After the fun and games that was Port Douglas, time to get back on track and head North again. The horse was a touch thirsty and the smelly fluid box was beginning to emit some alarming warnings! Found a dump point in Mossman before heading up the hill to Tablelands campground for a cane toad and active wear free afternoon and a chance to smash out a couple of loads of washing.
Up bright and early, (ish!), in the morning, clean jocks on, and off we go. Followed the sign for the tourist trail to Daintree and ended up in the queue for the ferry! Never mind, when in Rome! Crossing a croc infested river on a little ferry is an unnerving experience. A couple of lads with gondola poles would probably have more horsepower than this thing. Happily and safely we reached the other side and pressed on. Driving through a rainforest is a first for us, utterly awesome as we dragged Fergie’s oversized arse through the narrow roads. Decided not to have a swim in the local waterhole but more than tempted to shove a few noisy children in to test the ‘safe’ to swim notices. Didn’t fancy risking going much further so parked Fergie in the Cape Trib carpark and headed off on foot. Cape Trib for those who have not been here is a point on the map rather than a small town. Pub, motel and booked out caravan park is the sum of its parts. Except of course for an unreal beach and spectacular views over the Coral Sea. Took a nice long hike up the beach and back and whacked the drone up for a few pictures.
Turns out that booking an overnight berth up here is a bit of a must with pretty much everything booked out for at least a week ahead. Didn’t fancy playing dodgems with the local wildlife as the sun was setting so ended up paying a small fortune to park in a field masquerading as a camp ground. Found a cheeky free spot the next day so parked Fergie up and went exploring. Needing a piss in croc country is an awkward situation. Getting caught with the Hampton out in public is generally frowned upon. Legging it down the beach with 500 kilos of prehistoric eating machine in hot pursuit is unlikely to make repacking the aforementioned Hampton any easier! Made it safely back to the van, locked the doors and checked underpants for impact. Turns out that camping in the middle of a rainforest is fucking noisy! All manner of nocturnal beasts generally scampering about in their quests for food and fun. Was almost a relief when the sun came up and a gentle trip back to the ferry. The awesomeness and raw beauty of this place cannot be underestimated.
Took a baby detour on the way out for a bit of a mooch around Mossman Gorge. Holy crap again! The magic and beauty of the rainforest is on full display here. Managed an hour or so walk before the rain stopped play.
Took refuge in Daintree Village and parked the horse up opposite the pub!
10 days and almost 2000km since collecting Fergie, weather looking a little perkier, so time to slow down. Port Douglas looked like a possible stop for a couple of days a few walks and some misbehaviour!
Once again, the trusty park4night app comes up trumps with a car park right next to the Marina, pretty much in the middle of town. Took a gentle amble around the clifftop pathways and generally checked out the surrounding area. Handy facilities close by for numbers greater than one, a stack of bars, even a Coles a few minutes walk away. Don’t mind if we do!
Enjoyed a gentle feed in the fading sun and noticed a sign in the pub over the road. “Cane Toad Racing Tonight” Sounds like a hoot, tickets bought. I have raced many a strange species over the years, lobsters, hermit crabs, beetles, mice, (Including mouse vs Monitor Lizard!), sheep and frogs but never a toad. Let alone an invasive, poisonous one. Only in Australia! fun! Turns out the toads in the racing paddock were generally far smaller and far less poisonous looking than many of the ones stalking around town in activewear looking for kisses. Back in the pub, there is a pre-race bid to be the jockey, generally ending anywhere between $50 and $100 to ‘ride’ one of these. A bunch of toads wearing coloured hair ties for ID are popped into the starting bucket. Donald Jump, Aussie Aussie Aussie, Gay Freddo, camel toad and a few others. Each jockey is issued a ‘whip’, (One of those annoying party, blow/noise things), to encourage your investment over the edge of the table. Then it is just a matter of catching the slippery bastard before it makes a dash for the NSW border. Pop it into the winning basket first to win! Easy! Five, four, three, two, one, GO! Mayhem as each jockey gives their party blower full throttle. About half make a bolt for it. The other half looking more like their activewear wearing mates, standing around in the middle of the bar area waiting for another arse tickle. All toads generally end up in the winning basket and prizes are awarded. A can of Great Northern seems to be the main prize. Why pay less?
Much fun had, took the 25 metre walk back to our digs.
Bit of a potter about town the next day followed up by another round of racing in the evening. Turns out that overnight stays in the carpark are not strictly legal with a round of running with the rangers a strong possibility. Fortunately no unwelcome rangers, (Or toads), disturbed us so took a detour around an army of tree ants for an mooch around the local Sunday market. Noticed these two potential Darwin Award recipients who wandered past the sign for a bit of a paddle! Good luck with that!
Our home for the next six weeks, Fergie, has had a pretty cushy first two years of life. Road trips seem to have existed as gentle wafts between official campsites with associated power, water and easy access to restaurants. This is likely to be a bit of a smack on the arse. Campsites will be for filling up with water, fast charging mobile devices, smashing out a load or two of laundry and giving J4x access to hair straighteners and her beloved Dyson! First stop Coles to fill the fridge with goodies and general BBQ dirtying things. Off we go. Bugger all plans, just need to be back on the Sunny Coast 1 September. Pointed the beast North and pressed the go forwards pedal. Given Fergie’s lack of real life experience, the contents of the water tank were unlikely to be helpful in our quest to ban numbers greater than one from the dunny so popped into a tourist info place to find clean water and somewhere to flush the water tank. The lovely people in the tourist office had heaps of info, sadly, none of any fucking use whatsoever! Got on the blower and booked ourselves in Poona Palms Holiday Park about 150km North.
Water in/water out checklist ticked. Power attached. Whacked half a cow onto the BBQ and chilled out for the night. Incredibly comfy bed, no more faffing around climbing up ladders into the cubby hole above the cabin for us.
Lazy start for us and a couple of visits to the facilities to liberate the aforementioned cow. Hervey Bay is only about an hour North, so booted up the trusty park4night app to check out free spots for the night. park4night guided us around Scotland and Spain in our quest to pay as little as possible in camping fees last year. Shady/flat area on the edge of a car park ticks the boxes, bloody oath! Took a bit of a wander around town then out on the awesome pier before settling in for dinner. Up the next morning and happy to discover that Fergie’s overnight thirst for battery power was minimal. Also, the rooftop solar panels were happily getting on with the business of refilling the batteries. Quick stop at the local shopping centre for a crap and purchase a few bits for the kitchen before getting back on the road.
Agnes Waters had been mentioned as pretty awesome and about three hours drive. park4night identified a handy car park for the night, perfect. Sadly we arrived at the same time as an army of construction workers reworking the entire beach front. Never mind, parked up overlooking a tranquil lake, whacked a chook on the barbie and got on the piss!
Rockhampton next, 225km about two and a half hours. Our handy Scrooge app takes us to a plot at the top of Mount Archer, overlooking the town. Had a nasty encounter with a big mouse spider whilst having a piss in the bush, so retreated to the BBQ and got stuck into a leg of lamb!
Fergie’s legs are getting a proper stretching and they/them (!) responded with a hissy fit! Big warning lights in a Motorhome are never welcome. Instructions like ‘Check Engine’ and ‘Check Gearbox’ are as welcome Mr Whippy and his smelly chums. Oh, hang on, I’ll pop the bonnet. Yup, both there! Parked up and waited for the RAC man to arrive. He duly arrives moaning about Fiat vehicles and starts checking Fergie’s private parts. Like most who identify as they/them, Fergie’s original private parts are still present and correct, functioning as designed. RAC Man delivers a spot of electric shock treatment, problem solved. Maybe a message in there for the woke brigade!
Couple of hours delay then off to Barracrab Camp site another couple of hundred K’s away for water and stuff! Sadly, the water here is bore water and saltier than a packet of Smith’s finest. One tap for filling the kettle and fuck all else! Water tanks now drier than a Nun’s nasty and the weather has decided on rain for a few days. Not just rain, but 60kmph winds. Didn’t fancy any of that malarkey so pressed on to Mackay.
Visiting Trish and Ken had always been the plan on this long awaited trip. Covid, family and Europe visits put a kybosh on this until recently!! Sadly however Trish passed away before we ever made it! But we still kept to our word and met up with Ken, seeing where they built their new life together. As we all know life is so short and for Ken losing Trish at such a young age is totally devastating. Ken welcomed us with open arms and we plugged our van in for the night and proceeded to have a tour of Mackay, thanks to Judy, Ken’s private driver aka good friend of both Trish and Ken.Dinner at Mackay bowlo was delicious!! Thanks Ken- see you next time 🙏❤️
Quick hour and a half dash in the pissing rain to Prosperpine. Free spot in the middle of town was quickly turning into a Motorhome sized mud wrestling pit so stayed the night and got cracking again in the morning.
Weather still less than friendly so took a long, slow drive to Forrest Beach about 400km up the road. What a find, a beautiful area right by the beach for independent horses (self contained vans for those who have just tuned in!) Our horse was very happy, plenty of water and rest place, we were happy with hot showers, clean loos and even had a plug point in the bathroom. Locals very welcoming $15 for the night!!
Now we’re really heading into the tropics! Off to Bramston Beach another 200k’s up the road. Lush, green and stunning scenery! Exactly what we were hoping for! Headed to a campsite that was way too hippy for us. Generally not a fan of soap dodging, dopeheads, all this offered was muddy sloping field, and a fat hippy chick, brain damaged by more than an occasional puff! Plus a shed for joining in with other spaced out musos for their daily jamming session. Wild cassowaries are apparently a regular sight here, the only brightly coloured bird we saw was a fat one in a loud shirt. No thanks, we headed straight back out, wheels spinning to escape being bogged!!! continued driving to the beach and found ourselves a beautiful spot right on the beach!! Showers and loos clean, filled horse up, very happy!!
After the last ear shattering experience, we found a couple of alternative horses and decided on Fergie in Coolum Beach. Not far from where the MoonBears live. Hopped onto the train from Brisvegas and headed North for a night with them.
Arrived early the morning to meet Fergie.
Fergie is a 25 foot, 2 year old. Who, according to owners David and Kellie, identifies as they/them! Not too fussed about the whole they/them thing, but genuinely happy with Fergie’s sleek, shiny lines and slide out queen sized bed. All the bells and whistles on board. Solar panels on the roof. Big fridge/freezer, oven, grill, cooktop, microwave. Heaps of storage. Porcelain dunny and sink, lovely gas powered shower, even a washing machine and a barbie that plugs into the Fergie’s gas system! Don’t mind if we do.
Lovely Nicky dropped us off at Bribie Island to collect our new horse. Popped into a local watering hole to kill some time and grab a feed whilst waiting for the sound of hooves.
We had been warned that the suspension had a slight squeak but still excited to get going. The horse duly arrives and its owner asks if we still want to take it with the squeak. Maybe we have a little drive around the block first? Little squeak? Mice have a little squeak. Kindergartens emit a somewhat more annoying version, but this thing comfortably wins 1st prize! Navigating a roundabout seems to awaken the herd of cats in the back somewhere by spraying them with icy water! Lobbing a speed bump into the equation was equivalent to taking the cat/icy water combo to the afore mentioned kindergarten and stirring until well mixed. Holy shit! The horse owner who was clearly focussed on 6 weeks of rental $$ suggested we could wear earplugs whilst driving. We suggested he could fuck off! Sadly, that left us back in the watering hole with our suitcases and no horse! Back on the blower to Nicky who took us back to her awesome gaff West of Brisvegas for a debrief and regroup. Fingers crossed we have found a horse with all 4 shoes intact. Heading off to the Sunny Coast for pickup tomorrow!
3 months sounds like a long time to be away. 3 months is actually about perfect. Time to allow quality time with those we love, plus equally essential P & J time.
3 months of almost perfect weather, including Scotland! 6 weeks of #Vanlife around Scotland and the Spanish Pyrenees Mountains.
Family time in Essex, London, Croydon, The Canary Islands, Kent and Jersey. A waft down to the West-Country to see our old school and an old school friend of ours.
Managed to avoid the train striking tosspots for a couple of nights with Hells Bells.
Ima dropped me off at Jersey airport for my flight outbound to Southampton, to meet up with Hels Bels for the final part of our holidays. Always wonderful to spend time with Helen, although this was the first time we’d been to stay since John passed away! Good to see her new abode and of course Bear joined us from Kent.
Then, Bang! All over! Coach to the airport.
Could be worse!
Found a dunny with a difference in Singapore Airport! Can’t personally see these appearing in Sydney, any time soon. A selection of buttons to soothe and generally pamper the backside whilst you liberate yourself of 12 hours or so of beverages and nibbles! Never seen a warning on a bog seat before! Apparently improper use of this item can result in a low-grade burn! Have personally had many a burn downstairs, almost always a post vindaloo situation.
Regardless, pressing all of the buttons was fun. Hobbled back to the bar with a wet, and slightly burnt tea towel holder! Large Gin and Tonic please!
Sydney arrives almost too soon, looking forward to a few days R&R before getting back to work.
For once, worldwide calendars and busy work schedules locked into synch. At last after numerous attempts to gather us all together to meet up with my dad in Jersey it actually happened. We arrived first and my beautiful Ima met us at the airport & drove us back to her house for chats, tea, laughs and very kindly to hand her car over to us for the duration of our stay!
We then headed over to Dads house, where we would be staying with the family. Over the next 48 hours the kids arrived, Sam and Nic, followed by Haz. We were all together again, making a wish of us all being under the same roof, let alone the same country come true.
Mr T assisted with the depopulation of Jersey lobster stocks for dinner on the Friday night, where he invited Edward and Pam for a lobster feast. 9 lobsters and a couple of punnets of straight from the sea scallops. Didn’t take long to work out that the scallops weren’t going to cook themselves. Nor, despite their freshness, the lobsters were not going to present themselves in edible format. A few people copped some lobster juice spray whilst these were dealt with by the in house, world travelling Chef Bear! Plenty of garlic butter later, we were ready for dinner. Yum!
Sloped off to Emma’s the next day for a spot of lunch. Her and Sister, Penny had knocked up the mother of all Paellas. Much fun again!
Introducing the kids to some of my old haunts and houses was great, and taking Harri to Grannies Annie’s house and grave site was special!
Janet and David popped over from the UK for a couple of days.
Sadly, all things come to an end. Took the difficult decision to leave JT in Jersey whilst I popped back to Blighty for a bit more time with Mum. Leaving JT sometime with her Dad! Although that did not quite go plan she gained extra time with her besty!
Witty words elude me here. We were running out of time, Jax needed time with some old friends so I peeled off to spend a bit more time with Mum. None of us are getting any younger and Oz is a bloody long way away.
Had a wonderful 5 days with Mum and Roy. Jobs completed, fridge and wine cellar depleted!
