnMw2Xb1S_kCmH-WYGL0RffLC-kGZ6jlcs80moJnbh19QZ3Y0a1ihQiHo/s1600/SAM_0815.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNcxm3lqum_1Y1hvyItzPvCYp7T689p9pTXWCUjQrtHIhHhlmk2IT88JHbhPwjlfuTQX67eCmvDAiDhlGVDqnMw2Xb1S_kCmH-WYGL0RffLC-kGZ6jlcs80moJnbh19QZ3Y0a1ihQiHo/s400/SAM_0815.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Raewyn between the rocks, Devils Marbles</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Having been to Alice Springs in the 'Ghan' train last year for three nights meant <span style="font-style: normal;"> 'we didn't have to go back there as it was so far off our intended route.</span><i>'</i> But, after a short discussion at Three Ways, knowing we were 'only 500kms from Alice' we decided to go again. First stop was 23kms down the road at Tennant Creek to refuel and stock up, then onto an overnight stay at Bonny's Well, some 90kms farther south.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgocff3GNfWwDgjdwN7mhnATTK6bx7C4aSySLJbUkafL7AHbWfvWfyV_Ml-ZPCwG3wtK9BOsQHFSb0WE0yaLLX6qGo9ujRLuMuLs9e_yLsTYaNGoiit44lkNE0k5d1czp3HV17XZ1sQk2k/s1600/SAM_0841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgocff3GNfWwDgjdwN7mhnATTK6bx7C4aSySLJbUkafL7AHbWfvWfyV_Ml-ZPCwG3wtK9BOsQHFSb0WE0yaLLX6qGo9ujRLuMuLs9e_yLsTYaNGoiit44lkNE0k5d1czp3HV17XZ1sQk2k/s400/SAM_0841.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sunset at Devils Marbles</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Devil's Marbles</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">The next night found us at Devils Marbles, a remarkable area where huge rocks balance on each other, as though some giant has been playing with blocks. Tracks led to the tops of many of these rocks. Raewyn and I got to the top of the highest rock pile and were rewarded with an uninterrupted view over the surrounding scrub-covered desert. A smoky haze from grass fires beyond the horizon filled the evening sky leading to an amazing sunset and next morning, before we left, dingoes walked nonchalantly through the camp, unafraid of any people. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><u><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPz9YPqGb2QkShED3Q1ard5kid93Mc8pTgsZsQw0pvLcokqC9ziJu3U8lPsUeiuPRjy2257qBTKLL5reyk4lb0M5qCHW5f0xVPp91HfrTkvCIBo4n7H6TSueAw-6Zgy9GR3qljJtit8u4/s1600/SAM_0830.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPz9YPqGb2QkShED3Q1ard5kid93Mc8pTgsZsQw0pvLcokqC9ziJu3U8lPsUeiuPRjy2257qBTKLL5reyk4lb0M5qCHW5f0xVPp91HfrTkvCIBo4n7H6TSueAw-6Zgy9GR3qljJtit8u4/s400/SAM_0830.JPG" width="400" /></a></u></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Devils Marbles-20m high column<u><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9x4Evz1jtuHiKAlQe2v1MdEyCTB3xCL2yoY-3t5gMdhS3VR7qrvVVWjROgRgpQWIFAfshxNkrYSHyc08q06wZCQ7lQh35K02wycx6QyrlML-v-sVgT6KccbVHEq6HskLaFabbHx9oAg/s1600/SAM_0876.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9x4Evz1jtuHiKAlQe2v1MdEyCTB3xCL2yoY-3t5gMdhS3VR7qrvVVWjROgRgpQWIFAfshxNkrYSHyc08q06wZCQ7lQh35K02wycx6QyrlML-v-sVgT6KccbVHEq6HskLaFabbHx9oAg/s400/SAM_0876.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Alice Springs from Anzac Hill, MacDonnell Ranges bey</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Alice Springs</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">A night at another rest area,Connors Well, then we reached Alice Springs on Tuesday 2<sup>nd</sup> August. Alice Springs is the iconic red heart of Australia, so we settled in for a week, visiting the School of the Air (which transmits to children on distant cattle stations,) the Flying Doctor Headquarters, other local sights and even watched the Ghan train arrive – after all, we were now locals. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">In our caravan park, we befriended a young family of four whose 4WD had broken down at Curtin springs, some 400kms west of Alice Springs. After a $1600 tow to Alice Springs and being told their vehicle might not be fixed for six of their seven weeks holiday, we took them under our wing to show them the local sights. Two days later, we all took a road trip following the eastern MacDonnell Ranges to Ross River Resort, 85kms east of Alice Springs. At the resort, it was obvious some maintenance was going on, and after a short conversation with the manager, I was offered a job as extra handyman at the resort. For 16 hours work, we were offered a week's camping plus meals, starting two days later.<sup> </sup> Fortunately, our befriended family's vehicle was fixed by then, much to their delight. It meant they could pick up their 4WD before we left them to start work at the resort </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizTXdc39hR0Hxg9EHud07L43_Q56d7wdD3146VXldrdCoyBUj6FGodJIeo_PCm2ntdzTrRsSBbW8AZKenHyAEIfU7AR0_T-dunT4lLfGITVq65luv1pvCYnV0-eoCuV3_j55fUoNT5MOY/s1600/SAM_0959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizTXdc39hR0Hxg9EHud07L43_Q56d7wdD3146VXldrdCoyBUj6FGodJIeo_PCm2ntdzTrRsSBbW8AZKenHyAEIfU7AR0_T-dunT4lLfGITVq65luv1pvCYnV0-eoCuV3_j55fUoNT5MOY/s400/SAM_0959.JPG" width="400" /></a></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> Kings Canyon</b></span> </span></span> </div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhREDYbZJQ-d3zDpH7eITwC6EqXQlr9uAD5T9fQRWCQkwpbQf2YXULbcI1u4HV66SYY79ZR1FFDBb8dxtsCnDCJL0a_fl-YOpYDg8uwamj7c4dYEkBGDcPEOktvNVyI6fCmLax2gC9CgfE/s1600/SAM_0917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhREDYbZJQ-d3zDpH7eITwC6EqXQlr9uAD5T9fQRWCQkwpbQf2YXULbcI1u4HV66SYY79ZR1FFDBb8dxtsCnDCJL0a_fl-YOpYDg8uwamj7c4dYEkBGDcPEOktvNVyI6fCmLax2gC9CgfE/s400/SAM_0917.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Holidaymakers at Kings Canyon</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table> <span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">A highlight at Alice Springs was a bus tour on Tues 9<sup>th</sup> August with our new family to Kings Canyon, only 480kms each way. The bus picked us up at 6,30am, and the 3 hour hike around the tops of this ancient horseshoe-shaped canyon meant all our muscles were tested, though the views were unsurpassed, and whitewashed ghost gums contrasted with the rustic rock strewn background. We were back at the caravan park at 11.30pm that night, tired but happy. Next day was a rest day – if washing and shopping are considered rests. </span></span> <br />
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</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Ross River Resort</b></span> </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEv4XMeNrw64QCI506uDI0C2NT2415LvCfamKZHpYbqc48LVNXA5l31NJOoRy0eNi-8y9NBapp7ae5cAAKxLR6vq6T8NlhRMslmlM3WNwk62v9XO20nxYb1JRJA3mcdgMP5cNP9N3mwo/s1600/SAM_1036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEv4XMeNrw64QCI506uDI0C2NT2415LvCfamKZHpYbqc48LVNXA5l31NJOoRy0eNi-8y9NBapp7ae5cAAKxLR6vq6T8NlhRMslmlM3WNwk62v9XO20nxYb1JRJA3mcdgMP5cNP9N3mwo/s400/SAM_1036.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ross River landscape</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShZ8QfxjM7grRvLQ2TdfGLe20DvhpRdDLbYhBJy_dJPorhuDQXhcupNdijJ-w_saaN89Ikxo0YMohwQ8GeqbakYm_mGCcVOB1sb4MbeY_E9oxetB1qjprr_vzk0pQDCTAQehjWF3nJZU/s1600/SAM_1067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShZ8QfxjM7grRvLQ2TdfGLe20DvhpRdDLbYhBJy_dJPorhuDQXhcupNdijJ-w_saaN89Ikxo0YMohwQ8GeqbakYm_mGCcVOB1sb4MbeY_E9oxetB1qjprr_vzk0pQDCTAQehjWF3nJZU/s400/SAM_1067.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ross River- we had to cross this twice a day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">We'd wanted to stay near Alice Springs for the annual Henley-on-Todd Regatta a week later, so going to Ross River Resort was an economic move, rather than stay in the Alice Springs caravan park. Thursday 11<sup>th</sup> August, we shifted to the resort, the last 200 metres driving across an almost dry sandy Ross River to reach our camp ground. That afternoon we started work, helping re-clad and paint several forlorn cabins The rule was if the stress level reached 0.5, we'd all stop for a cuppa. Leaving our camp ground, even to 'work', meant crossing the wide Ross River, driving through water for the last 15 metres. We became quite adept at driving across the sand, though others came to grief.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"> <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">We worked on and off for the next ten days, and used our off-time visiting local sights such as Altunga, an old gold-mining area where tunnels riddle the ground and many of the old stone buildings have been authentically reconstructed. Some mines have been reopened for exploring by sightseers. It's a tough countryside here. Fresh water is close to non-existent, the air hot, the ground hard and unforgiving. Some mining families walked over 600kms to reach Altunga, which in the 1800s was bigger than Alice Springs– very few walked out any richer, and many died and are buried in the local rusting cemetery, last vestiges of the graves barely seen. </span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcY2cjqoUd5RUBnuJP8CaoWAIfJkOaZbh_xJrmAC1mnBTBvdgZTUlta6iQnvOe6PFehkP0K7Dmv0_oW2OOrO6LDBYJBC7Tl4W8qvTnPYhsaaD4uTNlN3a5gnCxH7LyHEGmJ0tl9LlIDwA/s1600/SAM_1087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcY2cjqoUd5RUBnuJP8CaoWAIfJkOaZbh_xJrmAC1mnBTBvdgZTUlta6iQnvOe6PFehkP0K7Dmv0_oW2OOrO6LDBYJBC7Tl4W8qvTnPYhsaaD4uTNlN3a5gnCxH7LyHEGmJ0tl9LlIDwA/s400/SAM_1087.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henley-on-Todd River Race</td></tr>
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</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Henley-on-Todd</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1sJwI8Wuzy2s5HkECWLpHVzexck3TbZrEWY-d6KW5doAQuJb230a-MvGBMO0SicBJvAQU90URPWefgbTRBrsunBYyLA5ILXDL512aenWhcmoOyp3T2aJ_5uqvb05s_MULi1nBfHqImmQ/s1600/SAM_1090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1sJwI8Wuzy2s5HkECWLpHVzexck3TbZrEWY-d6KW5doAQuJb230a-MvGBMO0SicBJvAQU90URPWefgbTRBrsunBYyLA5ILXDL512aenWhcmoOyp3T2aJ_5uqvb05s_MULi1nBfHqImmQ/s400/SAM_1090.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the big boats-armed and ready to battle</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU_nmGEU4xj1a11tsbNbGeL6cR9GrZAvosvVmmZyadB3GXKvyEo70l5q9mlShtJGjVY8ldEYZTyNmd_8xQ4BdZTaA7yyVGSqEZkjmXUV6u1X1_ZY2TqjBjaixeTZAHNmpUT-295iFXcaA/s1600/SAM_1102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">The “Henley-On-Todd” is a famous boat race held annually in Alice Springs. This year, August 20th was its 50<sup>th</sup> anniversary. The problem with these races is for most of each year, the Todd River, which runs through Alice Springs, is totally dry. This small problem is overcome by not having a bottom on the boats, instead the various crews using their feet to run along the riverbed while trying to remain within the boat sides. As you can imagine, it's a hilarious load of fun, many boats 'sinking' when they turn. The kayaks have their own course – rails laid along the sand, on which they slide. Their oar is a shovel, which is used to paddle through the sand. The finale is the Battle of the Boats, in which three very large 'boats' – a galleon, Viking boat and naval destroyer, each powered by a hidden 4WD vehicle, battle it out for supremacy. Each scurvy crew of eight has high-pressured water 'guns', several flour cannons some containing more than just flour, water balloons, and other secretive weapons. The result is a mad-cap battle in which nobody wins, but all (including some in the audience) are covered in an assortment of water, mud, food colouring and above all, grinning like Cheshire cats.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Alice Springs Again</b></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU_nmGEU4xj1a11tsbNbGeL6cR9GrZAvosvVmmZyadB3GXKvyEo70l5q9mlShtJGjVY8ldEYZTyNmd_8xQ4BdZTaA7yyVGSqEZkjmXUV6u1X1_ZY2TqjBjaixeTZAHNmpUT-295iFXcaA/s1600/SAM_1102.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU_nmGEU4xj1a11tsbNbGeL6cR9GrZAvosvVmmZyadB3GXKvyEo70l5q9mlShtJGjVY8ldEYZTyNmd_8xQ4BdZTaA7yyVGSqEZkjmXUV6u1X1_ZY2TqjBjaixeTZAHNmpUT-295iFXcaA/s400/SAM_1102.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raewyn at Ormiston Gorge, West MacDonnell Ranges</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">After our time at Ross River, we again shifted back to Alice Springs for two nights, using the day between to drive some 425kms on a round route this time following the West MacDonnell Ranges through Ormiston Gorge, Glen Helen, and Hermannsburg. These names might mean little to many people, but knowing this day trip included 70kms of unsealed roads might give some idea of the isolation of these places. Flanking us most of the way, the saw-toothed MacDonnell Ranges were a rugged display of 400 million years old rock outcrops, hot,dry, and desolate in the day's sun. Yet every so often, a river would break through the ranges and form gorges of refreshing water. These oases would have an abundance of green trees and animals, in contrast to the desert like conditions close by. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Notes</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Roadside reserves</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">The roadside reserves where we often overnight are a boon for travellers, Many have toilets,barbecues, picnic tables, water, and rubbish bins. Late each afternoon, anywhere from around four to perhaps forty or more caravans/motorhomes pull into these sites and set up a mini-village for the night. Like ships passing, friendships are made and tips passed on. Next morning, it empties again. The reserves are quite safe with few snakes about, but some are infested with mice. You soon learn to not park too near any high grass, as the mice like to get into a warm motor to chew the wiring.</span></span><br />
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</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Driving in Northern Territory</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Driving here is unlike any other state in Australia. Once out of main towns, the speed limit for all vehicles is usually 130 kph, but several vehicles travel faster than this, including road-trains carrying three or four trailers. Most sealed highways are long, almost flat, and often almost dead straight for perhaps forty or fifty kilometres. Far from boring, the scenery changes subtly, from desert to green foliage or burnt trees. At this time of year, much of the countryside is being deliberately burned to get rid of the half-metre high dry grasses. This helps stop major fires from lightning strikes in summer storms, should the grass grow much higher. Smoky haze fills the air for thousands of hectares. We've driven through a couple of fire fronts, with flames beside the road. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"> <span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Overnight, the roads are best left to the huge rumbling 53 metre long road-trains. It's safer for smaller vehicles to stay off the road at night. Many large wild animals- camels,emus, kangaroos,cattle, horses- wander onto the roads at night. The road-trains don't slow down, and with their huge roo-bars, several animals are killed each night. The eagles, falcons and crows don't mind and each morning it's a feast of road-kill meat for all of them. </span></span><br />
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</div>Bryan and Raewynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12537170533561114621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010759742767717076.post-62038487253956786222011-07-25T18:55:00.000-07:002011-07-26T05:58:53.699-07:00Australian Adventures (9) July11<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Australia July 2011</b></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Travelogue 9 Stage 2 </b></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Daintree – Mt Isa</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Print;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">from Bryan and Raewyn</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Print;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Email: <a href="mailto:bryan.raewyn@yahoo.co.nz">bryan.raewyn@yahoo.co.nz</a></span></span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Web: austadventures.blogspot.com</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large; text-decoration: none;"><b>Daintree</b></span> </span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbYTgBRB5cHA8EXXfrM-Jta79lZTPp1ncLzPWkoHjEqGWLKuehnJTJqZDDJGZdIp4xY-6STNVCX5BTB_GAyvp_61sswebM9kj2vtz8SEby5CFSyG-ja3lJl33bpf4FhzCzGZquhVvc3bE/s1600/SDC11179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Our last travelogue (#8) saw our arrival at a friend's property, in the world-heritage Daintree Rainforest area on the north-eastern part of Queensland's coast. Fifty kilometres south was Port Douglas, an upmarket resort area with boutique shops and cafes. Fifty kilometres north, after a roped-ferry crossing across the crocodile-inhabited Daintree River, was Cape Tribulation, where the rainforest meets the sea. This was as far north as we got. After two </span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpuMGorShVjRtsctL1R1y2N2dUR3G1pK6lLqKaXb_caDe_xWwFHYwQAgnIv54SDtZJec5eG3PFUaNlYibJ1ye9XmflRn55uZGw2XjY312nvx33fidMrubWxVBwySkORlFTnhcLFlbK4c/s1600/SAM_0694.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">and a half wonderful weeks in Daintree, it was time to move away from the coastline which had accompanied us from Melbourne, so on July 6<sup>th</sup> we headed inland, away from the coast. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg43uFB5RKdc6FXVk2HlQgzY1MhgtsTcJtnqGgtS0GOU6CeGJ941ReoJZqkOpuqQun9w5YPCu-yFYZwvuLUQdMUmSvtDG5y5dLsqqN3e1yiWIZKPKKwN6Um4DFZC6tfmdFp83miEAHPNVg/s1600/SAM_0655.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg43uFB5RKdc6FXVk2HlQgzY1MhgtsTcJtnqGgtS0GOU6CeGJ941ReoJZqkOpuqQun9w5YPCu-yFYZwvuLUQdMUmSvtDG5y5dLsqqN3e1yiWIZKPKKwN6Um4DFZC6tfmdFp83miEAHPNVg/s320/SAM_0655.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rasewyn photographs the Kuranda train</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Mareeba</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Our drive took us through Mossman, then west across the Great Dividing Range. This range almost parallels the east coast from the northern tip of Australia to Victoria. East of the range is 90% of Australia's population. West of it is the other 10%. Atop the range, and midway across the rolling green Atherton Tablelands is Mareeba, a charming country town with a delightful caravan park in the rodeo grounds. We spent five days there, exploring local towns and sights, including driving again to Kuranda, the tourist town </span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">near Cairns. This time, </span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">instead of our taking the “Skyway” gondola back to Cairns, we waited until 3.30pm and watched the last train leave. Within minutes, the roller doors came down across most of the shop fronts and the town became deserted, except for a few rumpty locals. The town seemed to have ceased to exist, or at least until the next morning when more hordes of tourists arrived </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiI87R9cFmlum8TX70LYw8oP6SuMlF2AAvES_GH2X8ecZhKIA2NZSwkwaN9IbGET_xGDwb7-ywiZMnyJsjlS_a-OBK1t3oiRWB-eYnEsoPMdQ9sS8L0eXNhVnEexmE1kPyTLUojEapvuQ/s1600/SAM_0661.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiI87R9cFmlum8TX70LYw8oP6SuMlF2AAvES_GH2X8ecZhKIA2NZSwkwaN9IbGET_xGDwb7-ywiZMnyJsjlS_a-OBK1t3oiRWB-eYnEsoPMdQ9sS8L0eXNhVnEexmE1kPyTLUojEapvuQ/s320/SAM_0661.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bryan straddles the Gulflander train at Croydon</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Croydon</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbVRm864gffIJVrvaZ2ZXGnjvAGcSkPkcr6yP7XUlP3qNccp-ikw5TdaXZ62Jh-c0klChwOd-pKn5LTUarxIpWAvRKAo21DI3VXA6pHtf6Gm4eKIsOWvZ5tW722KHzBoSLy41vWXdUR5g/s1600/SAM_0667.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbVRm864gffIJVrvaZ2ZXGnjvAGcSkPkcr6yP7XUlP3qNccp-ikw5TdaXZ62Jh-c0klChwOd-pKn5LTUarxIpWAvRKAo21DI3VXA6pHtf6Gm4eKIsOWvZ5tW722KHzBoSLy41vWXdUR5g/s320/SAM_0667.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Croydon's main street</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrK1hefFPtEkIm9aaTINTmEcFakWQbV94lJabMuZ8IPCl14ux54TkyZmkJRpzyoeQsJWqdligOqwyoVXTkChmE7WZxAImpNEuZh6Mb8NWYkiq10sClFwuiDXr0XMu85AZTPu7LthwHT0o/s1600/SAM_0668.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrK1hefFPtEkIm9aaTINTmEcFakWQbV94lJabMuZ8IPCl14ux54TkyZmkJRpzyoeQsJWqdligOqwyoVXTkChmE7WZxAImpNEuZh6Mb8NWYkiq10sClFwuiDXr0XMu85AZTPu7LthwHT0o/s320/SAM_0668.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Croydon cemetery</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">From Mareeba, travelling westward took us off the tablelands, into the true Queensland </span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">outback. A hot, dry 280kms drive along the Savannah Way, the road bordered with rust-coloured grassland and small trees, took us to an overnight stop at Mt Surprise. Next day another 260kms drive west across the sunburned landscape found us in Croydon, and a 120 year step back in history. The local general store in this old gold-mining town opened in 1884, and is still operating today, both as a store and living museum. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Many town buildings have been renovated and reopened in their original livery, complete with displays and photographs from the late1800s. Close by, the Croydon cemetery spoke silent tears of the hardships faced by the long-gone families, and children, in this dry unforgiving landscape. Many of the rusting graves hold conch shells, some virtually undisturbed since they were placed there in the late1800s. In the Chinese section, stones inscribed with Chinese symbols lie at the foot of each grave, and lizard tracks cross the red dust between the rows, separating Chinese from Catholic, Catholic from Presbyterian, rich from the poor. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Croydon is also the eastern terminus for the heritage-listed “Gulflander Raillcar,” a weekly 'service' from Normanton, 140 kms away. The 2-car 'railmotor' takes an incredible five hours to make the journey at a hair-raising speed of 40kmph across the scorched landscape. It returns to Normanton the next day. That's it for the week. It's been doing this for 120 years, and big celebrations were afoot in Croydon to celebrate the occasion later in July – unfortunately after we had left.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Leichhardt’s Lagoon</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpuMGorShVjRtsctL1R1y2N2dUR3G1pK6lLqKaXb_caDe_xWwFHYwQAgnIv54SDtZJec5eG3PFUaNlYibJ1ye9XmflRn55uZGw2XjY312nvx33fidMrubWxVBwySkORlFTnhcLFlbK4c/s1600/SAM_0694.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpuMGorShVjRtsctL1R1y2N2dUR3G1pK6lLqKaXb_caDe_xWwFHYwQAgnIv54SDtZJec5eG3PFUaNlYibJ1ye9XmflRn55uZGw2XjY312nvx33fidMrubWxVBwySkORlFTnhcLFlbK4c/s320/SAM_0694.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leichhardts Lagoon sunset</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiIXU71EH1UCmwlcwyWuLy6BUX8W1jMq7AkiuwAylALXSHKH-WvO2UmWfsbUL3hcrzCYCt_fVKRUx3JVlqYEkVPIwwkEn-nTZcZmE7A7KyLqukJIJqpFq9hB_Gplo9spNfYuq2HspPqrE/s1600/SAM_0701.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiIXU71EH1UCmwlcwyWuLy6BUX8W1jMq7AkiuwAylALXSHKH-WvO2UmWfsbUL3hcrzCYCt_fVKRUx3JVlqYEkVPIwwkEn-nTZcZmE7A7KyLqukJIJqpFq9hB_Gplo9spNfYuq2HspPqrE/s320/SAM_0701.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leichhardt's Lagoon camp-note the dust</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Several caravanners had recommended a unique camp called Leichhardt’s Lagoon,</span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"> our next stop. On a private station, our site overlooked a large lake where sunset each night was a scarlet sky deepening to a maroon glow before clusters of stars filled the night sky, much of this reflected in the lake. Though still 27 kms from Normanton,and with no electricity supplied, we stayed four nights. Camp fires and pets were allowed, and the ablutions block with its corrugated iron walls, gas-heated hot water, and green tree frogs commonly in </span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">the toilet bowls added to the novelty. Washing machines were “Free - Just bring your own generator” and the local telephone booth was a plastic chair and a tall booster-aerial wire – 'bring your own phone and connect up.'</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The reason to not swim at Leichhardt's Lagoon</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Each night was 'happy hour' at the caretakers' caravan- take your own chair and drinks. On Saturday nights a 3-course meal was prepared by the station owners at their homestead grounds on the other side of the lagoon. Soup, mains and dessert all for $5 each, proceeds donated to the Royal Flying Doctor Service. Just bring your own chairs, table, drinks, plates, cutlery and insect repellent'</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhByLQI6ON4bwdNvxKD9abhMRYbZldXaxLre64Ml5KLyJANErHVEhD52ZUfrfApxi4LlAErOL6LNr9l-Cdqe56x-6dg-74wjGOMN-rE_mmIMPRiM0LEJI_3NG3cmlol58hTmfXnnON_PJY/s1600/SAM_0675.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhByLQI6ON4bwdNvxKD9abhMRYbZldXaxLre64Ml5KLyJANErHVEhD52ZUfrfApxi4LlAErOL6LNr9l-Cdqe56x-6dg-74wjGOMN-rE_mmIMPRiM0LEJI_3NG3cmlol58hTmfXnnON_PJY/s320/SAM_0675.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Life size model of crococodile shot near Normanton,Qld</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Some 27kms west of our camp was Normanton, western terminus for the “Gulflander” and gateway to the Gulf of Carpentaria. About 73 kms north, the sealed road ended at the small town of Karumba - interestingly the only sealed road to the coast on</span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"> the western side of Queensland. Karumba is fish, fish and more fish. If you're not into </span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">fishing, there's little else to do. Some folk go there year after year. A day at Karumba was enough to satisfy our curiosity, and we drove the 100kms back to our camp at the lagoon, just in time for happy hour, of course.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhH9cxHqIoOA0jT5sfTVU8fYFTknRlOh6ka42rVYkfoUHj67d9k0aqs7WaQ9OEwCVz1Ubl3d7kLVLWNQ0nU1eLxKtm4qhh6R_YUJ5px88tEI5ICwWzjzbqa0VEKKoepnlubzSI4lNNMVQ/s1600/SAM_0734.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhH9cxHqIoOA0jT5sfTVU8fYFTknRlOh6ka42rVYkfoUHj67d9k0aqs7WaQ9OEwCVz1Ubl3d7kLVLWNQ0nU1eLxKtm4qhh6R_YUJ5px88tEI5ICwWzjzbqa0VEKKoepnlubzSI4lNNMVQ/s320/SAM_0734.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt Isa from lookout</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Mt Isa</b></span> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Tuesday July 19<sup>th ,</sup>we left Leichhardt's Lagoon, headed south, and followed the Matilda Highway through Burke and Wills Junction to Cloncurry and Mt Isa, overnighting along the way at “Terry Smith Lookout” a small roadside reserve, where amazingly another twenty or so caravans or motor-homes pulled in for the night.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">There's no doubt the famed annual “Grey Nomads” migration is well under way. It's suggested each winter some 60,000 “grey nomads” from Victoria and South Australia make the pilgrimage to the warmer north, and the inland roads abound with herds of them travelling in their mobile homes in various directions. Nightfall sees instant small towns created in roadside reserves, then dissipating the following morning. We are part of it, and it's a great experience.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Wednesday July 20<sup>th</sup> we arrived at our nephew's property in Mt Isa. We had been out of phone contact for the previous ten days, and on arrival had several messages awaiting us. Sadly, one of them was that our very dear friend and long time caravanning buddy, Ron Martis, had suddenly died in Rotorua, New Zealand the previous day (Tuesday 19<sup>th</sup>). Some of the places we visited in Australia were on his recommendation. The rest of the day was spent in limbo, and though we tried, we couldn't make it to the funeral, but managed to watch the service via Skype, courtesy of our daughters. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBcJm7JVh79ULc8b5NdRjl9U9b4ylA8hEg5KL02DztN6CP7PKy2t22wTsNTMZKS2uAbBa-QC_6gMRID8UoFcKq5HEwxNnhmv2jNsgAZZ78S_CSDD1MqOxTP9hNTMKzgB5nv0INAyIs3e0/s1600/SAM_0738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBcJm7JVh79ULc8b5NdRjl9U9b4ylA8hEg5KL02DztN6CP7PKy2t22wTsNTMZKS2uAbBa-QC_6gMRID8UoFcKq5HEwxNnhmv2jNsgAZZ78S_CSDD1MqOxTP9hNTMKzgB5nv0INAyIs3e0/s320/SAM_0738.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Moondurra, 18kms from Mt Isa</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Mt Isa, with a population around 20,000, exists mostly to serve the huge mining complex on the western edge of the city. Tall chimneys dominate the landscape. Some 450kms of tunnels honeycomb the 27 levels underground. 18 kms away is Lake Moondarra, an artificially created lake supplying an increasing demand for water in this alien landscape. Anywhere out of the city, the landscape turns again to semi-desert. Closest next town is Cloncurry, 117 kms eastward. Mt Isa is an oasis of energy in an ancient land. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Attached to the Tourist Centre, is the “Hard Luck” mine, an experience created solely for visitors. A miners' lift lowers two floors to an awaiting miners' train which takes visitors to various mining activities. All equipment, including the train, is authentic - including having to wear bright orange overalls, helmet and miner's light. Not being for the claustrophobic, Raewyn preferred to go shopping. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbYTgBRB5cHA8EXXfrM-Jta79lZTPp1ncLzPWkoHjEqGWLKuehnJTJqZDDJGZdIp4xY-6STNVCX5BTB_GAyvp_61sswebM9kj2vtz8SEby5CFSyG-ja3lJl33bpf4FhzCzGZquhVvc3bE/s1600/SDC11179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbYTgBRB5cHA8EXXfrM-Jta79lZTPp1ncLzPWkoHjEqGWLKuehnJTJqZDDJGZdIp4xY-6STNVCX5BTB_GAyvp_61sswebM9kj2vtz8SEby5CFSyG-ja3lJl33bpf4FhzCzGZquhVvc3bE/s400/SDC11179.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beware of 53 metre long road trains in Queensland outback.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Stay with us as our</span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"> next journey continues westward across this huge country.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> (Hint - double clicking on the photos above will enlarge them)</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</div>Bryan and Raewynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12537170533561114621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010759742767717076.post-84493186023106515632011-07-09T23:16:00.000-07:002011-07-09T23:25:05.810-07:00austadventures.blogspot.com(8)<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Australia June 2011</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Travelogue 8</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Stage 2 Whitsunday Islands-Daintree</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Print;">from Bryan and Raewyn Jenkins</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Print;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Email: <a href="mailto:bryan.raewyn@yahoo.co.nz">bryan.raewyn@yahoo.co.nz</a></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: blue; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Web: austadventures.blogspot.com</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large; text-decoration: none;"><b>Whitsundays</b></span> </span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZ9UnygT7-mmo6N19b12zRwIhUrMn-h55pg-cWglJHf9222XXc9aXfylpnZfd8GZcqzfiH0YiMteR-_dtbBHRWJdP2zGK-4xQVjg_5YFNNO1Hoi-ARTsLRLYM5fts2hWQDPCUgtbrask/s1600/SAM_0394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZ9UnygT7-mmo6N19b12zRwIhUrMn-h55pg-cWglJHf9222XXc9aXfylpnZfd8GZcqzfiH0YiMteR-_dtbBHRWJdP2zGK-4xQVjg_5YFNNO1Hoi-ARTsLRLYM5fts2hWQDPCUgtbrask/s320/SAM_0394.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seaflight </td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Our last travelogue (#7) saw our arrival at Airlie Beach, in the Whitsunday Islands area of the east coast of Australia. This has to be one of the most scenic parts of Australia,and a major base for cruises to the Whitsunday Islands and Great Barrier Reef. We stayed eight days and went on three cruises during that time.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Monday May 30<sup>th</sup> dawned brilliantly fine, an idyllic day. Our boat, “Seaflight” knifed across a barely rippled sea to the Great Barrier Reef. On arrival our boat tied up to a large covered pontoon, which became our base for the day. All around, the horizon was a straight line broken only by the slight peek of the Australian mainland, some 95 kilometres from where we had started. In the other direction about 200 metres away, Pacific ocean swells broke over the outer reef. The water was blue and warm, and the crew told us our day was the clearest water they'd seen for some weeks. We were in luck</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYCTQpOgHShLrZ-jUckK5jt4l9DnB3TQBS9123jZarK35pSi4YtkemtJa-7xzmfBF8uAasV6qDkigygM_NkFC4_Q5TOnH0iE4nz5s6quBQyVjG_TVh7hcpGaKXvWkvdNpN97EDk4vLKc/s1600/SAM_0384.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYCTQpOgHShLrZ-jUckK5jt4l9DnB3TQBS9123jZarK35pSi4YtkemtJa-7xzmfBF8uAasV6qDkigygM_NkFC4_Q5TOnH0iE4nz5s6quBQyVjG_TVh7hcpGaKXvWkvdNpN97EDk4vLKc/s320/SAM_0384.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gt Barrier Reef Pontoon</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">From the pontoon, one can go tripping in a glass-bottomed boat, underwater viewing in a semi-submersible, snorkelling about the reef, or at extra cost, scuba diving or a helicopter flight. We opted for the glass bottomed boat, semi-submersible and snorkelling. All snorkelling equipment is supplied, including 'noodles' to keep you afloat, plus a floating rope extending some 60 metres from the pontoon to a fixed buoy, allowing you to pull yourself along while viewing myriads of fish and coral below. It made snorkelling so easy that after a few anxious moments, we both dived in and felt at home though the water was ten metres deep. Below the surface, the reef was alive with fish of all types, and the corals amazing.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3ptp0RScTChSiv-LQMgPbjDs6ZI2TuLar25nd3fgt8Wlfbg9MmoGIehSzgxR5fu7FfNNDFCP7lqua7lzIY1EPhh4VZ139kc6GGTW_KJoIB8ITzkEtaNXz5VESnZ4KGsdwfGZp682LdA/s1600/SAM_0410.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3ptp0RScTChSiv-LQMgPbjDs6ZI2TuLar25nd3fgt8Wlfbg9MmoGIehSzgxR5fu7FfNNDFCP7lqua7lzIY1EPhh4VZ139kc6GGTW_KJoIB8ITzkEtaNXz5VESnZ4KGsdwfGZp682LdA/s320/SAM_0410.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gt Barrier Reef Pontoon (95kms from land)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Lunch was provided on the “Seaflight” (as were morning and afternoon teas) After a long and relaxing lunch, some folk preferred to laze in the sun. others took once more to the water. All up, we were at the reef about four hours.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">On the way back to port, Raewyn 'won' a free cruise for the following day on the “Camira” after a contest aboard our “Seaflight.” Rather cunning, as we then had to pay for a second ticket, but at least managed to barter the price down somewhat – it being 'winter' and the lack of tourists, etc. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">The “Camira” is a 23 metre sailing catamaran and this trip was slow and monotonous, the views restricted to one or other side of the boat at any one time. Again, all food was provided, including this time free beer and wine , a small consolation for the discomforts. The crew were excellent, if a little overworked raising and lowering sails and keeping guests from tangling themselves in the ropes and sails. The wind was barely enough to fill the sails, so the highlight was going ashore for an hour at Whitehaven Beach, on the ocean side of Whitsunday Island, while the crew prepared lunch. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxN7APqModV2SWinH6aZI1qKyowCBODsCIKHbghZKKR2wYdYnRLil1y1A8V15gvHzGwqjtziScnbwsVlmtafuCCbiT4SchWAAdaFXVwKV08W2xrZB98qSWdd0-XAYMTMrXOPlxUvD8y50/s1600/SAM_0487.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxN7APqModV2SWinH6aZI1qKyowCBODsCIKHbghZKKR2wYdYnRLil1y1A8V15gvHzGwqjtziScnbwsVlmtafuCCbiT4SchWAAdaFXVwKV08W2xrZB98qSWdd0-XAYMTMrXOPlxUvD8y50/s320/SAM_0487.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whitehaven Beach, Whitsunday Islands</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Wednesday June 1<sup>st</sup>,we went on a third cruise,this time on “Voyager”, visiting three islands in the Whitsunday group. Again, we went to Whitehaven Beach on Whitsunday Island, but stopping off on the way at Hook Island for some snorkelling off the beach, plus a semi-submersible trip along the local reef. Next stop was Whitehaven Beach. This 7 km long beach has to be the highlight of any trip to the Whitsundays. Crystal clear water lapping fine white silica sand, an azure sea beyond. As with all our time in this area, we had blue skies, and only the slightest of breezes. Postcards don't do this area justice.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">We'd also pre-arranged a short float plane flight from Whitehaven Beach, and around 1pm took off in a 50 year old single engine aircraft for a figure eight circuit around Whitsunday Island. The view from above was outstanding, and the flight all too short. Landing back in the sea was exciting stuff, a flurry of spray and we were down, smiles from ear to ear. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">From Whitehaven Beach the “Voyager” took us to Daydream Island. This is the ultimate holiday island – a five star resort with hotel, chalets, shops, pools, theatre, and no cars. Perfect for the wedding we saw taking place there. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJAHeIlqPnqkJjj2tqg4bRxLd2GN0LfPyZFt3X_8kz3YnC3VM6Tge9KHIh1qSypLFW7fo7Ko_4bnLD-vaOE-8QsIotb-mpjjlWR2g2fX6ggh30RTpUuYzqmpsijSHrrfQVqqtjdskpq4/s1600/SAM_0377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJAHeIlqPnqkJjj2tqg4bRxLd2GN0LfPyZFt3X_8kz3YnC3VM6Tge9KHIh1qSypLFW7fo7Ko_4bnLD-vaOE-8QsIotb-mpjjlWR2g2fX6ggh30RTpUuYzqmpsijSHrrfQVqqtjdskpq4/s320/SAM_0377.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Airlie Beach, Queensland</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">There's 74 islands in the Whitsundays group, and most are national parks. There is more to this area than just the islands and reef. Airlie Beach is an easy-going town, very much a back-packers paradise, the hill behind the town spills over with a plethora of apartment blocks. Close by are beautiful bays and protected inlets, many walks and other activities. Airlie Beach residents lay claim to theirs being the friendliest town on the coast, and it shows.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Bowen</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">From Airlie Beach, it was on to Bowen for three nights. Bowen's fame revolves around where the film “Australia” was shot. The jetty (in the film) is real and one can walk along it. Though most of the sets have gone, Bowen's character is still very much 1940s. It's old hotel facades and shop fronts make you feel as though you've entered a time warp. Bowen residents though are very friendly, and welcoming. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Townsville</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Next stop was Townsville, with the monolithic 285 metres high Castle Hill in the heart of the city being the main feature of the area. The steep three kilometre drive to the top is rewarded with views over Townsville to Magnetic Island some seven kilometres away. The coastline in this area, known as the Coral Coast, is dotted with islands, and there's cruises to many of them.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Mission Beach</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Moving north, we spent three nights at Mission Beach, where Cyclone Yasi made landfall in February this year. There's still a lot of damage around - houses with roofs or windows missing, and thousands of trees lying where they fell in the forests, or strewn alongside the roads and beaches. The folk there are making the best of it, but it will be a long road to recovery. Bush walks led us to a few viewpoints, where large and aggressive cassowary birds live, but we failed to spot any, though apparently they were there. Most beaches along this coast are edged with coconut palms, the nuts laying on the ground in various states of decay. Fresh nuts could be opened and eaten, but most people seemed to leave them where they fell.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cairns fruit bat (this picture is upside-down1)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Cairns</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Next stop, and last major city heading north, is Cairns. This is where we saw our first fruit <span id="goog_778585559"></span><span id="goog_778585560"></span>bats hanging by the hundreds from city trees. Only the most unwise park their cars under those trees and the paths below were littered with bat droppings.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">7kms long Kuranda Skyrail</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">The reknowned tourist feature in Cairns is the Kuranda Scenic Railway and Skyrail. The beautifully restored train leaves Cairns and winds 25kms through rugged hill country to Kuranda village, stopping on the way, for obligatory photographs, at the mighty Barron Falls. Kuranda village is the typical tourist village, with high priced food and every trinket imaginable, but our strolls around the village were rewarding. Returning to Cairns on the Skyrail is a worthy experience. The cable-car winds for 7 kms above the rainforests, taking some 35 minutes to bring us back to where our bus awaited for the return trip to our caravan park. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQD76NxxjmTKHTFuWtjFBl-ulOYleaCqmCSI3u522hqsWNVfuLcK014NOPtJE_WdzGm-DsxD-RZ7hO8_HvN9za5dn4_6ZgKe7aYklBmGv8bMGxyQQsVC-l-MApXkrxVS9gZHYM5yAYp4/s1600/SDC11086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQD76NxxjmTKHTFuWtjFBl-ulOYleaCqmCSI3u522hqsWNVfuLcK014NOPtJE_WdzGm-DsxD-RZ7hO8_HvN9za5dn4_6ZgKe7aYklBmGv8bMGxyQQsVC-l-MApXkrxVS9gZHYM5yAYp4/s320/SDC11086.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scarface-4.5mt Daintree crocodile</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b>Daintree</b></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">From Cairns, it was a quick run through on 18<sup>th</sup> June to our friends living in Daintree, far North Queensland. They live amongst the World Heritage Daintree Rainforest, not far short of the end of the sealed road. Across the road, the neighbours property backs onto the Daintree River, from where crocodile spotting cruises operate along the river. We were fortunate enough to be invited on a couple of cruises and saw about six crocs – the first few being about a metre long, the last being “Scarface”, a four-metre male. As we approached, his eyes watched our every move. You sensed there were even more eyes watching us from under the timbers, and the muddy river doesn't reveal anything below the surface – unless you jump in. *</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Our friends have just bought themselves a new 4.7metre river runabout, and one Saturday we all went on a fishing run some nine kilometres to a sandbank at the Daintree River mouth. We saw no crocodiles on the way, though on the same trip a week later, we saw three massive crocs sunning themselves at spots along the river. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">We've also visited Port Douglas, Mossman Gorge and Cape Tribulation, each a day trip. Cape Tribulation is a car-ferry ride across the Daintree River, then a 30km twisty drive through the rainforest, passing many restaurants and lodges. From Cape Tribulation, it's a 70 kms, or four hours, drive along rough tracks and river crossings to Cooktown. We gave this a miss. It was getting close to Happy Hour time.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;">Each afternoon, large bright blue Ulysses butterflies visited us. In the short rainforest twilight, wild birds visit, and on cloudless nights, the darkness opens to a garland of starlight. From here, we will be moving inland toward Mt Isa and Darwin and hope you will join us for the next part of our adventure. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Script,sans-serif;">Bryan and Raewyn </span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Script,sans-serif;">*I never thought a crocodile, would return my friendly smile</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Script,sans-serif;">But he did with a grin so wide, I think he wanted me inside </span></span></div>Bryan and Raewynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12537170533561114621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010759742767717076.post-29587894791399458312011-05-23T17:40:00.000-07:002011-05-29T04:28:41.163-07:00May 2011 (Travelogue 7) Hervey Bay-Airlie Beach<div style="font-family: inherit;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbXyPPp8SeLOVsVelFLT4lM9pjybe2u2k7Pgv88n86XmQe5XDlc6f6jrV-4AK8efb6ilxVUsw_xp6Hdsi5Di2NosBXhVtwC5nHgvaD9TPP8hCL5UmCeLfrtQRvGYexEaOVdDm9X5Ipk8/s1600/SDC10719.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbXyPPp8SeLOVsVelFLT4lM9pjybe2u2k7Pgv88n86XmQe5XDlc6f6jrV-4AK8efb6ilxVUsw_xp6Hdsi5Di2NosBXhVtwC5nHgvaD9TPP8hCL5UmCeLfrtQRvGYexEaOVdDm9X5Ipk8/s320/SDC10719.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> <i>Holidaymakers at Airlie Lagoon</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Welcome to our first' blog' page from Australia. We're now at Airlie Beach, part of the Whitsundays, about 270 kilometres south of Townsville, and 1150 kilometres north of Brisbane.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">Airlie Beach is a major gateway to the Great Barrier Reef and Whitsunday Islands, so there's a colossal number of tour options to the inner and outer reefs, and the more than seventy offshore islands. Rainforests cloak the surrounding hills, though the hill near the heart of the town is festooned with apartment buildings. There are lots of activities we hope to see and do in the next few days in this beautiful tropic area. Every day, the sea is a rich blue, and the multitude of islands offshore a deep green against a clear sky. But we digress from our last newsletter.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLCtggFTgeuTd2TEX6eLQsPRi5Bf7z4cGHX0TUtrU-PqlPXjf_DVLae0_LhY2RloHGpwVDLBH8nWv9gFuF8mfHls8mrdnmLMy3jnYU0_sgCIWKDhzelp2iguJquB0rLd4QlofSCr6vy4/s1600/SDC10723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyqrVquisTkijGlvn-I0p1cNRK0ZxbI9tsMdDQOzwBNGEpO6chvcGLOrqo8t6s_5l02oI5dIJah6_LtrUhWEQaa2T6qwLuPsC5ozSrBDdWPlheN8a1zxdQ4QH4V3_XNqyTIT67VuQBHg/s1600/SAM_0251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyqrVquisTkijGlvn-I0p1cNRK0ZxbI9tsMdDQOzwBNGEpO6chvcGLOrqo8t6s_5l02oI5dIJah6_LtrUhWEQaa2T6qwLuPsC5ozSrBDdWPlheN8a1zxdQ4QH4V3_XNqyTIT67VuQBHg/s320/SAM_0251.JPG" width="320" /></a><b>Bundaberg</b> <b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit;">Our last newsletter came from Hervey Bay, and after a week there, on April 29th, we shifted to Bundaberg, home of the famous Bundaberg Rum Factory. Staying at Bundaberg meant a compulsory tour of the rum factory, and a wee sampling of their products, of course. A half hour west of Bundaberg are the Mystery Craters, a series of solid rock craters covering around two acres. Not unlike the moon's surface, how the craters formed is a complete mystery as the closest similar type of rock is at Uluru (Ayers Rock) thousands of kilometres away. Bundaberg has interesting Botanic Gardens, complete with restored steam cane-trains taking happy passengers on a five minute loop around the gardens, sending water dragons and egrets scuttling out of the way Bundaberg's closest beaches, east of the city, are disappointing, mostly very rocky and uninviting. But this was more than compensated with the Sunday $3.90 roast meal and fine music that night at the local Brothers Sports Club.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Agnes Water</b> </div><div style="font-family: inherit;">From Bundaberg, it was a two hour drive to Agnes Water, a delightful hideaway spot with a glorious sandy and palm lined beach bordering the caravan park. This was our next stop. Five kilometres away was 1770 - the town's proper name is "Town of 1770" - this name was bestowed by Captain Cook in May 1770 when he landed there to replenish water and collect flora. Perhaps he had been on the Bundaberg rum when he named it? Two nights at Agnes Water were enough to see most of the sights, and it was time to move on.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigTcWgRhi7atscJy-TBqpRsq5K2iC-Iq9IWUFO9xKxMbJmAYaaGDPzz9yBMTRhaNlwL90KqGy6jdBHaK7E7S2ktmbwtDrPHb6pTyt5RS3MOxX_2c6IG1R34opK6ngZN1jAxjT_3XHsieg/s1600/SDC10652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigTcWgRhi7atscJy-TBqpRsq5K2iC-Iq9IWUFO9xKxMbJmAYaaGDPzz9yBMTRhaNlwL90KqGy6jdBHaK7E7S2ktmbwtDrPHb6pTyt5RS3MOxX_2c6IG1R34opK6ngZN1jAxjT_3XHsieg/s320/SDC10652.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Raewyn and a brahma bull</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Voewood Cattle Station </b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFcSdK32po7y89abcOiU7tXpNsLeKtooYsKtdzSYEBVKLNoz77-M68LdNbFRDbPcNsZkT_4x38EXac1Eqt3d6veEyaXOefLVlPjHzKQZiHOic_g5_ZzyxQWnfbXZdneEAR64h21XLdmA/s1600/SAM_0296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFcSdK32po7y89abcOiU7tXpNsLeKtooYsKtdzSYEBVKLNoz77-M68LdNbFRDbPcNsZkT_4x38EXac1Eqt3d6veEyaXOefLVlPjHzKQZiHOic_g5_ZzyxQWnfbXZdneEAR64h21XLdmA/s200/SAM_0296.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brahma herd</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>At the Bundaberg Rum Factory, we'd met a cattle-breeder and his wife, who had invited us to their 14,500 acre farm 60 kilometres inland from Gladstone. Currently, they have only 3000 Brahma cattle - often they have up to 7000. We were fortunate to watch the branding of 90 cattle just brought in. And a drive around the station in their old pickup truck took us eleven kilometres to the back of the farm, passing several 'paddocks' of more than 100 acres each. Most were in grass up to a metre high, good for hiding the wildlife on the property. We saw mobs of kangaroos, and at night dingo howls pierced the stillness. Two nights were spent there, then it was time to move as the 'wet season' has now finished and thus is prime time to head north.<br />
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<b>Rockhampton</b><br />
Our next stop, Rockhampton, is one of the larger cities on the east coast, and sits almost astride the Tropic of Capricorn. Rockhampton's Botanic Gardens include a small free zoo, and both are well worth a visit. The drive up nearby Mt. Archer gave a cool forest outlook over the surrounding city and countryside. With several shopping centres, retail therapy was another major pastime in Rockhampton.( A replacement kettle bought there was returned as it had no base to plug into - until the shop assistant opened the kettle lid and showed us the base packed inside. Oh well.)<br />
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Our caravan park, beside the murky Fitzroy River which splits Rockhampton, was our first evidence of signs warning to stay away from the river edge as crocodiles dwell there. We didn't see any, but did have hundreds of screeching white cockatoos arrive each evening to nest in the tall trees around the camp - usually around happy hour. They certainly knew how to make a racket, and the same happened each morning when they woke around 6.00am.<br />
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<b>Salonika Beach</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The reason for not swimming at Salonika Beach</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCsz3OXlodj7WlAOOFFPz8UA7gTEFc7VYiOGpqJH4en6fdBmSsrj9m2D592mv8ejQcqlDU1qtwUoB_ou5gj7t0VHuk1aoegIHovKcVLzowG9xwM_bmTPs_8m8fvVJQ4vMY29oYjnnfD0/s1600/SAM_0338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCsz3OXlodj7WlAOOFFPz8UA7gTEFc7VYiOGpqJH4en6fdBmSsrj9m2D592mv8ejQcqlDU1qtwUoB_ou5gj7t0VHuk1aoegIHovKcVLzowG9xwM_bmTPs_8m8fvVJQ4vMY29oYjnnfD0/s320/SAM_0338.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lonely Salonika Beach</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>We had only two nights at Rockhampton<b>, </b>and on May 8th shifted north to stay with friends at their house in Salonika Beach, a little known and isolated beach 35 kilometres south of Mackay. This wide sandy beach is about three kilometres long, bordered on the southern end by a small rocky headland, and on the northern end by the vast complex of the Hay Point Coal Exporting Port. Midway along Salonika beach, a tidal stream flows inland to a bush-lined foreboding creek, home of unknown predators.. At low tide, one can walk across the stream bed to explore the southern end of the beach. For most of each day, the beach is quite uninhabited, save for the occasional dog-walker and odd fisherman, though the modern housing estate is only a few metres away We did go for several walks and kite-flying excursions along the expansive sands, but stayed out of the sea because of possibility of stingers - that is, jellyfish. We did paddle our feet though. Perhaps the most dangerous thing was possibly getting hit on the head by coconuts falling from the many trees in the housing estate. Coconuts litter the ground in places, the locals oblivious to them. With a massive amount of our energy, we opened a couple, and they were beautiful, but most of it went to the family's dog, Zippa, who craved them and would chew the white meat out, leaving only the husk.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-eResIl8wa-zFdpy087sNuA1Jg5GFSlBUjq8tLAO1f3X8Xm4uzW1wVZwYOu1nXPM5Onr-Ft__SORbOUC7gprFCOesMC0PGNaxO62c6Ps9TwXiGVdLaeYYukS9sOKfBviHl3h_R8pS3c/s1600/SDC10695.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-eResIl8wa-zFdpy087sNuA1Jg5GFSlBUjq8tLAO1f3X8Xm4uzW1wVZwYOu1nXPM5Onr-Ft__SORbOUC7gprFCOesMC0PGNaxO62c6Ps9TwXiGVdLaeYYukS9sOKfBviHl3h_R8pS3c/s320/SDC10695.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Hay Point Coal Port and Pier</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Three kilometres up the road from Salonika Beach, the Dalrymple Bay and Hay Point Coal Exporting Port is a massive undertaking employing over 2000 people. Each day, up to twenty trains arrive from inland mines, each carrying 10,000 tonnes of coal in a line of 100+ carriages, making a train up to two kilometres long. The coal is sorted and stacked, then loaded onto conveyor belts which transport it along a three kilometre pier to be loaded onto waiting super tankers. Up to thirty supertankers might be anchored offshore each day, waiting their turn at the loading berth.<br />
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Every few days we'd venture off to Mackay City for a day's shopping or sightseeing, but much of our time at Salonika was just having time out, especially when some rainy cold snaps passed over. Before we knew it, we'd been with our friends almost three weeks, so with the weather clearing and fine days coming up, it was time to hit the road again.<br />
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Now we find ourselves 200 kilometres further north of Salonika Beach, at Airlie Beach, in the Whitsundays, with sunshine, warm days, beach lifestyle, and life as it should be. Airlie Beach has just been voted Queensland's friendliest town and it shows. We've booked in for three nights, but may stay longer as the weather is too nice. It's a hard life, but somebody has to do it. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLCtggFTgeuTd2TEX6eLQsPRi5Bf7z4cGHX0TUtrU-PqlPXjf_DVLae0_LhY2RloHGpwVDLBH8nWv9gFuF8mfHls8mrdnmLMy3jnYU0_sgCIWKDhzelp2iguJquB0rLd4QlofSCr6vy4/s1600/SDC10723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLCtggFTgeuTd2TEX6eLQsPRi5Bf7z4cGHX0TUtrU-PqlPXjf_DVLae0_LhY2RloHGpwVDLBH8nWv9gFuF8mfHls8mrdnmLMy3jnYU0_sgCIWKDhzelp2iguJquB0rLd4QlofSCr6vy4/s400/SDC10723.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Whitsunday Big 4 Caravan Park's swimming pool, Airlie Beach</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>We'll have more photos from Airlie and the Whitsunday Islands in our next blog . Meantime, any comments from you are welcome.<br />
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<div style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><b>Love from</b></i></div><div style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><b>Bryan and Raewyn </b></i></div><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"> </div>Bryan and Raewynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12537170533561114621noreply@blogger.com1