I know in my last I said we were about to hit the road, and that is true, but I forgot to include in our Kurrimine Beach experience our day trip to the Tully Gorge and the Tully River, about 40 kms inland from the township of Tully (see last year's blog).
Our primary object in visiting this pristine river area was to watch those intrepid souls who part with a considerable amount of money to bash themselves about on the rapids in inflatable rafts.
After considerable enquiry and a rather frantic search along the river roadside, we found ourselves at the vantage point overviewing the major rapid and drop. And we were there with ten minutes to spare (we had been told by several different couples that the rafts always shot this rapid just after 1300 hours). Not today....as we were about to descend to the vantage point a couple emerged from the riverside to gaily ask if we saw the rafts....no, we bloody didn't...the buggers were early. Not at all happy, Jan.
Not to be completely stymied in our plan, we scooted off downstream where we took up a position from which we could see another set of rapids, albeit very minor players compared to those we had sought to see.
And sure enough, after a munch on our lunchtime sandwiches and the most delightful encounter with a Ulysses butterfly which cavorted about us for some time (these are truly magnificent creatures), the rafters hove into sight.
I have to say that their descent over the shallow rapids in shot was less that hair-raising, but at least we had seen what we came for...to an extent!
There are a number of parks on the banks of the Tully River, sited where the river ponds into deeper sections. And it is just lovely, especially on a hot FNQ afternoon. Nearby green park areas provide all amenities, including BBQs, changing rooms (no crocs here) and eating areas.
We have already slotted in a day trip here on our next visit to Kurrimine Beach.
Speaking of which, the time had come... Sunday September 1 saw the end of our second sojourn in Kurrimine Beach for 2013, but let me share a few farewell snippets before we take to the road again.
Our last two nights were very social indeed. A free camp 'chicken schnitzel' evening, and yes, karaoke, was organised by the park owners for our last Friday. And, God bless 'em, everyone turned out.
Our table was in particularly fine form with a group of friends both old and new, and apart from the food provided by the park management, the local Murdering Point winery had sent along a number of bottles of their products for general 'sampling'. I rather suspect banana liqueur may be a trap for young players, and my mate Gordon, who was the acting waiter for the occasion, has no idea of what a 'sample' means.
And after a great meal, the inevitable karaoke. After some of my previous offerings at the microphone, I have to modestly (yeah, right!) admit that I was in demand. Oh, well...if you insist!
Marcus, who with his wife Kay (she can be seen leafing through the list of songs available) owns the park, was very keen to join in on this particular night and insisted on retaining my services for a number of 'duets'.
Fortunately this was a night when many others were prepared to have a crack. And Liz was in fine form (standing at the end of the table...purple top and blue over shirt). It really was a great way to end our Kurrimine Beach stay, despite the croaky throat the next morning.
Rather foolishly, Liz and I succumbed to the invitation to join our old travelling friends, the Eleftherious, for a nightcap under their annex rather than repairing direct to our van. Here, I am sad to report, your correspondent was led astray by his silver tongued mate, and a number of glasses of port (a tipple I have sworn off for some time) disappeared under the balmy FNQ night sky. But then again, what's a performance without a post concert party?
I would probably have little difficulty convincing you that pulling down the van the following morning preparatory to our departure the next day was less than enervating. There is nothing quite like bending over pulling out stubborn tent pegs in 30 degree heat and 75% humidity with a head like a melon to emphasise the fact that age does not always bring wisdom (or at least restraint)!
But then came the evening when we all toddled off to the local King Reef Hotel for what was the 'last supper'.
Liz at least was in the mood! This was a lovely way to say our final farewells to a great bunch of mates. Kurrimine Beach remains one of our favourite spots.
But it really was time to go, and so, bright (in more ways than one) and early the next morning we were away, again hauling our way past the cane fields of the flats and up onto the Atherton tableland for the last time
where we turned our noses to the west and made our way along the Savannah Way through the grazing land of the dry tropics of the plateau,
through the ubiquitous roadworks
past the impressive and unexpected spectacle of a large windfarm
and on through the rolling hills into Ravenshoe, the first new town we were to pass today. This was new territory again.
As is to be expected, the tourist blurb promotes Ravenshoe for all sorts of reasons, none of which we found particularly compelling, but we turned off the highway for a peek nevertheless.
Our circuit of the main street did nothing to dispel our sense of 'been there, done that', although I did lament the fact that I was denied the opportunity to pose, beer in hand,
what is ostensibly 'Queensland's highest pub' (for whatever that's worth!). Liz's chagrin did, however, far outweigh mine. We had heard much positive comment about the town bakery. By all accounts its vanilla slice is a thing for which affectionados of this pastry will travel miles. Liz is one such misguided soul....and guess what...the bakery was shut! We left Ravenshoe with much gnashing of teeth coming from the navigator's seat.
Beyond Ravenshoe we traversed the last of the ranges. Here the countryside was becoming drier and drier, the termite mounds more and more common and we knew from previous experience we were about to reach the real 'savannah' country.
And so we did. As we travelled further and further south and west along the Savannah, through Innot Hot Springs and Mount Garnet, the landscape increasingly bore all the hallmarks of the drought which has been ravaging this part of the country for some time (as some later shots will amply demonstrate).
After the barren and sparse town offerings of Innot Hot Springs and Mount Garnet, we were not quite sure what awaited us at Mount Surprise, although, given our mission there was to visit the Undara Lava tubes, the inviting nature of the township itself, or otherwise, was of relatively little consequence. As with all these places, the more one looks the more one finds (and in saying that I have probably been a touch harsh in respect of the towns through which we had passed to date on this leg of our trip). Mount Surprise did indeed offer some surprises, about which I shall regale you in my next.
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