Bird’s Nest Bevarage – 25% bird’s nest

Instead of taking the usual option of flying the vast distances to Alice Springs which is dead in the centre of Australia i decided to join a trip with Desert Venturer. Its not a tour exactly, more like a road trip with 30 odd other people. Am so glad i chose this option.

The company blurb (“You get to see the real Australia”) was spot on. Although i dislike totalizing any particular part of a country or aspect of its culture as the “real deal” i saw areas of the country that mirrored many of my preconceptions of Australia.

The trip is essentially just a means to get to the centre of the continent rather than see many of the sites along the way, though on our first day we did manage to see some of the ‘highlights’ of the route including the widest waterfall in Oz (unspectacular due to low rainfall), Australia’s smallest bar (a cupboard) and Porcupine Gorge (Australia’s mini Grand Canyon: very enjoyable to see how a small river over millions of years – or 6000 years if you are a creationist and happen to stand against the vast multitude of scientific fields of enquiry – has cut through different coloured rock, from reds to ochres, ashes, oranges and browns. It reminded me of of layered cake.

Our journey started in lush, muggy rainforest. By that evening the landscape had changed dramatically as it would continue to do throughout the three day journey. We were, after all traversing half the distance of the entire continent! Rainforest had morphed into lush grass, volcanic soil and the dairy farms of the Atherton Tablelands, after which eucalypt forests began to dominate.  

Our first night was spent in Hughenden. A small outback town. We stayed in the Great Wester hotel i think. Just what was great about it i do not know. Though we had dinner on the veranda i try not to use such sophisticated words lest people get the impression of high tea at the Ritz. This was a motel through and through. The bar was heaving as it was friday night; the Hughenden glitterati were out in force. Alas shampoo has still not permeated this area of the country. Likewise moral values banning sexual relations with a close members of your family have steered well clear from the town. As Bill Bryson so aptly puts it, this was a town that had clearly witnessed “generations of unbiblical sex”. I’m being overly judgemental though. We chatted to many of them after a thrilling game of Killer Pool (i was the last tour person in the tournament, which was eventually won by a local, and so won a stubby holder!) and they were all very amiable including two aboriginal guys who me and my new friend Alison got on with very well.

Next day was an early start so we could catch the sunrise over the outback. Quite stunning. It was now clear how deep into the continent we were. The terrain was flat and drier with much shorter shrisb and trees peppering the landscape. Stopped in Winton which was the birthplace of Australia’s unofficial national anthem: Waltzing Matilda.

Our next stop was Carrisbrook station, a cattle farm – though farm is not the correct term for these establishments. This particular station was 50 000 acres, and that is not particularly large. Some of the biggest dwarf many European states. The size of this country never ceases to amaze.

The owner of the station was Charlie and he showed us around 3 high lookouts which offered spectacular panoramic views of 2000 square km of dusty, red, flat outback country. While the driver prepared an Aussie BBQ for lunch he took us to see some aboriginal cave painting.  

Next leg of the journey took us to Middleton Pub, the sole building for hundreds of miles. Population? 6 – including pets!

Second days accomodation was Wirrelyena station, another cattle and sheep ranch. We all sat around a log fire drinking, eating a hearty meal prepared by our hosts, and playing with the pet kangaroo, puppies and pigs. The only downside was the hosts son. I kept trying to see if he had 666 on his head or if his name was Damian. I’ve never met a more obnoxious, rude or plain nasty boy. At one point, when he was kneeling over the fire i wanted to give him a short sharp kick in the butt and do everyone a favour.

Day 3 and we were now in the heart of Australia. Dead bushes and stoney desert gave way to nothingness. Just dust. We all got out and did a ‘nothingness’ walk, laughing nervously about how funny it would be if we broke down – but how unlikely it would be.

One hour later we had broken down. The back tyre blew. Stranded in the outback – well, for a good hour at least. Was kind fo exciting actually. we had provisions to last us days if necessary.

Once we got underway we amused ourselves with a game of ten pin bowling down the coach aisle using water bottles and an orange, a quiz in which i came third (i won a toy koala bear) and stopped to admire a five metre high termite mound.

The trip was brilliant. We all had a great time. I would recommend it to anyone thinking of flying. You don’t get up to much, you don’t see the most amazing sites in Oz, but it is fun and very sociable (and cheaper than flying).  

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Song of the Week:   

Waltzing Matilda – The driver clearly loved this song, he played it practically non stop. He even gave out the words and we all sang our little hearts out!

(Most annoying) animal of the week: 

Outback flies. For all that is good and true in this world, if i could have snapped my fingers and killed every last one of these critters i would have. This coming from a person that increasingly dislikes killing anything (I’m on the road to vegetarianism at the moment, when i get home at least). They were incessant. 50 would land on you all at once, buzzing in your ears and around your eyes. Every time you took a bite of lunch you inadvertently swallowed more protein than your food offered you. I started to look increasingly like a crazty person, arms flapping in the air, head twisting violently from side to side and eventually perfecting these techniques by running around in a small circle.

Best moment of the trip:

Watching two kangaroos hop across the outback as we listened to a didgeredoo being played on some tribal dance music. Could not have been staged better.

Townsville was my next stop after the Whitsundays. I hitched a lift with Becky and Lucy – who i had travelled with up to Byron Bay –  in their Wicked camper. These are an institution on the backpacking circuit; camper vans with awesome paint jobs which range from simple eye pleasing designs to more politically motivated slogans and pictures. George Dubya features on quite a few, invariably with a pun on the word Bush. After a journey which traversed the borders of hair-raising (whenever Lucy overtook – she usually forgot to get back in the correct lane), disaster movie (invasion of the green ants), and lastly, chilled (watching the sunset over some spectacular scenery) we arrived in Towsnville where i left the campers and met up with Gemma and Claire again. We only stayed in Townsville, which should be renamed Snoresville for one night before we took the ferry to Magnetic Island.

Maggie is very isolated, sparsely populated (2000 people i think), with one small food shop and a bar or two. I’m glad i came when i did, a commercialisation programme is currently udnerway which will completely change (read ruin) the atmosphere and feel of the island.

We stayed at Base which was in the middle of nowhere but thankfully right on the beach. One of the best hostels we’ve stayed in. The rooms are all self contained little huts perched on the granite rocks just behind the beach or lying on the the steep, rocky banks of a creek that was in the middle of the hostel grounds. The hostel was a series of low-rise buildings, huts, a pool area, bar (with a huge veranda and ocean views) etc. all in beautiful landscaped gardens and palm trees. Most of our time was spent in the hammocks reading and chatting.

All in all a great place for some ‘R and R’ before continuing the journey up the East coast where my last stop would be Cairns.

Cairns is, for most people who travel in Australia, the end (or the beginning) of their trip as the East coast is the most popular route undertaken by backpackers. So it was that within five minutes of checking into my hostel i had bumped into a host of different friends from my travels. Though Cairns is commercialised, uninteresting and geared around scummy backpacker bars (the Woolshed being the best/worst) full of Brits with various Union Jack items of clothing i knew i was going to have a good time meeting up with people whom i had shared many great experiences with, from Perth all the way up to the Whitsundays.

I travelled up with Gemma and Claire who had become my longest travelling buddys. We booked into Gilligans, a five star, uber-deluxe hostel. The Ritz of the hostel world. As usual these big, modern hostels are largely impersonal and unfriendly – Gesellschaft springs to mind (History degree friends should know what i mean) – but if you already have a group of friends it is well spectacularly equipped, clean and well maintained. We even got a fresh, clean, fluffy white towel on arrival. Having spent the last three months using a very handy but ultimately unsatisfying travel chamois using a real towel was blissful luxury. Backpacking fosters a deep appreciation for the small pleasures in life as will no doubt develop further when i reach deepest Asia!

Cairns was uneventful other than some fantastic nights out…thankyou Charlotte (from Fraser Island), Claire and Gemma, Mirthe and Becky (Surfers Paradise), Jen and Naomi (Townsville) Mark (Byron Bay) and finally, but by no means the least, Zita and Kirsty who i last met up with in Melbourne and who i’ve missed greatly.

The only redeeming feature of Cairns was my trip down the Tully River. White water rafting!  The Tully is one of the best places in the world to white water raft. It was one of the most fun thigns i have ever done. I’m just glad they told us three people had died in the last five years when i had got in the boat and not before.

We hurtled down the river, screaming as we plunged down rapids, paddled ourselves head first into huge rocks that then span us round and thrust us down the next one backwards. On quiet sections we were allowed to jump out and gently drift down the river. Then we tried body surfing where we individually threw ourselves head first into a rapid and it would hold us in the same spot riding the current. Other highlights included rafting under a waterfall (which felt like being pounded by rocks until eventually you found your head was between your feet), jumping out the boat and being sucked down a short, steep, natural water flume, and cliff jumping. A great day out!

Here are some pics:

Boat goes down…i scream

Boat comes up…i scream

Not sure what i’m doing with my oar in this one…screaming though.

Next stop – Alice Springs.