As a regular reader of www.taranstales.net you will have already learnt about our great side-trip to Darwin and the Kakadu and Litchfield National Parks; this was the last part of our travelling in Oz and the only part where we entrusted the driving to others and enjoyed the relaxation of being passengers. However, between our arrival back at my sister’s home in Bli Bli on the Sunshine Coast and our flight to Darwin, we got to know a bit more about life in southern Queensland.
We had spent the previous five weeks driving more than seven thousand kilometres, visiting three out of six Australian states or territories and sleeping in at least fifteen different beds, so getting back to Cescy’s house seemed like arriving ‘home’; at long last we could sleep in if we wanted and we didn’t have to re-pack each morning. Still, itchy feet made sure we didn’t get too settled and as we still had our rental car plus the additional luxury of occasionally being chauffeured around by Cescy and Richard, we were soon on the move again, albeit day-tripping only.
For our first local trip all four of us went to the Saturday market at Eumundi, a seemingly prosperous inland small town about twenty kilometres north of Bli Bli. What started out as a twice-weekly farmers’ market has blossomed and is now one of the largest country markets in the region. One could spend hours there as the range of goods was enormous, mainly lots of artisan work plus the usual gaggle of specialist juices, coffees and ethnic foods, and with stalls selling local farm produce seemingly very much in the minority. It was all rather civilised though and not really as much fun as the Fisherman’s Road market we had been to back in February, and nowhere near as outlandish as the small-town markets we enjoyed in France a year before.
In the end all that Celine and I came away with were a beautiful framed photograph of the local scenery, a CD of Didgeridoo music, a painting of local birds and a koala, and some traditional wooden toys for the grandkids “just like wot we ‘ad as children“; then we all chatted over coffee in a café across the road, enjoying the ambience of market day along with the music of The Raw Cigar Box Blues band.
Still nervous about letting the grass grow under our feet, the next morning we soon abandoned ideas of being sensible and checking our over-used credit card and sinking bank balances; instead we obeyed my inner man and went to a local food festival in Maroochydore. We bravely managed to avoid the many tempting but unhealthy offerings and instead shared a couple of actually very scrummy, veggie-filled, gluten-free tapioca wraps; apparently this use of tapioca is an old Brazilian recipe but it was definitely a first in our joint culinary experience. We followed that up with some beers, ginger for Celine and a very tasty schooner of Balter XPA for me, before getting home to a joyful reunion with my younger niece, Phillipa, the one member of that generation of the family I hadn’t seen for more than thirty years.
She hadn’t changed much at all and seemed anything but a stranger. She and her husband Mark moved to Margaret River in Western Australia many years ago ‘cos of the wonderful surfing to be found on that coast; the love of surfing is a recurring theme with nearly everyone in that generation of the McKenzie family, just like practically all Australians brought up on the coast it seems. So it was no surprise to learn that she and son George were spending most of their time in Queensland testing out the east coast surf again; after all this bronzed Aussie surfing girl was once the Australian Senior Women’s Champion, a ‘relly’ to be really proud of!!
We had another large family supper together that evening and all agreed that we should take a family outing to Australia Zoo, the last chance for Celine and I to see some of Australia’s more elusive animals that we had missed on our travels. Australia Zoo is a wildlife conservation facility set up by the crocodile hunter Steve Irwin and his wife Terri, and it was inevitable that a show involving salt-water crocodiles was a ‘must-do’ part of the visit. It was somewhat contrived however, and the big croc that Terri and the younger Irwins, Robert and Bindi, were enticing to jump up and grab the proffered lumps of dead flesh, seemed to have lost some of his man-eating hunger and had become rather bored with the whole business of being a circus performer. Still, the wild birds that opened the show did some impressive flying tricks, including one large parrot whose speciality was to grab, in flight, a five dollar bill from the hand of a spectator standing up in the bleachers. It reminded me a bit of the cake-grabbing kookaburra in Sydney’s Botanic Garden (see Oz 2018 Part 2).
The rest of the visit, however, was eminently more satisfying than the croc show. We saw a very friendly-looking Tasmanian Devil – friendly that is until he opened his mouth wide and showed us his bone crushing fangs – who evidently wasn’t aware they are nocturnal animals.
Our first live wombat was only slightly camera shy, the komodo dragon was impressive compared to the other lizards, the dingoes were rightly proud-looking animals, even if they are described in Wikipedia as merely being feral dogs of debatable taxonomic status,
and the mainly vegetarian red panda and the omniverous binturong were cuddly, regardless of their predatory eating habits!
Lots of beautiful birds though some, such as the bush turkey and the endangered cassowary, were not quite so endearing!
And yet, even though we had already seen plenty in the wild, the kangaroos and koalas were the real scene stealers, especially as we were able to get up-close and personal with them.
In another encounter with Australia’s wildlife, Celine had an amusing meeting with parrots at Maleny Botanic Gardens. We felt we needed to take another look at the Glass House Mountains in real life, after purchasing a beautiful photograph of them at Eumundi market. The weather was somewhat threatening near the coast but unperturbed we took the pretty route out to Maleny again, only to see the mountains disappearing as they were quickly engulfed by the low clouds drifting inland; it also started raining so we paused to consider our options, and retired to the café for coffees and cake. Once the rain had stopped, the idea of a rain-forest walk appealed initially but we soon abandoned that plan as well, realising we lacked the necessary insect repellent, suitable waterproof gear and leech-resistant boots. Instead we started to head home and after a couple of kilometres came upon the aforesaid botanic gardens. Of course just as we were about to pay our entrance fee, the heavens opened up again, and as we were about to return to the car, we met the owner of the gardens who asked us if I would like to take a photograph of Celine holding one of his parrots. Well we thought he meant ‘one’, but with both arms outstretched, Celine soon had ten of the lovely birds perched upon her, all of whom were very polite and well-behaved including the large white cockatiel on her head.
The rain continued on and off for the next few days but we still managed a couple more local walks. We had a bit of trouble finding the start of the trail up Mt Ninderry that towers above Yandina, but when we did eventually arrive we were greeted in true Aussie style by a couple of kangaroos enjoying the neighbours’ grass. The effort was well worth while as we enjoyed a wonderful hike up a fairly steep, partially stepped path through pretty open woodland to the top, from where we had good views from a couple of designated look-outs; plus we found a bonus spot where we stood right on the edge of a rocky promontory, watching various birds of prey flying by below us. The only sad part was seeing the three monuments to young people who had chosen to end their lives from that same precipitous outcrop.
Other outings we took that week included a fleeting visit to the heavily developed and extremely busy beach town of Noosa Heads. And finally to get away from the madding crowds, we took a gentle stroll along the Heritage Tramway Walk in Mons, a village a couple of kilometres outside Buderim. This lovely, almost level walk skirts around the edge of very steep hilly terrain, now covered in re-growth sub-tropical forest. It follows a 2 kilometre segment of the the Buderim to Palmwoods railway line that was built in the early 1900’s to help local farmers to move their produce, fruit and timber etc to the main-line station at Palmwoods and thence to market in Brisbane. Built entirely manually without mechanical aids, it is a fairly impressive piece of civil engineering from the mainly horse-powered age (https://www.buderim.com/tramway).
And so the day arrived for us to start out on our Kakadu adventure; but as our plane departed from Brisbane airport, we gratefully took advantage of yet another invite to relly-surf, this time with my godson David’s younger daughter, Alyce, and her boyfriend, Kris, who live in a green suburb a short drive from the centre of Brisbane. We arrived to find they had kindly planned a very complete day’s entertainment for us starting with a hike up Mount Coot’Tha. Less than five kilometres from Brisbane’s CBD, the look-out on the top gave us marvellous views of the city laid out below and out to the offshore islands protecting Moreton Bay.
We didn’t tarry too long as we still had to hike back down to their car, and they had easily realised that my speed on the trail was no match for their fit young legs! After a quick change back at their house, we headed out again with the back of their SUV full of a portable gas barbecue and coolers of food and beers. This time we made a bee-line for the grassy park atop Kangaroo Point Cliffs Park , a popular downtown picnic spot overlooking the Brisbane River, so popular that Sunday evening that by the time we arrived parking was hard to find and many of the picnic tables had already been bagged. So with a slight change of plan we opted to picnic closer to the water; and as the sun set and the lights of Brisbane’s business district started to reflect on the river, we settled down to a wonderful dinner of barbecued steaks and all the trimmings.
The next morning being a Monday, we awoke long after Alyce and Kris had left to pursue their medical careers in the city, and only Harold the cat remained to see us safely off the premises. We took our time leaving their happy period home, built very much in the original Brisbane style, eventually driving to the south bank and parking in the bargain-priced Performing Arts Centre Car Park. There was lots to see in that very attractive city and we started off by visiting the Queensland Art Gallery. They had there, a very interesting collection of 20th century aboriginal art, much of which was inspired by Albert Namatjira, a resident of a mission in the McDonnell Ranges, who decided to break away from the traditions of his people, with their abstract designs and symbols, and started to paint beautiful watercolours of the outback, in imitation of Western artists.
His story makes fascinating reading, and he even became the first Aboriginal to be granted restricted Australian citizenship.
The other major gallery in that area of the city is the Gallery of Modern Art, which we found much less interesting, and so we walked across the unusually designed Kurilpa foot bridge and onto George Street in the CBD. The city centre has its fair share of modern buildings, all the same we enjoyed our walk towards the Botanical Gardens, where we had proposed to meet Alyce’s sister, Danielle, for lunch; however, after a rather slow meander through the park, we arrived rather too late for lunch and found the café had just closed. So we grabbed a quick snack at the university refectory and continued on our way, following the riverside path until crossing the Goodwill pedestrian bridge back to the south bank.
The Commonwealth Games were still taking place, the official opening of which was the reason for Prince Charles’ visit to the country; so after walking past the Maritime Museum and an artificial “beach” where children were playing in the sand, we stopped at a riverside café for a well-earned rest and to enjoy our coffees and “patisseries” as we watched the day’s events on a massive TV screen at the riverside. Eventually it was time to drive to the airport, drop off our trusty Nissan X-Trail SUV, and catch our evening flight to hot sweaty Darwin.
The Kakadu trip was really our swan-song as we only had three more days back in Bli Bli before we had to pack our bags and get ready to fly home. Cescy had organised one more lovely family luncheon with the local McKenzies, which also served as a joint early birthday bash for David and myself. And then on our last night the four of us, Cescy, Richard, Celine and I, had dinner at Maroochydore Surf Club, a cross between a fancy yacht club and a typical Aussie “hotel” complete with the Totalisator Agency Board (“TAB”) TV screens for betting on televised horse and dog racing, and a small casino which was actually no more than a room full of fruit machines and an ongoing weekly high-value raffle; they certainly enjoy their betting in Australia. Still the food was good value, and the club provided a free shuttle service to and from home so no complaints from this one.
All good things come to an end and after ten wonderful weeks exploring the eastern side of Australia the time came to say our farewells. You can only “relly -surf” for so long before they begin to fear you might be moving in, but it was a risk worth taking as we had some delightful times with them all. The trip was a real eye-opener for Celine and I, as we had arrived with no expectations other than we were going to see lots of interesting wild animals and birds, and meet all the McKenzie clan; and so we were surprised to find ourselves at times actually wondering whether we should consider migrating to such a fine country. I think that much of this had to do with the ease with which we struck up so many friendly conversations with the locals, ‘cos of the common language; though we did also find many attractive small towns and some very beautiful countryside which would have been easy to live amongst.
All the same, Europe is still very much in our blood, and Australia offered very little of the cultural heritage we so enjoy. Anyway, thank you Australia and all our family there for giving us such a wonderful holiday and showing us so much natural beauty; we certainly hope we’ll see you all again ‘ere long, but no, we don’t see ourselves applying for Aussie residence visas in the near future. Instead we are deep into planning our next foray into the Old World, this time to Italy, basing ourselves in the province of Abruzzo. We fly mid-September and I hope to be travel-blogging again soon.
Street markets are of course an integral part of every French community, but so are boulangeries and patisseries and again Lyon was no slouch in this latter regard, tempting us with delicious custard filled Royals, or millefeuilles, and my favourite tartes aux pommes, seemingly at every turn in the street, and ensuring the ever-ready availability of slightly warm, yeasty-smelling fresh bread, of many more types than just the quintessential baguette.
The street markets of Lyon are much more than simply food, household wares, bric-à-brac and old books, as we discovered a couple of times when visiting the square outside St Jean Cathedral. Our first surprise there one Sunday morning was the Tapinieres du Vieux Lyon, a fair celebrating the ceramic arts. Every imaginable kind
ved with but many we were glad to be living without! However, we did end up with beautiful crafted, matching, surrealist fish pendant and earrings as our memoire of the day. Another visit to the same location a couple of weeks later, revealed a thriving marché des antiquités et brocante, an ideal place to browse if looking to furnish and decorate a small apartment on a budget.