We plan to head down the Bruce Highway to Mackay and then swing inland and upward to the mountain village of Eungella. We stop and pick up a group of hitchers, I shake hands and one of the girls becomes very exited by how soft my palms are...
Luckily we are not alone. At Mackay we drop off the hitch hikers and continue on a single track road, through sugar cane fields and banana plantations, until we reach the tiny town of Finch Hatton where I remember to refill the gas bottle and stop at a local store. Attempting to undo the nut on the bottle I am approached by a (highly intoxicated) friendly local who in fine Queensland style SHOUTS “Let me do that, I am a boiler builder to trade” When he last built a boiler, I have no idea, but not since he had consumed fifty pints of XXXX. I step back and let him continue. He was in his fifties, weathered, drunk, overdressed and aromatic. His eyes were piercing, as if he had overdosed on oxygen and as he walked he recited a different obscenity with every step. “Where ya goin ?” he yelled “Eungella”, I pronounced the word as I would expect it to be said. XXXX laughed, “You mean YoojElla” “Yes” After our friend left (in his car!), I refitted the gas bottle and left Finch Hatton. The road climbs slowly towards Eungella, crossing cattle grids, dodging historic rock falls - I keep a close eye on the temperature gauge as the engine groans and puffs and the auto gearbox shifts awkwardly from 1st to 2nd, 2nd to 1st, 1st to 2nd. There appears to be no purpose to Eungella, other than to cater for the Platypus watching industry - one hotel, two ice cream kiosks and a van park - that's it. As van parks go, this was worth the effort, we pulled into a cluster of lemon trees - brimming with fruit, plugged the van into the electric lemon and breathed in the most incredible view - back down across the Great Dividing Range - through the cane fields on the valley floor and over to the Barrier Reef.
Favourite spots:
Van park where you can park beneath lemon trees brimming with fruit. This is where a campdite becomes more than a place to sleep - the views are quite outstanding.
What's really great:
The locals! Where else will a local drunk offer to hook up your gas bottle so dangerously that it may explode - with good intentions!
Accommodations:
Tropic Days hostel, a mix of Caribbean, Australasian and English design filled with travellers from every corner of the globe.
Other recommendations:
Port Douglas - not far up the coast. Beautiful empty beaches lined by rainforest and devoid of drunks.
del.icio.us
Digg this
