Rockhampton rocks
We cruised out of Bundaberg in high spirits - we had clean clothes and plenty more space in the car - things no longer fell out of the boot when you opened it. We knew we weren't going to make it all the way to Airlie Beach (it was about 500 miles away - like driving from London to Fife) but there were a couple of free camp areas about half way that looked a safe bet.
When we got back out on to the Bruce Highway, we drove through several hundred kilometers of more or less nothing. The scenery was nice but I have rarely seen such a long stretch of road with no diversions. No towns, no service stations, no giant billboards - nothing. And we were still on the coast! Goodness knows what the outback will be like. By the time we reached Rockhampton, a large town that straddles the Tropic of Capricorn, we were pretty hungry. Rockhampton is famous for its cows and its beef, so I suggested to the girls we get some steaks. Their eyes lit up. We filled up the car at a BP garage and I asked the attendant for directions to the Criterion Hotel, which our Lonely Planet had described as being a good place to eat. He was friendly and helpful, but made it sound like not following his directions precisely would end in disaster.
"You go down to the river and turn right, then drive to the first bridge". At this point he leaned in as if to emphasize his next instruction. "But don't you go under that bridge, you hear? Don't you go under it or you'll pass the hotel". I began to wonder if there was another, more sinister reason he didn't want me to go under the bridge, after all I didn't think my dinner plans meant that much to him. But I thanked him, paid for the petrol and we set off to find the hotel. (Incidentally, petrol here works out at about 49 pence a litre.)
The guidebook was right - the hotel was excellent. Rockhampton itself looked very nice, lots of wide streets and old fashioned buildings, the town center was unspoilt - faded buildings with chipped paint - but it was very nice. The hotel itself was grand and welcoming and the steaks were juicy and very filling. I had also intended to see just what lay on the other side of the bridge, but I forgot. We got back into the car and drove for another hour until we came across our campsite, a large patch of grass at the back of a hotel in a tiny village called Marlborough, about a mile off the highway.
The sun woke us early the next day and we emerged from our ovens to begin another day on the road. The stretch of road from Marlborough to the next large town, Mackay, was largely desolate, but did provide a few diversions - my favourite being a freight train pulling 87 trucks (I counted). It would be inaccurate to say that the wildlife here was more abundant, because wildlife is everywhere in Australia. Even when standing in your own bathroom it's very easy to imagine David Attenborough finding plenty of exciting things to whisper about. The wildlife in this part of Australia is just a bit more obvious, especially from a moving vehicle. We had to dodge kangaroos, tortoises and frogs, all of which seemed to prefer the baking tarmac to the long grasses from which they had emerged to meet their flattened fate. While negotiating our way through a large creep of tortoises - and I bet you didn't know 'creep' was the collective noun for tortoises - Jen was very close to pulling the car over and attempting to rescue them.
We rolled into Mackay for lunch and made our way to the nearest shopping center. It's not that we particularly wanted to spend an afternoon in a large shopping center on the last Saturday of the Easter holidays - I'd sooner have gone to an opera - but that shopping center foodcourts are among the cheapest places for budget conscious travellers such as ourselves to eat. After this refuelling stop we hit the road again before arriving in Airlie Beach in the middle of the afternoon.
Airlie Beach is a bit like a miniature version of Byron Bay, only minus the beaches and the hippies. It's small, and the high street is jam packed with backpackers hostels and tour operators - the popular Whitsunday Islands are just off the coast. There also seems to be a larger portion of 'trendier' holiday-makers here. English people in their early twenties who look like they usually spend their summers in Ibiza or Tenerife. Unfortunately, when we arrived, there wasn't a single bed to be found in the hostels, and the campsites were way out of town. Eventually we had a mini-meeting and decided to treat ourselves to three nights in a motel - and a very well appointed one at that. After a month of camping it's wonderful having a fridge, a television, air conditioning and a shower that isn't coin operated. We've spent the last two days relaxing in our room watching movies and trash TV and eating junk food. It's been great. It'll be difficult camping again after this but I'm sure we'll survive. Tomorrow we'll begin our trek towards Cairns which is more or less as far north as you can go on the east coast, before coming back down to Townsville and heading into the outback. Cairns looks interesting, but I'll let you know about it when I get there.
When we got back out on to the Bruce Highway, we drove through several hundred kilometers of more or less nothing. The scenery was nice but I have rarely seen such a long stretch of road with no diversions. No towns, no service stations, no giant billboards - nothing. And we were still on the coast! Goodness knows what the outback will be like. By the time we reached Rockhampton, a large town that straddles the Tropic of Capricorn, we were pretty hungry. Rockhampton is famous for its cows and its beef, so I suggested to the girls we get some steaks. Their eyes lit up. We filled up the car at a BP garage and I asked the attendant for directions to the Criterion Hotel, which our Lonely Planet had described as being a good place to eat. He was friendly and helpful, but made it sound like not following his directions precisely would end in disaster.
"You go down to the river and turn right, then drive to the first bridge". At this point he leaned in as if to emphasize his next instruction. "But don't you go under that bridge, you hear? Don't you go under it or you'll pass the hotel". I began to wonder if there was another, more sinister reason he didn't want me to go under the bridge, after all I didn't think my dinner plans meant that much to him. But I thanked him, paid for the petrol and we set off to find the hotel. (Incidentally, petrol here works out at about 49 pence a litre.)
The guidebook was right - the hotel was excellent. Rockhampton itself looked very nice, lots of wide streets and old fashioned buildings, the town center was unspoilt - faded buildings with chipped paint - but it was very nice. The hotel itself was grand and welcoming and the steaks were juicy and very filling. I had also intended to see just what lay on the other side of the bridge, but I forgot. We got back into the car and drove for another hour until we came across our campsite, a large patch of grass at the back of a hotel in a tiny village called Marlborough, about a mile off the highway.
The sun woke us early the next day and we emerged from our ovens to begin another day on the road. The stretch of road from Marlborough to the next large town, Mackay, was largely desolate, but did provide a few diversions - my favourite being a freight train pulling 87 trucks (I counted). It would be inaccurate to say that the wildlife here was more abundant, because wildlife is everywhere in Australia. Even when standing in your own bathroom it's very easy to imagine David Attenborough finding plenty of exciting things to whisper about. The wildlife in this part of Australia is just a bit more obvious, especially from a moving vehicle. We had to dodge kangaroos, tortoises and frogs, all of which seemed to prefer the baking tarmac to the long grasses from which they had emerged to meet their flattened fate. While negotiating our way through a large creep of tortoises - and I bet you didn't know 'creep' was the collective noun for tortoises - Jen was very close to pulling the car over and attempting to rescue them.
We rolled into Mackay for lunch and made our way to the nearest shopping center. It's not that we particularly wanted to spend an afternoon in a large shopping center on the last Saturday of the Easter holidays - I'd sooner have gone to an opera - but that shopping center foodcourts are among the cheapest places for budget conscious travellers such as ourselves to eat. After this refuelling stop we hit the road again before arriving in Airlie Beach in the middle of the afternoon.
Airlie Beach is a bit like a miniature version of Byron Bay, only minus the beaches and the hippies. It's small, and the high street is jam packed with backpackers hostels and tour operators - the popular Whitsunday Islands are just off the coast. There also seems to be a larger portion of 'trendier' holiday-makers here. English people in their early twenties who look like they usually spend their summers in Ibiza or Tenerife. Unfortunately, when we arrived, there wasn't a single bed to be found in the hostels, and the campsites were way out of town. Eventually we had a mini-meeting and decided to treat ourselves to three nights in a motel - and a very well appointed one at that. After a month of camping it's wonderful having a fridge, a television, air conditioning and a shower that isn't coin operated. We've spent the last two days relaxing in our room watching movies and trash TV and eating junk food. It's been great. It'll be difficult camping again after this but I'm sure we'll survive. Tomorrow we'll begin our trek towards Cairns which is more or less as far north as you can go on the east coast, before coming back down to Townsville and heading into the outback. Cairns looks interesting, but I'll let you know about it when I get there.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home