A LONG HELD AMBITION IS REALISED - WE ARRIVE AT AGNES WATER AND TOWN OF 1770 (12 - 14 JUNE 2016)

Before I write another word let me pronounce with clarity and conviction, the names in the title of this missive are correct. It is not Agnes Waters nor is its nearby neighbour The Town of 1770, despite the almost universal misuse of both names. Travel really does broaden the mind (or at least teaches one to be careful around the locals when referring to their beloved boroughs or burgs.....getting it wrong is sure to evoke a swift and scornful reaction and leave you marked for life as an intruder).

So with all this, I guess we had better get there!  After the past few trips which had all been sub-100 kms, today's journey from Childers to Agnes Water was to be double that....just under 220 kms.

We hauled out onto Goodwood Road for the last time and drove the short distance through the cane fields and mango orchards

to the traffic lights at the intersection where we were about to re-join the Bruce Highway.

As we drove out through the town, and despite the fact this was a Sunday, we were soon again tussling with the big boys, on approach

and as they overtook us. Fortunately there were not too many semi-trailers travelling in our direction, which meant I did not have to sharpen my focus too often to assist them past us on this quite hilly section of the highway.

We transited the Burnett River

and passed many more large mango orchards which are a real feature of the landscape in this part of the country.

And then we had another of those highway wake up calls, where we were reminded that even a brief lapse of concentration, excessive speed, poor judgement, or driver arrogance can lead to a very unpleasant outcome.

This roll-over, which occurred a short distance from the large town of Gin Gin, actually featured on the evening local news. We were stunned to learn that the driver had walked away from the flattened cabin of his 4WD with nothing more than injured pride. Liz and I had both been expecting to hear or read of another fatality on 'The Bruce'. One very lucky lad!

We were still pondering the fate of those in the wreck as we reduced our speed on the approach into Gin Gin.

As I mentioned previously, this is a largish town, and I was pleased that the Sunday traffic was light along the main street.

This was far from the case at the end of the town. Here, a big service station and cafe obviously does very good tucker....these three are all we could capture of what must have been at least a dozen denizens of the blacktop crowded into the parking bays and beyond. 

We made a note of the gastronomic possibilities here as I increased the revs in the Cruiser and we again hit the open road. Less than 100 kms to go to Miriam Vale where the main highway is joined by the secondary road which would take us east to the coast.

By now the country slipping by our windows was decidedly drier and browner than that we had been traversing for the past hour or so, 

and the high ridges of the spine of the Great Dividing Range became a more constant backdrop to the view through the windscreen.

We were, by now, well and truly into the rolling hills which are a feature of the country 

near the port city of Gladstone and its surrounding region....but we were not going that far north today.

We had now entered a section of the highway which is designated as a 'fatigue zone'. Here the Queensland authorities have a novel way of assisting with improving driver concentration....highway trivial pursuit.

Some kilometres further along the way and the answer was presented. Bloody trick question if you ask me (I thought I was a shoe in with my answer of a blue whale).....and parochial to boot!

We had not really been in desperate need of a mental prod, but after a few more kilometres of the highway had faded in our rear vision mirrors,

it was time for my self-imposed mandatory two-hour break (and believe me, the navigator is always quick to remind me of the time elapsed if I get cocky or complacent).

Here we shared this large open resting bay with two in a much more modest mobile dormitory. 

Refreshed and drained (no, that's not a contradiction in terms!) we pushed on to Miriam Vale where the Baffle Creek Road was to take us part way to our destination.

We had travelled this road last year on our way into Bundaberg and knew that it was a good secondary highway. Nothing had altered since then.

This road ends at a junction where nine months ago we had turned right. Today it was a change of course in the opposite direction.

Fifteen kilometres to run. By now we had reached that point where we were beginning to wonder if our expectations would be met or dashed.

As we passed this pretentious claim to fame I began to suspect that Agnes Water may be a spot where the hype surpasses the reality. Time will tell, but I have to say we both viewed this proclamation with considerable scorn.

In no time we were on descent past one of the town shopping precincts (seen here through the kayak strap and CB aerial)

and thence along the street which borders our chosen park.

We had reached the Agnes Water Beach Caravan Park, a park about which we had heard much and at which we arrived with great anticipation.

Our site was literally across the road from the park office, and with a spot of juggling to miss the tree at the front, and some serious adjusting to level the van on the sloping lawn, we were soon set up.

This is an extraordinarily popular park. Despite the fact we had booked several weeks before our arrival, a stay of three days was all we could manage here. Our quest to take in as much as we could of this entire area, including 1770, about which the songs of praise had been even louder, meant there was no time to let the grass grow.

In my next we explore the park, the most northern surf beach on the Queensland coast, and the towns of Agnes Water and Seventeen Seventy.