Cat-astrophes

Here is the last entry of my holiday adventures...and possibly the most memorable?

Our last two days was spent on the mainland in Townsville. On the second day we decided to treck inland and up the Paluma Range (Big mountain). Being the tourists we were, we left armed with swimmers, in-car Global Positioning System and camera. We affectionately called the GPS 'Jane'. Apparently Jane didn't share these affections, as toward the top of the skinny mountain road she started to demand we 'turn right now' - straight off the edge of the cliff.

From that point on she was known as 'Evil Jane'.

Regardless of Evil Jane's efforts we arrived safely at the Mount Spec Bridge - a bridge and a region rich with history. Apparently this was a mountain where troops were posted to lookout for airraids etc over Townsville. I just thought the bridge was purdy...

Infact, I liked it so much I think I took about 15 photos of it from all different angles...but I won't bore you with those....

The bridge ran over a body of water known as 'Little Crystal Creek'. Though it wasn't too little...It did provide a series of spectacular waterfalls and pools that you could quite happily splash around in. However it was still quite early in the day and not quite warm enough yet on the mountain to justify getting wet. We decided to stop by in the afternoon on our way back down.

Istead we continued to the summit. A sleepy little community greeted us, surrounded by rich rainforests. We trekked partway into the trees - BF was determined to do the walk in power-mode so most of my photos here turned out a blur - wanting to stop, trying to keep up, getting lost often (luckily the path made it kind of foolproof....). Some of the trees were just so beautiful - with buttress roots as large as walls and as tall as a house.

After the walk we stopped by a little cafe called 'Ivy Cottage'. The concept was great but the food......and 'coffee'...... well, yes. It was basically a house with a varandah converted into a cafe. If you don't like birds, I don't suggest it. Honey eaters of all kinds (and a few bush turkeys...) come to pinch scones and jam off your table. They fly *very* close as they jump from table to table. I was much amused.

The woman serving us didn't seem so patient towards us 'city folk' as we asked to see the menu before ordering (????). She got her own back by taking her time to serve the food. My scones were nice. The coffee burnt. BFs hot chocolate was lukewarm, her hubby's cake was stale. We assumed there was a lot of frozen food being microwaved out the back... The experience was good though.

At this point we had decided we had seen enough of Paluma and thought we'd make an early trip back to Townsville and find a massage instead (I still had most of my spending money at this point!) Little did we know that our plans were to be thwarted (I love that word....thwart...teehee).

We made our way slowly back down the mountain taking in the view, which was quite spectacular. To give you an idea of distances. That photo is taken an hour inland - the little 'mountain' off in the distance is actually magnetic island. Pretty amazing stuff!

As we turned yet another skinny corner we were confronted with an interesting sight. The back of school bus had slipped off the edge of the road and was balanced daintily on the edge of a straight drop down. The kids were off the bus evidently pretty shaken. We spoke briefly to a police officer who informed us that it was going to be a long wait. Alternatively we could go the other way down the mountain through 'Hidden Valley'. We smiled politely at the officer, thanked him, I took a photo, then turned back around.

Back up through Paluma we went and off towards Hidden Valley. Not long down the road we were confronted with a sad sight. Dirt road. A lot of it. Since we were in a borrowed car that had never seen dirt before, we set off at a painfully slow pace - diverting around every bump and crevice in the road. Dust was still caking the perfect paint.

An hour passed and we decided that this was indeed a Hidden Valley. Too well hidden. We were also running out of petrol.

All was not lost. We found Hidden Valley, and it had a petrol station! In fact, 'Hidden Valley' was just a petrol station and a lodge. Mind you, it was the cutest petrol station I have ever seen. There was some interesting characters there...the owners were extremely helpful and let us know that it was another 3 hours of dirt before hitting a long road back to Townsville. We decided we had better chances with the bus.

The drive back felt even longer for some reason - but at least we had a full tank of petrol, bottles of chilled water and we were armed with an array of chips and minties - all at petrol station prices....

Back through Paluma we went and down the mountain towards the bus. We hadn't gotten very far when we came across a barricade blocking the road with 'road closed' hanging on the front. We stopped momentarily, wondering what to do, before our driver, beyond being fed up, jumped out and opened the gate. I closed my eyes....(except to take a photo of course)...I know 'nusink...'

There was another long wait by Crystal Creek until the road was finally cleared, and a crane had lifted the bus back onto the road. We were finally on our way back to Townsville, but massages were a little out of the question by now. We had spent well over 5 hours on that hill. 4 more than anticipated.

On the way back, we followed the crane...another photo op for my journal...then finished the day with a carwash - more funky photos.

BUT...

The story doesn't end there.

The next morning whilst waiting for our flight out, I caught site of the front page of the Townsville Bulliten. There was the 'Paluma Incident' sprawled all over it with a photo of the bus....on the road. "Argh!! My photo at least has the wheels off the edge!" I protested. That evening I emailed them a thumbnail of my photo and told the paper to contact me if interested. They did indeed - offered no money for the photo, but did a quick phone interview. I requested they send a copy of the story in return.

I heard nothing.

I got sick of hearing nothing and tried to find an electronic version...which I did. Between misquotes and manipulating my words I was not too impressed...but then found the whole article had a bit of a negative vibe towards tourists attempting to drive on this mountain recklessly! Sheesh, if only they had known I am a P-plater!! So...for the record:

1. I was not the one driving
2. We were going well under the reccomended speed limit
3. The lady at Ivy Cottage agreed that it was a dangerous road and that buses should be banned
4. I did not say that it was popular with tourists - how would I know???
   

Bah...still, I can say I've done a little freelance :)

And so ends the North Queensland Adventures.

xxx

Okay okay...after a gentle reminder I'm getting back to the keyboard. I guess its partially the frustration of slow connections, partially taking up too many extra-curricular activities and partially not feeling like sitting in front of a computer that has kept me away....

....but here I am, back with Part...3? Hmmm...can I remember what happened almost a month ago??? I'll give my best shot.

Fishing. Our host is an avid fisherman. In fact, part of the reason he took a job in Weipa was simply for the fishing... So it was only natural that we were going to end up fishing.

I find it is one of those 'sports' (yes, I used inverted commas) that always comes back to bite me. I tend to watch things a little too much - and when it comes to food, I'll often become a temporary vegetarian. I cannot bare to see my food alive before it gets to my plate. I spend half the time fishing trying to keep the hook away from the fish....ironically, I always seem to catch something.

Our little adventure began at a little picturesque side of the island. It was stereotypically tropical with a splattering of palm trees along the shore. So I did what you are supposed to do when confronted with a view like this. I sat down and daydreamed.

After a while and when the sun was just touching the horizon I got my feet wet and daydreamed in the water some more....All the while our host and BF's hubby were out catching bait. Now this was a sight to behold in itself. Mr Fisherman was litterally creeping up on small schools of fish and at the last minute he would sprint after them and toss a net into the water. Very amusing for those watching....

The sun well and truly set and the two fisherman were still out baiting. I have to admit I took a *lot* of photos here...but this would have to be one of my favourites. It looks like one of those inspirational desk-top thingos with a bible verse scralled across it.

Anyway, that is the little sand island we eventually had to wade across to get to the 'fishing spot'. Sadly, only one fish was caught that night.....and guess who caught it? Yup....moi. It was a fair size...a 'grunter' apparently....

Oh yeah...we also caught a sting ray. It was only a small one and I found it quite beautiful....their little mouths are remarkable too - sort of comical. He was tossed back into the water. The fact that I caught something and BF hubby didn't was a little bit of a sore spot for a competitive person, but he was simply determined to go fishing again to even out the score.

That fishing expidition happened the very next morning. Before we left, I made sure to hold up the previous nights efforts high on a plate, just to show who was bringing in the bacon...or the fish... and the fight was on.

We sat outside for hours....and it *poured*! The only day we were there that rained, and it just so happened to rain for that duration. BF hubby didn't catch anything....but guess who did. Yup, the one trying to save the fish...this time a fair-sized silver trevally. I held it up Rex Hunt style for a photo, but I assure you I certainly did not kiss it.

I did manage to hook something else - it was pressumed a possible shark, but we had to break the line because it was taking more than I could pull in. Yes, it was the one that got away.

Fishy adventures did not finish there! BF learnt how to clean a fish. Something I again refused to do....it was bad enough watching them flop about on land....slowly suffocating....there was no way I was going to stick a knife in them too....

Still, after the fish were cleaned, they had produced a mountain of fresh fillets. We worked out the Sydney fish-market equivalent to be something like $60 worth of meat. Crazy!

So here was the last stop for our little fishy friends. Crumbed and baked or battered and fried...I hate the process, but I have to admit there is *absolutely* nothing like fresh fish. I'm just not cleaning it myself...


xxx

So I promised to elaborate on 'jungle experiences'...

Firstly, being a Sydney-sider, there are a few little beasts I have almost forgotten about. Frogs. Frogs EVERYWHERE...and not just frogs...TOADS. Big ugly noisy cane toads. Yuck yuck yuck. If it wasn't the sight of a big fat ugly thing sitting in the middle of the road croaking, or a big flat ugly thing squashed in the middle of the road...it was the thousands upon thousands of baby ones leaping out of your way at every step you took.

However, it wasn't just ugly toads, there were bullfrogs and...my personal favourites...tree frogs. The tree frogs were nothing like the toads. These little froglets were civilised. They would be found sitting on the dining tables, or more commonly - on my bed. Here is a photo of the first little guy moments before he jumped on my face.

Apparently my face was pretty exciting, because he invited his friends over. There was another one in my bed the next day...however he was much smaller and painted a pretty shade of brown. He just missed my face though when he jumped for it...

It was party after party there. The frogs told the geckos about it and they moved in too. This baby gecko was found next to my bed - and that is my hand that he is sitting on - so to give you an idea of size, he fit on the length of one segment of my finger. He was flopping his tail around, so it looks a bit funny - but I assure you he is intact...

The geckos were a welcomed addition to the 'house' - the 'house' mind you was a series of bungalows that used to be made of synthetic hessian connected by decking and timber walkways (photos to come). Three had been rennovated to make two bedrooms and a kitchen. The geckos are tenants that pay their rent in mosquito erradication. They come out at night and run around the ceilings eating anything that moves. Just make sure you cover your food whilst eating it, or else they'll deposit something else in it...

Also around the island were little sunbirds. Imagine simple sparrows - but paint them bright yellow and black. Now give them long licky tongues. And there is your sunbird. These little fellows were very elusive, and it took me the full five days to finally get a photo of them, and that required hiding out in gardens and amongst trees....

Lastly...my friends father (who was accomodating us), is a bit of a bush tucker man. He asked my friend and I to cook dinner one night and provided us (much to my disgust!) a duck (the one bird I can't bear to eat). What's more, he then proceeded to tell us about how he caught the duck (!!!!!).

Anyway...I can still say that I haven't eaten duck, because this little guy had his last revenge
by utterly destroying a pair of tongs. This was one tough rubber ducky! Now there were more animal/food adventures...but...you guessed it....that will have to wait for another post.

NOTE: no animals were harmed during this post (or prior to it)

xxx

Okay, so it isn't quite winter yet...

But, as promised, here is the first story of my adventures....
It all began on a Sunday afternoon. My bag was packed - I travel light - and I was armed with my camera, determined to take photos every step of the way (which I did...). First stop, the airport... We at Cat-astrophes fly Virgin.

Of course there was much excitement on the way up. I have to admit I get the giggles at take-offs. Even flying solo - I just can't contain it - the g-forces tickle my funny bone severely! Then there was the in-flight cafe...Okay, this isn't Qantas, you don't just get given your food, but let me say the cup your coffee arrives in is worth every cent!

One thing I love about flying is the scenery. I *love* the sky. It's like a perpetually changing canvas. Being in a plane gives you a perspective you just will never experience on the ground. Here's a shot I took whilst we were flying over a storm in Queensland. There was a fair bit of turbulance to go along with it, but it just makes things more exciting! :)

Now 2 and a half to 3 hours is *long*. It's even longer when you are anticipating a holiday. Hey, I'm still the person that finds it hard to sleep on Christmas Eve. When you have eaten and read everything on board, you start to become fidgety. Long after noughts and crosses, hangman and all that jazz I discovered a new game to play with my next-seat buddy....you know those little radio-things in the handrests? Well, they also double as another type of entertainment! First we'd set the channel to 4. I would take the 'down' button, and Next-Seat Buddy would take the 'up' button. My goal was to get the tuner to 1. She had to try to get it to 8. The first to do so was the winner. That kept us occupied until descent.

Next stop - the ferry. We waited at the terminal at Townsville for over an hour. Apparently ferries don't run too often on a Sunday night. I have no idea why not.... Anyway, that gave us more of an oppurtunity to kick back and ... read. Don't get me wrong, I like reading...but I just wanted to get on with the holiday already...

When it finally arrived, there was a pretty long trip across the open sea awaiting us. I don't quite remember the trip being so long last time I went, but the jetty has moved to another bay...so maybe that accounted for a few extra minutes... Anyway....the sea was *rough* and silly us had chosen to sit on the roof. If the wind wasn't picking up loose articles and throwing them around, the waves certainly were tossing us about! Infact it was here I discovered true isle-surfing. It was a challenge to stay upright, and there was many a sore-buttock slammed against a seat.

Bottom line (haha...buttocks...) we got there safe and sound (after 8 hours of travelling!!), and stayed on a luscious property nestled within the island. It was so integrated into the tropical landscape that you couldn't help but get a jungle-experience. That includes all the wildlife...but I'll tell you about that another time.

We were able to get around the island in a car lent to us. However I made a mental note not to complain about petrol prices for the time being...look at how much the islanders are paying on a cheap day....that little display says 143.9 cents per litre!! Phew...and there is only one petrol station on the island...so he can pretty much charge what he likes!

The ferry back wasn't so eventful. However the goings-on back in Townsville were so eventful they require a post of their own...I'll leave you with this snapshot - a dingy little hotel I stayed in a night or two (darned hazy memory) last time I was up. It still looks as how I remembered it. No idea what makes it so interesting to me...it's just so typically 'aussie hotel'.

The flight back doesn't deserve mentioning. It was with Jetstar, and I have to say 'not happy'. Seems like I'll be a Virgin girl from here on.

teehee

xxx