FearLiss Ramblings

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Toowoomba to Perth: Section 1

Well friends, I have imbibed sufficient caffine to overcome my yestereve grumps and will attempt to recreate that fascinating tale that was eradicated by the ComputerWontWork (no apostrophe thanks) God.

Day one: Katie and Damien's engagement party. For those in the know, you know what I mean... for those outside of the nod,nod,wink,wink - too bad so sad. Suffice to say - cause any group of the Wright/Eayrs clan to join with the general public, add alcohol and stir.

Day two: started with an unpleasant holler from a local nan. "Stupid place to park your car. On the pavement. It's illegal you know. It was there yesterday too."

"Oh really?" says I "I wondered where I left it." On she went, at 7.30am AND on a Sunday. "Geez lady, give it up, it's Sunday" I sez. "I was only telling you nicely" she snapped back. "Uh, no lady, there was nothing nice about the way you just spoke to me" well that was it, she marched of to get her crackerjack buddies, we're talking turf war of the Senior Cits variety. Knowing imminent danger, I wasted no further time, vacating said piece of council property STAT.

Not much to tell about Redcliffe to Maryborough, except to say "bye bye Sherry :)". Nah, didn't really see Old Mate, but I tell ya, no knowing who that old bird with the thing about public space was in cahoots with - they're a tight mob down there on the Peninsula.

Hm, Maryborough. Apparently some kind of association with Mary Poppins. Talk about milking a dry cow... stop my stupidity right here but I thought that Most Remarkable Nanny lived in England and would never deign to set foot in a town like Maryborough, what with all the humidity making her hair lacquer melt all down her face lacquer and leave her not Spit Spot but pretty knackered instead. Even her brolly would wilt I reckon.

Well that kind of logic never occurred to the Maryborough crowd, so the local council is not shy to let you know there is a connection. I never saw the old duck but I did discover a much better element of local culture. Anyone wont of entertainment on the Queen's Birthday long weekend, head over there to M'bro and raise a glass or several to Her Majesty (good on her for having a birthday on a long weekend) while you participate in the Annual Pub Crawl. Come in costume, come in drag, come in your jarmies, no one cares when its all for ER. What, I ask, could be bad about a place with an Annual Come-One-Come-All Pub Crawl?

Being as I was wanting to reach that other place of our favourite bevvies, I didn't stop to spin a line with the locals, more's the pity. Instead, after checking out Maaroom and Tinnanbar - dude if you just want to do nothing, then go there --> beach, caravan park, beach, mangrove, beach, a few houses, beach, boatramp, beach. You get the gist - I traversed onward and upward.

Well Dognarnit if the greater portion of the Grey Nomads weren't also heading the same way.

This scourge of the nation's highways and byways seem to have NO IDEA how darned wide their loads are. I don't know if the roads were wider or caravans smaller in "their day" but NOWADAYS the blasted things take up the WHOLE lane. This means fellow drivers can not see past Ma and Pa Kettle, merrily tootling along in their Brand New Toyota Prado at the ripping pace of 75km p/h... when they're feeling daring... speed beholden to the weight of the gaudily tri-colour B-double trailer (named "Bessie") specially modified for the journey in tow.

These persons may believe that they have a monopoly on the country's taxes and their right to expend not only the family fortune but also the fruits of said taxes by hauling their gargantuan loads around the thoroughfares of Terra Australis, and that may be so, but they can recall COMMON COURTESY.

When you are going uphill, you are going much more slowly than the other vehicles on the road (as a general rule). Therefore, keep left, assist other traffic to pass you and DO NOT SPEED UP AGAIN ON THE DOWNWARD RUN.

Furthermore, Keep Left allows other traffic to pass on the straight without having to risk life and limb by moving completely into the oncoming traffic lane in order to check whether or not there IS oncoming traffic. This plan clearly shouts it’s problem. In the event that traffic is, as described, oncoming, being in it’s way when mutual speed is approx. 100km p/h is not going to have a good outcome.

So, anyway, having stored up several years’ worth of road rage and beginning to plan a Citizens Against Grey Nomads group, I determined to vent this negativity by learning all the words to Run DMC’s “It’s Tricky”. Nothing like some Old Skool hip-hop to shout out to Nan and Pop as you cruise past (finally!) – they don’t ken the diff between that and modern swear words so the effect is just as satisfying.

Back to the original program folks. I decided not to “push it” on Official Day One so I stopped at that birthplace of the best of QLD consumables, namely Bundaberg Rum (Rum Pig), ginger beer, sugarcane and cane toads. Ok scratch the last one, no matter what they tell you, licking a cane toad does not have hallucinogenic effects.

Anyway, if Maryborough struggled for marketing inspiration, Bundaberg was all over it. Sugarcane fields are Very Impressive. Acres and acres of house-high bamboo-like clusters waving and rippling in deference to the coastal blow. And wouldn’t you “how quaint” it… a railway running right through it all. Yes, lacerating the endless verdant horizon was the track of the Sugarcane Railway.

Doing the Sensible Thing, I turned into the Tourist Information centre to see if I could locate a backpacker to set up for the night. Most of them are designed for the harvest-worker backpacker and seeing as I had just quit a job that had Stress as it's middle name, I wasn't aiming for that kinda stir. So I headed for that great QLD institution... The Beach

Bangara is THE beach of Rocky and I can see why. It is... very nice. Lots of igneous rock, surfy enough surf without needing a board, something inflated or a rescue flare, and not too overpopulated. Mind, they are doing their absolute best to rectify the latter issue. There is high-rise Super Expensive Resort type building erupting like an anaphalactic reaction up and down the beach strip. My guess is, unless you're there now or in about five minutes, Bangara is going to be Noosa Mark II and the reasons for going there will only be apparent to people with way to much money and an aversion to actual interaction with sea spray, headwinds and sticky beach sand.

After doing several bog laps of the main drag in a futile attempt to locate an un-signed backpackers in the midst of the scaffolding and cranes, I decided to throw my lot in with camping. Caravan parks are a gem for getting the best locations at a stupidly low price. $40 gave me two days worth of absolute beach frontage, kitchen facilities, amenities and walking distance to the local shops. Why don't ya?

I did, and even braved the incoming weather to do the washing. Set up the tent no bother and suddenly, the Welcoming Committee arrived. A little on the "overzealous" side mind, the mozzies wasted no time getting to know me. I could not get the repellant out fast enough - literally. I am still feeling the effects of their elephant-trunk sized proboscii, with full comprehension that further onslaught is just round the corner, the further North I go.

Not to worry though, I'm good with mozzies if I get to wear a singlet and shorts in June. Yeah baby!

Did the tourist thing and took a boardwalk, checked out the place, got some tucker and went to bed. Then it rained. Yup, Felicity's Hanging-Out-The-Washing Luck stayed true. Lucky, I said to myself, that I have a whole nother day for the washing to blow about in the wind and dry itself off. And the tent. No-one likes to deal with a wet tent. Specially when there is just no place to put it inside the vehicle when it is wet.

So with that thought, and the sounds of Arabic letters rotating through my brain, I put Day Two to rest.

Day Three: Bundaberg.

Not much to do in Bundy on a long weekend - no Annual Pub Crawl here. So I did my own, The Bundaberg Rum Distillery. Patiently waited through the seemingly endless tour of the factory, learned some things about Rum that I will share with y'all when properly primed, and HALLELUJAH off to the bar. Only two free drinks, tight buggers, but hey, sipping 8 Year Old on the rocks whilst reclining on the porch of an old Queenslander, surrounded by sugarcane and palm trees, cooled by the sprightly breeze bouncing off the Burnett - magic. And I was driving. Little chat with some fellow drunkards... I mean, tourists (boy Italians are keen rum drinkers) and I reeled off to the Bundaberg Keg.

Gingerbeer. Much cheaper and less interesting (read: no alcohol) than the Distillery tour, I felt that I had pretty much done what was needed in Bundy. The inclement weather and the public holiday put paid to any ideas of doing something involving sea water so after heading to the Botanic Gardens and having a ride on the "Sugarcane Railway" steam train - it was only $3 for two circuits! - AND spending an appropriate amount of time staring at Local Hero Bert Hinkler's (Google him people) house (brought brick by brick from England because they didn't want it), I went home to rescue my washing from the threatening precipitation.

Sure enough, shortly thereafter I unpegged and unhung, in it came. How that happened I don't know, usually I'm way late and it is drenched again before I get to it. Must be learnin' stuff :)

And in it came. Bloody rain. Bloody wet tent. Bloody leaving tomorrow, wet tent in tow. Maybe it will stop and the wind will blow and it will dry out and then I won't have a problem. Maybe nothin'. Still raining in the morning of Day Four.

Lucky I have dealt with the Wet Tent in the past and was able to lay it out so that it is now dry, and was dry by the time I got to Mackay. But what of the To Mackay Journey?

2 Comments:

At 12:11 am, Anonymous Anonymous said...

very interesting recollection of events. I particularly am fond of the agressive tendencies towards ramming the elderly off the road - teach them courtesy, or teach them a lesson!
Sounds good mate - got your text today - cant wait to read the mackay update :)
Frank

 
At 3:30 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi Felicity, Thanks for letting us join in tho' I must say I can't read all at one sitting ...makes my neck ache too much. You do write prolifically, which also amazes me...I haven't the patience. I look forward to your description of Mt Isa and Katherine...I can't wait to go there.
Most amusingly I asked Vince ( Dorothy's partner) years ago what he thought of Mt Isa. he said he'd never been there. I challenged this as I knew he'd driven trucks right around Australia. That was his answer...he'd driven AROUND many places, never through as he was always overloaded and avoiding Transport Police????
Happy Travelling. We're off in 7 weeks so we'll read the rest ( after then ) when we get back.

Estelle n Ron

 

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