Day 1: Ayr to Clairview
Distance: 430km
All our bags are packed, we’re ready to go…. And though we
really and truly were ready to go, saying goodbye to Manbulloo was nonetheless
sadder than I thought it would be. Last time around, we drove off whooping and
cheering, this time around I remember saying over and over again “This is kinda
sad.”. Though the further away we drove from the packing shed, the easier it
got.
Our route heading south on the Bruce Highway took us through
mostly farmland. As a kid, I remember that long drives though the countryside
of Germany were always made more fun by playing car games. One particularly,
that I now see as the root of my habit of constantly looking out the window
trying to spot wildlife on drives. It is quite simple – whoever calls animals
along the roadside first, wins. Back then, we played for a few Pfennings and
horses were worth more than cows. Driving through the countryside of Northern
Queensland, I would have been a millionaire in no time flat. Cows and horses
everywhere. Seemed like every second house we passed had horses in their front
yard. That awakened the pre-teen-horse-crazy-girl in me, who just wouldn’t shut
up about wanting to move here so I could have a horse in my front yard.
Whatever wasn’t farmland, was lush green hills. The
landscape is really quite beautiful, especially after a bit of rain here and
there.
The drive itself was fine and since it was already after
lunch when we finally left Ayr, we knew we wouldn’t get too far. However,
having left the Northern Territory and Outback for the much more populated East
Coast, there were suddenly much less rest areas noted in our trusty Camp 7. So
we just kept on going till there was.
We arrived in Clairview after nightfall. We turned off the
highway and drove a few kilometers back in the direction we had just come from.
The strange little town is like a strip of houses squeezed in between the
highway and (as we found out the next morning) the ocean.
Another difference to our previous roadtrip, no rest area
was empty. Also in Clairview, we squeezed our car and tent in between a caravan
and a campervan out of which an angry dog barked at us all the way through
setting up the tent.
What followed was to go down in our travel history as the
WORST NIGHT EVER. We tried getting comfortable and readjusting from aircon room
and double bed to slightly cramped tent on rest area. The setting up and the
heat our piece of junk car was emanating left us hot and sweaty. But after
reading a few pages and settling in, we did at some point fall asleep… Only to
wake up minutes later because a road train decided to pull up onto a patch
nearby – and it was loud! To make things worse, this road train must have been
transporting good that needed cooling, because all night long, the
chainsaw-like sound of the automated generator turned on and off. What we also
didn’t see before setting up, was the train tracks along the highway. All day
long, not a train in sight and all through the night, every two hours or so, a
mile-long train thunders by, causing us to jolt upright in the tent and watch
the seemingly endless wagons roll.
To make matters even more uncomfortable, some secret
mosquito-sized entrance in our tent must have been discovered and leaked to the
entire mozzie population of Clairview. We got eaten alive. Our feet, pressed
against the net of the tent, were mangled – and many of you might know what a
mosquito bite on your toe feels like, but try every single toe, plus in between
them, plus every other patch of skin on your feet – AGONY! Our bodies were
equally mangled – bites on my forehead and lip made me feel like I had just
received botox and whatever-they-squirt-into-the-lips. At some point, both wide
awake, we turned on the flashlight and found an army of big fat mozzies dotting
the ceiling of our tent. We let out our anger and now it looks like a massacre
took place in there.
Mozzies dead. Itchiness meditated away. Sleep? Nope. I felt
the first drops in my face and thought – Ahhhh, how refreshing! I must have
lain there, enjoying the slight drizzle for 15mins or so, before realizing that
it wasn’t going to stop. Mo woke up and braved the now classified as light rain
shower. He threw the rain cover for the tent over us and climbed back in. We
listened to the drops get heavier and watched as the walls of our tent started
sweating and the first drops seep through. We saved our gadgets and important
stuff into to the car and let exhaustion take us away into a short but sweet
hour or two of sleep.
Day 2: Clairview to Gympie
Distance: 700km
We woke up to a gray morning. We woke up wet. We woke up
floating in a little lake that had gathered in our tent, soaking pretty much
everything in it. Luckily that only meant us, our clothes and the bedding.
Stepping out of the tent, we were greeted with a beautiful
view of the ocean, a little beach and a patch of mangroves, only a few meters
away from our site. Also, the towns community center and playground were right
next door. That meant, at least we had a bathroom for the morning. Walking
back, I found a sign about Clairview, stating that the waters around there are
a dugong sanctuary. How cool is that? So while Mo packed up, trying to soak up
as much water from our tent and drying our mattress, I kept my eyes peeled on
the ocean in hopes of spotting a dugong (and made breakfast).
As stressful and uncomfortable as the night and that morning
were, we realized that we have definitely arrived in “travel-mode”, when even
that didn’t really phase us. No sleep, tons of bites, a bag of soggy sheets and
clothes? Whatever. Nothing you can do about it but fix it as best you can –
have an excuse to splurge on real coffee, use up half a tube of anti-itch cream
and hope the sun comes out sometime during the day.
Mangroves. Dungong Sanctuary. Location of our worst night ever.
The drive that day was rather uneventful. After a sparse
breakfast, we were hungry and since we had said we were going to treat
ourselves after that night, we stopped at the next McDonald's and had more
breakfast.
The next stop was at a quite spacious rest area, that we
chose solely because the sun had decided to come out. So we opened all doors
and hung our wet stuff on the doors, while a group of boy scouts had their
lunch at the picnic table next to us. In a stroke of unforeseen luck, we found
out there were showers on the rest area! Refreshed and dry, we were just about
to continue on down the road when… the car wouldn’t start. And it started
pouring. Great. Remember when I said we would at some point regret not having
fixed our starter motor? Well, sitting under the roof of a picnic table,
waiting for the rain to stop so we could ask someone for a jump-start was that
moment.
That did eventually happen though and after not too long a
wait.
Driving in Australia is different. Not only because of the
straight and empty roads (though they are definitely fuller on the east coast),
but also because of the wide array of signs that line the highway. Most of them
warn you about falling asleep behind the wheel (which in itself is already an
indicator about how stressful driving is in this country haha). “Survive this
Drive” or “Rest and Revive” or “Tired Drivers Die” become that shaking finger
of reprimand and reminder that accompany you on your road trip. Also, here in
Queensland, they play trivia games with you. Where they ask a question and then
answer it a kilometer later or so. “What is the coldest town in Queensland?” …
“Stanthorpe”! I actually knew that one (highlight of my evening), because we
had worked there four years ago and I remember someone telling me.
Also, all the signs warning you about wildlife that just
might cross the road in certain areas – Kangaroos being the most frequent of
course. Again, being on the east coast is quite different though. Hardly any
road-kill, and despite more signs, less wildlife. I got quite excited when I
saw some signs for koalas and close by Brisbane, even wild horses. But no
matter how hard I concentrated on the tree tops zipping by or looked as deeply
into the woods as I could – very strenuous on the eyes at some point – no
koalas, no wild horses. All lies, these signs ;)
One of the most beautiful sunsets accompanied our search for
dinner through Maryborough, a charming town and birthplace of P.L. Travers, the
author and creator of Mary Poppins. The notes I take for this blog read:
“Grumpy Mo – Pizza – Happy Mo”. So instead of elaborating on that story, I’ll
just let that speak for itself ;)
Our drive for the day ended on a green and grassy rest area
outside Gympie. It was a treat to set up our tent on real and really soft
grass. And it felt so good to just sleep.
Day 3: Gympie to Nimbin
Distance: 350km
After a pretty good night of sleep, only moderate mosquito
attacks on our feet (meaning only two rude awakenings), we found we had parked
in a quite beautiful spot under some tall eucalyptus trees. The crows squawked
us awake and we took our time, slowly learning that in fact we were not in a
hurry for the first time in months.
Camping under Eucalyptus trees in Gympie.
Breakfast was made in the shade of a picnic
table and enjoyed while being entertained (or pestered) by a stinky old man. He
might have been a good guy, but he was kind of smelly and was talking about how
Europe should get rid of the Euro again and many other (un)interesting beliefs
of his. Oh well, one of the joys of traveling is the people you meet along the
way, right?
Being pretty close to our destination (though not 100% sure
about what our destination was actually going to be), we found ourselves with
the question: “So, what do we want to do?” After months of work and the few
days off we had had, used to do as little as possible, it was a bit
overwhelming to try and answer that question. Free time – what is that? We
tried to make it easier by first looking at “What can we do?” – but soon
noticed that that was even more overwhelming. So we decided on just driving
first.
We took the scenic route along the Sunshine Coast, which
turned out to be quite beautiful and quite the mistake. It was Sunday, still
school holidays and a very sunny day indeed. So every little town, every beach
access parking lot, every street leading to a beach access parking lot was
full. It was so crowded and lively, we experienced such a culture shock that we
never got our of the car (also because we couldn’t find parking and were afraid
our car wouldn’t start again). Also, all of a sudden, people were rich, tanned
and beautiful. Buff surfer boys and skinny surfer girls all over the place! Compared
to the rough, tough and portly people in the towns that we had lived and worked
in… we were on a different planet!
Back on the highway – 4 lanes on each side, barriers, lights
– we spontaneously decided to take a detour to Nimbin and spend the night in
the hills of New South Wales. We had been to the little hippie town before and
it felt like the right place to unwind. The drive into the hills is so
beautiful – serpentine roads up and around hills, juicy green everywhere,
secluded homes nestled between wood and meadow and butterflies everywhere.
Sometimes, it feels a bit like the south of Germany… And then all of a sudden
there’s a fire-tree in bloom or giant (and I mean ginormous) bamboo in front of
you.
Nimbin on a Sunday is lively. Colorful stalls selling arts,
crafts, jewelry and homemade clothes. Colorful people walking, sitting, lying
around.
The colorful street of Nimbin. Hippie haven.
We set up camp in the one and only caravan park and found a
secluded spot under some palm trees. We walked around town (which is up and
down one street), popped into some of the shops and ended up spending the rest
of the afternoon in the public pool, catching the last rays of sunlight and
letting our bodies float. After 3,5 months of working a physically demanding
job, being weightless felt unbelievable.
We cooked some real food and had a cool and comfy night in
the tent. Now that is relaxation right there.
Day 4: Gold Coast
Distance: Not mentionable
The cool gray morning allowed us to sleep in and once again,
we took our time getting up and packing up. Slowly but surely, we were learning
to just chill. I must have been a bit too chill during breakfast though,
because I managed to tip over my fresh cup of tea, which then leaked through
the table and onto my leg – OUCH! Thank god we had been to lazy to let the
water really boil. Still, as ordered by my paramedic boyfriend, I stood with my
leg under running cold water for half an hour.
The drive back to the coast was just as beautiful as the
drive in. That countryside will forever stay with me, there’s just that special
something about it. Kind of like driving up to Baguio.
We had been to the Gold Coast before, but never really hung
out there. I was so happy and grateful, when Alana and Julie, girls I met
during a Tao Expedition in Palawan in 2013, invited us to come stay with them.
Their house up on a hill, with a view of a lake and the ocean (double whammy!),
is gorgeous and the room we got to stay in so comfortable. So. Damn. Lucky.
Having friends all over the world is just so cool.
Despite a few menacing looking clouds, we headed down to the
beach for a quick swim. Wind whipped the fine white, squeaky sand onto our
bodies and the waves and currents pushed and pulled us around in the shallows
for a while. Good fun. Until I dove under a wave and got whacked in my face by
a jellyfish. At least I think it was. All I knew, was that it felt like a
jellyfish gave me a shiner.
Just before the rain, we headed home.
But I could already tell why the lifestyle here is so
attractive. There’s just something about being able to just drive to the beach,
jump in and chill before/after work, on weekends/days, basically anytime…
BREAKING NEWS!
Though this is chronologically not in order, I just have to
squeeze it in – We have a new job! By Wednesday, we will be part of the Food
and Beverage department of the Tangalooma Resort on Moreton Island by Brisbane.
We were interviewed on the phone, just received our instructions on how to get
to the island and now we have just a few days to get everything in order. Woohooo!
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