Uluru.

When a Google search produces over 6.5 million results, writing anything else about Uluru becomes SO redundant I’m tempted not to use it for my Aussie ABC.

What’s left to say about this massive monolith of sandstone 348 metres (1141 feet) high, 3.6 km (2.2 miles) long, 1.9 km (1.2 miles) wide and 3.33 km² (1.29 miles²) in size? With a 10 km (6 mile) hike around the base if you choose not to take the steep 1.6 km summit track?? And the slowly oxidising surface iron giving it that distinctive red colour, an instant worldwide recognition factor and over 400,000 visitors each year???

But Uluru is WAY more than just statistics. An Uluru experience can be awe-inspiring, surprising, fantastical, adventurous, mind-blowing, healing and deeply moving.

Nothing says Australia quite like Uluru.

And nothing says Uluru quite like the nine different first impressions of the Rock shared by nine (8 + me!) travel bloggers!

1 Linda – Journey Jottings

Since I discovered Linda’s fabulous Journey Jottings products back in my early blogging days, they’ve accompanied me to a LOT of Aussie Hot Spots! But not Uluru – yet, anyway!

Linda says: ‘Everyone has seen a gazillion photos of Uluru, but its magical presence simply can’t be conveyed in 2D. And It holds surprises – Hidden delights you can only discover when getting up close and personal.’

Did you know, there are waterholes at Uluru?’

2 Neil – Bushwalking Blog

By Neil’s Bushwalking Blog standards, a tactful person would describe MY bushwalking skills as ‘average’! Perhaps I can get some hiking credibility like Neil’s on one of the Aussie Hiking Tours on his new website!

But it’s not all about the walks. Neil’s first impression of Uluru didn’t actualy involve hiking …

Neil says: ‘I was in a pretty bad place when I visited Uluru. I’ll never forget how depressed and hollow I felt as I drove out the Lasseter Highway, and then how its energy completely overcame me as I approached, and I burst into tears and had to pull over. My healing began right there on the side of the road, staring at that incredible rock.’

3 Jo – Zigazag

Jo’s fabulous travel and lifestyle blog Zigazag is a go-to for anyone who wants to discover Western Australia’s hidden secrets AND tales of travel from around the world! But Jo’s WA roots didn’t stop her from visiting Uluru – where you can see what the well-dressed mountaineer was wearing back then!!

Jo says: ‘I visited Ayers Rock in 1983 when I was working in Alice Springs. I can remember driving for what seemed like hours along a corrugated red road that made my fillings jangle, and arriving finally at a small hotel, or was it a roadhouse then, I can’t remember where I was told I could pitch my tent. Problem was I’d forgotten the tent pegs so I had to borrow some string to hitch it between two bushes.

Ayers Rock was such a quiet place back then and for me it had an ethereal quality about it and really did change colour at different times of the day. We were encouraged to climb ‘the rock’ when I visited although now I believe it’s actively discouraged. I can remember standing on the summit at a quiet spot on my own, hair billowing in the breeze, wearing a wrap around skirt and a green sweatshirt and feeling at one with the world in that vast horizon in a spiritual place.’

4 Annie – Go Camping

Full of advice about the Aussie camping scene along with gadgets, recipes and bizarre camping must-haves, Annie’s blog Go Camping is the place to be when you’re planning a road-trip or camping holiday.

Annie says: ‘My first impression of Uluru was that of stunned amazement – I had seen so many photos of it over the years, but nothing prepared me for its size and beauty. It really is awe inspiring when you are up close to it, and walking around the base, seeing all these different aspects of it.

Must do for every Aussie!’

5 Andy – Travelling Type

After getting my regular fix of out-of-the-way Australia from Andy’s blog Travelling Type, he inconsiderately moved overseas to live and work and the Aussie posts thinned out. SO … as revenge, I’m hoping this post makes him homesick as hell!

Andy says: ‘When I first sighted Uluru, it was apparent to me how vast the landscape was surrounding it. However, it wasn’t until I got up close to this whopping rock that it really impressed me, far more than I thought it would, as there are many folds, caves and ridges that lay within.’

6 Mandy – Travelling Australia With Kids

I’ve never travelled Australia with kids and probably never will. But I certainly agree with the concept behind Mandy’s great blog Travelling Australia With Kids – especially if it makes those kids grow up to appreciate the awesome natural attractions in OZ. Like Uluru!

Mandy says: ‘Something somewhere inside stirred and I felt like it was connecting with my soul! All sounds a bit spiritual, but seriously I was moved on a level I had not experienced before. I just wanted to look at it and experience it and absorb it. Hence 163 photos!

I could go on and on! We stayed at the nearby caravan park and I would wonder where my hubby was and he would be up at the lookout and vice versa. Every moment we could we would be just staring at it, transfixed almost, it actually became a bit odd as if it was drawing us in. But we just could not stop.’

7 Amanda – Adventures All Around

We’re both Aussie travellers, bloggers and red-heads, so that makes Amanda and I virtually twins, right? Apart from a few trifling details like her radio show, overseas travel and a few years in age! Amanda’s first time at Uluru was a very different experience as she writes on her blog Adventures All Around!

Amanda says: ‘I’d seen all the pictures and heard all the stories, but still nothing prepared me for what it feels like to be in the shadow of Uluru. To look up at that huge rock and see the caves and crevices and the colours.

Pictures don’t do it justice and my words won’t either. It’s something that needs to be experienced and that I hope to experience again.’

8 Michela – Rocky Travel

Michela’s travels in Australia, documented on her blog Rocky Travel, put many Aussies to shame. Her Top Tips for planning a road trip to Uluru are great advice – and she’s the only blogger to date that I’ve met face to face!

Michela says: ‘I vividly remember the feeling I had while approaching Uluru by car the first time. From the distance the Uluru growing bigger and bigger into its mighty shape. It was a strange feeling, a mix of awe, bewilderment, excitement, and a deep peacefulness. Right now by looking back at that moment I get shivers.’

9 Red Nomad OZ – RedzAustralia

On the 100 km trek along the road to Uluru from Curtin Springs, where we’d staged a two-person protest against the high cost of accommodation closer to the Rock, I was distracted by wildflowers lining the road – the result of a wetter than average year.

But then I looked up out the car window and there it was dominating the landscape and pulling us towards it like a magnet – maybe there’s something in the ley lines theory after all! I just HAD to get closer – but when I saw the WAY steep and exposed track to the top, I just knew I wouldn’t be climbing it.

So big it made the huge rocky domes of nearby Kata Tjuta look like marbles, Uluru’s ever-changing colours are endlessly fascinating. And the rocky pools, waterfall spots and wave-like formations made the base walk a wonderful experience.

Wanting a part of the rock made me almost see the point of those kitschy Uluru snow dome souvenirs too.  So I bought one – and it looked a bit like THIS!

With those 6.5 million results from the ‘Uluru’ Google search, I have no fear that this’ll become the definitive ‘go to’ post for travellers seeking information and inspiration about Australia’s iconic rock.

But travellers unedited first impressions never lie – so if you’ve been thinking about visiting or re-visiting Australia’s BIGGEST Rock Star, then DO IT NOW!

Have YOU been to Uluru? What was YOUR first impression of Australia’s TOP Rock Star?!

Want MORE?

• Uluru, Northern Territory
• Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park
• Central Australia
• TOP 7 Central Australian RED HOT Spots once you’re done with Uluru!
• MORE RedzAustralia Aussie ABC

The post U is for Uluru: 11 Photos; 9 Bloggers; One Awesome Rock! appeared first on Australia by Red Nomad OZ.

There’s a million dollar view over Mason Cove from the failed flour mill when the conditions are right. As they were for me on this fine and sunny autumn day.

I was outside.

It was warm.

And I was there by choice.

I was lucky. Those three factors aren’t always present on prison visits. They’re even less likely in a penal settlement as notorious as Port Arthur, Australia’s best known convict penitentiary on the Tasman peninsula, a 90 minute drive from Hobart.

Getting here at last had only taken … well, never mind how many years since I read about it. I was here now, so I slapped down the moral dilemma of whether or not it was ethical to spend money on being entertained by other people’s suffering and set off to enjoy myself.

Because that’s what you do in a World Heritage listed convict settlement, right??

A Room with a View

Despite being surrounded by evidence of suffering and death, Port Arthur is strangely serene. Although it’s unlikely the blissful serenity OR the staggering scenery would have been quite so noticeable to the 600+ convicts locked up in the flour mill – converted into the main penitentiary after a failed attempt to provide the colony with its own flour supply.

Perhaps the better outlook enjoyed by the well-behaved convicts from their bunks on the 3^rd and 4^th floors above the lower level cells containing the hardened criminals was a small consolation.

Maybe the only one.

As a secondary punishment site for repeat offenders from all over Australia, Port Arthur was modelled on the ideas of prison reformer Jeremy Bentham as ‘a machine for grinding rogues into honest men’*. That meant an unpalatable cocktail of discipline, religion, training and punishment by solitary confinement.

And all that grinding happened in an area with an annual rainfall of ~850 mm falling on ~190 days a year and maximum temperatures averaging below 15° C. That meant a LOT of cold, dismal days. No surprises about the high incidence of respiratory problems and rheumatic ailments.

Life at Port Arthur

Down here, with nothing much between the coast and Antarctica, a life sentence meant exactly that. At the narrow neck of land connecting the peninsula to the rest of Tasmania there’s a line of dogs. Around the peninsula are treacherous waters, massive cliffs and wild weather. Escape? I don’t think so.

So was ‘enjoying’ the ‘killer view’ during what I KNEW would be a short stay with a departure time chosen by ME profoundly disrespectful to the 1100 convicts and settlers buried on the Isle of the Dead out in the bay?

Because this view was the last one they’d seen??

Whether yes or no, I’m in good company. Renamed ‘Carnarvon’ when the prison closed in 1877 after nearly 50 years – and TEN commandants (yes, that’s what my post title means!) – the township soon became a tourist attraction and the name changed back to Port Arthur.

As tourist demand increased, it’s been re-developed and restored into a key site of the 11 that comprise the Australian Convict Sites World Heritage Property.

And the tourists who keep rolling in aren’t just here for the fine bakery food up in the Port Café!

There’s a fine line between having a keen and inquiring mind and just being plain nosey. So the fascination my glimpse into this other world so alien, yet so much a part of colonial Australian history, gave me could go either way. Right? RIGHT??

Discovering Port Arthur

Exploring the Port Arthur site makes those history lessons of (not so) long ago real.

There’s the contrast between the convicts and the officers spelled out in the rough stone cells vs the comforts of the commandants house.

The massive government gardens where officers and their families could escape the taint of the convicts under their charge.

The Dockyard employing up to 70, where 166 boats both large and small were built.

The first juvenile reformatory in the British Empire where boys from 9-17 were educated at Point Puer, just across Mason Cove.

The church where up to 1100 people attended compulsory services.

And questions I’d never before thought to ask were answered.

Questions like what happened when a convict ‘lifer’ became too old or ill work – and thus earn their keep? And what happened if the harsh conditions tipped a convict over the edge of sanity?

They were housed in the Pauper’s Depot (self explanatory) or Asylum – now a Museum and Study Centre – although I didn’t find out what happened to those still alive when the penal settlement was closed. Is this the forgotten tragedy of this era?

Modern Day Tragedy at Port Arthur

But the tragedies that define Port Arthur sadly didn’t end back in the late 1800s.

The Memorial Garden built around the remains of the Broad Arrow Café commemorates the 35 visitors and staff killed and 19 wounded by a gunman in 1996. It’s a place to honour the ordinary people like you and me whose lives were brutally and senselessly lost or changed forever.

And a place to re-affirm that life is to be enjoyed and savoured.

I’m still not sure if ‘enjoy’ is the right word to describe my day in Port Arthur. But I don’t think I’ll be taking my freedom, choices and life for granted any more.

Have YOU been to Port Arthur?  Do you have family connections from Port Arthur??  Let me know in the comments below!

Want MORE?

• Port Arthur Historic Site
• Australian Convict Sites World Heritage Property
• Discover Tasmania
• MORE Photos on Flickr

Don’t take my word for it – make your OWN date with history and see it for yourself!  These cheap flights will get you started!

* Quoted from the Port Arthur Historic Site Visitor Guide, also used extensively as a reference for this post.

The post The Ten Commandants, Port Arthur, Tasmania appeared first on Australia by Red Nomad OZ.

Australia aggressively markets itself as all sunshine, surf and sand; red rocks, red dust and reefs.  But a visit to the Border Ranges National Park will show another side.

Ancient sub-tropical rainforests of Gondwana clothe the sheer cliffs formed by the eroded caldera of what’s left of a massive shield volcano. They’re so unlike anything else you’ll see downunder they’ve been World Heritage listed.

On my first and only other visit to the Border Ranges National Park I could hardly walk thanks to a strenuous 9 km return hike the day before up Mt Warning – the volcanic plug in the middle of the Tweed Volcano, and first place to see the sun on mainland Australia.

Other than a relentless climb, the walk was straightforward – until I got to the last 400m or so straight up the almost bare rock of the volcanic plug that forms the 1157 metre high summit!

Although the real leg damage was done coming back down.

That’s where I developed my revolutionary mountain-descent technique.  It’s a cunning combination of a death-grip on the chains that marked the track, and sliding down on the seat of my pants.

I dare you to try it sometime!

But it meant that the next day in the Border Ranges National Park, I only saw those attractions within easy walking distance from the car park areas.

Now, nearly 20 years later, and with no major hikes under my belt from the day before, it was finally time to explore the park a little more thoroughly.

We’d already entered a more remote section of the park and walked the Border Loop trail (see below) on one of Australia’s quirkiest road trips – the Lions Road – that cuts through the range to Queensland. But today, we were headed for the the main section of the Border Ranges National Park.

On our first trip, we’d taken the Murwillumbah-Kyogle road from Murwillumbah for about 38 km to the southern entrance. This time, we were staying at Kyogle so we approached the southern entrance from the other direction.  We planned to drive through the park, exit via the western entrance, and return to Kyogle the back way.

We’d woken up to a killer frost in Kyogle that morning.  But the fine winter’s day meant the dirt roads throughout the park were easily navigable and the walking tracks weren’t muddy! And yes, that IS noteworthy in case you’re wondering.

Can you guess why it’s called RAINforest?

While the park isn’t far from either Kyogle or Murwillumbah, it’s too far to backtrack for lunch. Stocking up with enough provisions to affect our fuel economy is easy when the awesome Kyogle bakery is near the Kyogle Caravan Park!

It’s amazing how much bakery food you can eat in just one day, isn’t it? Or is that just us?!?!?!

A few kilometres from the park entrance was the Bar Mountain picnic area and our first walk of the day. The Falcorostrum Loop – named for a rainforest orchid variety – winds through a large stand of Antarctic Beeches.

But who cares about an old tree (or two) when there’s the shy Alberts Lyrebird watching from behind the ferns? Not Pilchard!!

The staggering scenery from the three lookouts on the edge of the escarpment are pretty impressive.  That’s if the 1000m drop down to the Tweed Valley below doesn’t scare you rigid. I didn’t need any signs warning me not to stray off the paths. Even if I wasn’t the world’s biggest coward there’s NO WAY I’d go near the edge without a railing between me and the drop off!

The Pinnacle Lookout is the centrepiece of the staggering scenery with a dramatic and far ranging view down to Mount Warning and the Tweed Valley.

I chose to see the blue haze caused by smoke from a controlled burn in the distance as ‘atmospheric’ rather than ‘annoying’.

It did give my photos a certain ambience, don’t you think?!

After the lookouts, a one-way road loop descends into the Brindle Creek Valley. In the valley is the Helmholtsia Loop walk, named for a stream lily endemic to the region.  Just hope like hell that everyone else on the road a) reads the signs and b) follows them!

This is World Heritage rainforest at its best.  Even if it’s dark and damp under the canopy in a way that sunny South Australia with its wide open spaces isn’t.

We didn’t get to see the view from the Tweed Valley Lookout at the end of the road loop. There was no warning on the narrow road and only a one-car parking bay that we didn’t see until we’d gone past.

And yes, although it’s a narrow, winding, one-way dirt road, we could have just backed up.  But that would’ve been WRONG! Never mind … the view from the road was pretty stunning.

Although it was only mid-afternoon, the shadows were already long and the valleys dark.  The Sheepstation Creek camping area at the park’s western entrance was filling up.

The Palm Forest Walk winds down the – yes, you guessed right – Sheepstation Creek gully.  The trail winds amidst – yes, you guessed right – Palm Trees!  It leads to Brushbox Falls following an old logging road with names and dates from people and times long past carved into the rocky walls.

At what point does graffiti become historic art, anyway?!?!

Once we’d returned to the campground, the smoke from the just-lit campfires was giving pyromaniac Pilchard a little buzz.  But sadly, it was time to leave via the park’s western entrance. As we drove through more spectacular scenery outside the park boundary along the Lynches Creek Road to Wiangaree, then back to Kyogle the sun was setting behind the mountains.

The evening winter cold was setting in too – it would be another frosty night.

Driving to and from the park, sightseeing, hiking several of the shorter loop trails and vantage points AND eating the massive stash of Kyogle bakery provisions was a full day job. To hike any of the longer trails – ranging from 3.5 to 10.5 km – staying at either Sheepstation Creek or Forest Tops campground would have been a better option.

But I’ll save that for my third visit!

Want MORE?

• Border Ranges National Park

• Mount Warning (Wollumbin) National Park
• The Lions Road
• Kyogle, New South Wales
• More Border Ranges National Park Photos on Flickr

The post A Day in the Border Ranges National Park appeared first on Australia by Red Nomad OZ.

Even if I’d been to Woodenbong BEFORE I listed the Aussie place names that WON’T keep you guessing, it never would have made the cut.

Yes, there really IS a town called Woodenbong.

And no, this Northern New South Wales town just south of the Queensland border and ~150 km west of coastal hot spot Byron Bay ISN’T named after a giant wooden bong. Nor did I find anything else in its surrounds to which its unusual name could be attributed.

But I DID find a small town worthy of a TOP Aussie Towns title! Here’s FIVE good reasons why!

1. The Scenery

It’d be hard for Woodenbongians (Woodenbongites? Woodenbongese?? The Woodenbongish???) NOT to brag about their scenic setting.  The town is surrounded by several distinctive rocky crags, the remnants of an ancient shield volcano. Ironically, they’ve all got names like ‘Edinburgh Castle’; ‘Bald Knob’ and ‘South Obelisk’. In fact, Woodenbong could have been named for any of these with no mystery whatsoever!

The scenery doesn’t end at the township.

The nearby eroded volcanic remains, lush rainforests, picturesque waterfalls and spectacular lookouts are worth the drive on the sometimes challenging roads! How did I get that great photo of Mt Lindesay (below)? I took it while Pilchard was changing a flat tyre, of course

A mere $10 (+ $1 for a hot shower) per night will get you a powered site in the community camping area at the sports oval making Woodenbong an ideal base from which to explore the Upper Clarence region, of which this is a part. And who knows? You might be as lucky as we were and get to be there for the school sports day!

2. The Pizza

It’s SO not a tragedy that Woodenbong doesn’t have a bakery when the pizzas from the Woodenbong Hotel (can’t miss it, there’s only one) are THIS good. Oh, so you want a photo?? It’s not going to happen – who thinks about taking photos with a FINE pizza in front of them?

The Pub’s worth a visit in it’s own right. It’s a beauty inside and out, with friendly and welcoming staff, open fires, a lounge room with books and magazines, and an excellent menu. But who am I kidding? If you ever find yourself at the Woodenbong Hotel, you’ll also be right in the hub of the pizza universe so just do yourself a favour and order the pizza!

You’re welcome

3. Australia’s Worst Road?

What was once the Lindesay Highway stretches from Beaudesert up north in Queensland, through Woodenbong, then southwest to Tenterfield. Until it reaches Woodenbong, it’s a pretty good road. From there, it’s a disgraceful collection of potholes, ragged edges, steep drops, rocks, blind corners, narrow passes and undulating surfaces.

As a highway, minimum standards of quality and upkeep are expected. But with a simple re-badging from ‘Mt Lindesay Highway’ to ‘Mt Lindesay Road’ around about Woodenbong, those pesky maintenance fees just melt away like mist in the sun! It’s a shame about the poor beggars who have to risk their lives actually using the road …

So why have I listed it as one of Woodenbong’s attractions? It’s the route to some of the most scenic spots in the region! AND an adventure – if you treat it with the respect it deserves!

4. The Natural Attractions

Just down the road and round the corner on a scenic drive from Woodenbong, Tooloom Falls, complete with picnic area, loos and campground is a great starting point. The 8 metre drop means the cows drinking at the pool below the falls have NO chance of making it upstream! According to one tourist brochure, the name is derived from an Aboriginal word ‘Dooloomi’ – or headlice – so named to deter youngsters from swimming in the dangerous pool!

A little further on is lovely Tooloom National Park with its loop trail through the World Heritage listed Tooloom Scrub and a lookout with magnificent views across the Koreelah Valley. A detour off the scenic drive and remote Koreelah National Park brings you face to face with Australia’s Gondwana Rainforest – and Koreelah Falls.

Drive south through the magnificent flooded gums of the Yabbra State Forest lining the Bonalbo road to another scenic gem – the Bean Creek Falls (see above), part of a network of creeks at the headwaters of the Clarence River.

A shortish drive across the border into Queensland past Mt Lindesay, and the distinctive peaks of World Heritage listed Mt Barney National Park rise against the skyline. Several shorter hikes make this wilderness area accessible, with longer treks recommended for experienced bushwalkers only.

If you’ve had the guts to travel the Mt Lindesay Road, then Queen Mary Falls just over the border with Queensland is a fitting reward – or at least a handy rejuvenation point for the death-defying drive back to Woodenbong! Part of the Border Ranges National Park, there are several falls along the road to Carrs Lookout, a spectacular view across the Condamine Valley.

And that’s just for starters!

5. The Scenic Public Loos

These aren’t the main public amenities in Woodenbong. They’re not even the main conveniences at the sports oval and camping area! But, they’re the most scenic! Especially when set off by an unseasonal black stormy sky erupting into a wild storm and lashing rain, finishing off the school sports day and driving us inside the camper trailer for a fiercely competitive bout of word games until it was over!

Post-rain sunsets really ARE the best!

There’s a lot we haven’t yet seen and done in and around Woodenbong – but that’s OK! I see another visit to this intriguing area in our future …

And the name?  It’s from an Aboriginal word meaning ‘ducks on water’!

Want MORE?

• About the Town
• Upper Clarence Region
• New South Wales

The post Why Woodenbong is a TOP Aussie Town! appeared first on Australia by Red Nomad OZ.

‘I would NOT like to fall down there,’ the backpacker remarked to his mates with that peculiarly British mixture of overconfident understatement and blinding obvious as he stared down into the depths of the crater.

They nodded wisely, unsure whether or not they’d heard something profound, but deciding to play it safe.

Banal though his utterance was, however, he was right. 58 metres (193 feet) WAS a long way down to the green water-weed infested pool at the bottom of the crater. And I didn’t want to fall down there either.

Acrophobics* like me clung to the heavy duty railing to peer over the edge. Mt Hypipamee’s famous crater was giving me the heebie-jeebies. I wondered how long it would take a falling object – say, a human sacrifice – to hit the green depths far below the crater rim.

I didn’t have to wonder for too long.

The backpacker’s girlfriend picked up a stick and casually twirled it like a baton as she glanced at me sideways. Come to think of it, they were ALL glancing at me sideways as they hogged the railing, showing none of the usual tourist hot-spot etiquette whereby each gets an equal turn at the best photo vantage point.

It was pretty obvious I was the only one not of their kind with my tan, thongs and 20+ year head start.  What were they looking at? My hair-dye job wasn’t THAT bad, was it?

After shooting around them without using my elbows for their god-given purpose as they continued to take up most of the viewing space at the railing, I’d taken as many photos as I could. Their glances were really starting to creep me out.

What were they waiting for? A human sacrifice??

Approximately 5.918 seconds later the stick hit the water, trailing greenly through the native waterweed on its surface.

Judging by the number of similar trails in the water, I guessed she wasn’t alone in ‘testing’ the depth of the water.

What we couldn’t see, however, was the depth of the pool beneath the protective waterweed layer. Estimated at around 82 metres (273 feet) deep, the pool lay still and silent, or would have but for the stick-and-stone-throwing tourists.

Managers of the stunning Millaa Millaa caravan park where we’d based ourselves in July 2011 on the Tablelands above Cairns in Far North Queensland had given us a list of local attractions. One of several was Mt Hypipamee National Park on the southern Evelyn Tableland and within the Wet Tropics World Heritage Area.

Although due to a little flirtation with the facts its technically incorrect colloquial name – ‘The Crater’ – is pure Aussie overstatement. More accurately known as a diatreme or volcanic pipe, it’s thought to have been formed by gas from an underground explosion that expanded to form this deep, cylindrical hole.**

The fact sheet suggested the we look out for platypi*** in the pool and I’d assumed them to be the cause of the waterweed trails. But now I knew the REAL explanation, I wondered if it were possible for platypi – or indeed any creature that couldn’t escape the pool’s closed ecosystem – to survive.

Where was a Platypus Whisperer when you needed one?

On a previous trip to the area, we’d discovered Pilchard’s remarkable talent for spotting platypi, as like the Pied Piper of Yungaburra, he’d seen them at every turn along a river walk. After a while, I and the delighted Swiss family trailing in his wake gave up looking for them ourselves, and just waited for him to point them out.

But Pilchard, the only Platypus Whisperer I know, was busy at the forest edge (aka ‘carpark’) with a couple of other twitchers**** spotting North Queensland endemic Golden Bowerbird (Prionodura newtoniana) high in the trees above.

Later we would go to a TOP SECRET location through leech-dripping rainforest to see the Bowerbird’s bower – with only one use, the avian equivalent of a teenage boy’s chick-magnet hot-rod (I’ve included a mediocre picture of it to satisfy your prurient curiousity) (oh, and you’re now one of not very many people in the world who’ve seen a Golden Bowerbird’s bower)(albeit virtually).

But a more than passing knowledge of the mating habits of bowerbirds wasn’t going to help me with the platypi question. And neither were the backpackers who, having confirmed the depth of the diatreme wasn’t an illusion with their scientific stick, left in a gaggle, speaking loudly of their impending pub-crawl.

And now, gazing into the green waterweed down the green, green vegetation clinging to the granite wall 70 metres (233 feet) away on the other side was making my eyes go funny. If there WERE platypi, they hadn’t made an appearance yet.

I peered more closely into the depths. Was there a movement?

Forget the platypi.  Could there be a Ness-like monster lurking in the depths, trapped by time and a prehistoric explosion?

I wondered whether the Mt Hypipamee Crater had ever claimed a victim. A little introspection goes a long way in a place like this Or maybe I just needed to get back to normality.

That is, if a group of twitchers intent on hunting down a (feathered) bird’s love nest was normal. But it says a lot for the Mt Hypipamee Heebie-Jeebies that as I emerged from the rainforest into the relative sanity of the car park, it was!!

* Acrophobia = fear of heights

** According to the Tablelands Parks and Forests brochure produced by Queensland Parks & Wildlife Service

*** Platypi = more than one platypus

**** twitcher = birdwatcher

Want MORE?

• Mt Hypipamee National Park (The Crater)
• Millaa Millaa Tourist Park
• Atherton Tablelands, Far North QueenslandC

The post The Hypipamee Heebie-jeebies … appeared first on Australia by Red Nomad OZ.

‘Shark! Everyone out of the water!!’ he yelled, and I involuntarily jumped back from the guardrail high above Eagle Bluff, my movement triggered by that most primeval of Australian fears: Shark Attack!!

The amphitheatre of crumbling white rock plunging down into the green shallows of the bay below from the tourist brochure HAD to be trick photography, I’d thought upon seeing a photo of Eagle Bluff in Shark Bay. The sea around Denham, closest town 20km up the road from the bluff, was blue. And the distant dunes and cliffs were red!

But the view from the boardwalk was exactly like the pictures – except for the shark, cruising lazily across the glinting green waters of the gigantic lagoon below the bluff. The young man hadn’t been joking about that – but the chances of losing a limb to THIS shark were negligible. The boardwalk upon which we stood was WAAAAAY too far above sea level for anything but a non-existent wingless shark to negotiate.

The young traveller who’d sounded the alarm was grinning like an idiot at the consternation he’d created. At least I wasn’t the only one torn between two bluffs, looking like a fool.

Although I’m not so much of a fool as to take the snorkelling tour into those shark-infested waters …

It doesn’t require a great leap of imagination to figure out why the Shark Bay World Heritage area is known as Shark Bay!

Although the heritage listed graffiti carved on a rock that announced the 1858 arrival of Captain Henry M Denham, namesake for Shark Bay’s largest town, is no longer above Eagle Bluff. Threatened by erosion, it’s part of Pioneer Park in the Denham township.

The view goes further than the shallow green waters below the bluff. Past the line where the green gives way to the darker blue and deeper ocean, birds nest on the offshore Eagle Islands, once mined for guano. Also visible on a clear day are the mountains of salt awaiting export from Useless Loop, its name derived from Havre Inutile (Useless Harbour), the original name bestowed by French explorer de Freycinet.

Beyond Useless Loop, it’d be a lie to say I could see Steep Point – westernmost edge of mainland Australia – through the heat and salt haze. But it’s out there somewhere! And this is as close as I got – this time, anyway!

From the boardwalk running the length of Eagle Bluff, sea creatures like dugongs, rays, turtles and sharks are clearly visible in the waters far below, should they deign to appear. And appear they all did on two separate visits – although we actually spent more time observing the deeply fascinating human behaviours of visitors to this startlingly scenic spot.

Perhaps keeping up with social media IS more important than taking in the astonishing coastal panorama and nearly endless parade of wildlife swimming below. But if that’s the case, why bother coming?

And I didn’t think my Australian accent was so incomprehensible that ‘dugong’ could be mistaken for ‘shark’! But somewhere back in England, a young tourist is probably right now showing off his ‘shark’ photos, his audience none the wiser about the true identity of the dugong shaped blob in the water …

We’ll never understand why we were the only ones to take the rough, but clearly marked track from the car park to a vantage point with magnificent views up and down the coastline. Or why reading interpretive signs has become a lost art. And is getting a photo really worth stepping off the boardwalk onto the eroded and crumbling cliff edge, risking a plunge to the green, shark-laden depths below?

I see a stint as the tour guide from hell in my future … and although the Shark Attack Alert bluff at Eagle Bluff threw me for a (Useless) Loop, that won’t stop me from paying it forward next time I’m in Denham!!

Want more information?

• Shark Bay Attractions
• Shark Bay World Heritage Area
• Denham, Western Australia
• Useless Loop
• Steep Point (Mainland Australia’s westernmost point)

The post What to see at Eagle Bluff, Shark Bay, Western Australia appeared first on Australia by Red Nomad OZ.

Most people know what a traditional Scotsman wears under his kilt*.

But far fewer people know what a Frenchman wears under his sarong!

I’d never given this tragic gap in my knowledge any consideration whatsoever – I mean, who associates Frenchmen with sarongs?

But if this vexed question HAD been keeping me awake at night, I certainly wouldn’t have expected to find the answer on top of a mountain overlooking the gorges along the Charles Knife road south of Western Australia’s Exmouth!

Although perhaps the narrow peninsula of the North West Cape with its own ecosystem and weather patterns, and the amazing diversity of the World Heritage Ningaloo Marine Park and Cape Range National Park invites the unexpected.

And in stark contrast to the magnificent western beaches and gorges, we certainly didn’t expect the scenic grandeur of the Cape’s eastern lookouts, scattered along the narrow, rocky, dusty, steep and horribly exposed ridge-top road of the Cape Range anticline.

A road WAAAAY more suited to a Land Rover 4WD than a more conventional vehicle like ours.

And even less to the van struggling up the incline behind us as we carefully negotiated the narrow, single lane on the knife-edge ridge!

With ‘Tracy’ emblazoned on the bonnet, and its three occupants in classic feet-on-the-dashboard travelling pose, it closed the gap between us and pulled out to overtake.

Strangely unwilling to take part in a random murder/suicide pact with Tracy’s unknown (to us) occupants, Pilchard sped down the middle of the road with the van in hot pursuit.

But finally, superior tyres, aerodynamics and handling won out and we pulled away.

The rough, rugged and rocky track to the final lookout had deterred the less adventurous, but a deserted combi van painted all over with symbols and random Australian place names had made the trip before us.

Looking around, it became apparent that without an 8km hike, the magnificent views from the road below would not be matched at THIS spot.

As we searched in vain for a better lookout spot, two figures emerged from the rugged rocky area below the track. The leader, saronged, shirtless, tanned and dreadlocked greeted us in perfectly broken English.

‘Did you walk to the lookout?’ I asked, taking in the bony outline of his clavicles in that twilight zone somewhere between ‘lean’ and ’emaciated’.

He smiled and gestured to his bare feet. ‘Non, madame. I have not the shoes,’ his beautiful accent a clear indicator of nationality.

Of course. What was I thinking? A barefoot hiker clad in a sarong – and a ‘do rag’ holding back the dreads??

His taciturn companion, also shirtless, but terminally cool with trousers slung so low his family jewels were in serious danger of being rendered useless by the spinifex and thorny shrubbery at the exact right height to do serious damage, lurked behind looking disinterested.

Perhaps we were too old and/or unfashionable to be worthy of his consideration. Or maybe he didn’t speak English.

The leader continued. ‘We went to the cave,’ he gestured vaguely behind him. ‘It is not very big so we come back.’

Noise erupted behind us as Tracy pulled into the carpark. Low pants slunk off towards the combi.

‘Is the lookout far from here?’ I asked, wondering what exactly Sarong man and Low pants had been up to in the cave.

‘We did not go there,’ he replied, teeth white against his tan.

Noise erupted behind us as Low Pants and Tracy’s occupants greeted each other in the manner of explorers in a land of aliens discovering they are at last amongst their own kind. Celebrating their new friendship with a blast of rap music gave us our cue and we turned to leave.

Maybe Low pants was right and we were just too dull and boring for words …

‘I have not the shoes,’ the Frenchman repeated. ‘And also,’ he gestured to the sarong slung low around his hips, ‘I have not the pants!’

You heard it here first!

Want more information?

• Cape Range National Park
• Exmouth
• North West Cape

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The post What Does a Frenchman wear under his Sarong?! appeared first on Australia by Red Nomad OZ.

The dim yellow light cast a long dark shadow flickering balefully over the seeping rock as we descended deeper into the gloomy cavern. Treading carefully over the uneven rock floor, we dodged the oozing columns towering high above as we rounded the corner to leave the daylight behind.

Channelling ‘Becky’ to Pilchard’s ‘Tom Sawyer’ in a weird re-enactment of Mark Twain’s classic*, I half expected ‘Injun Joe’ to materialise from the shadows and scare us witless. But here, the menace was far more sinister …

Did I mention we were in a cave?

A light flickered to life and I gasped involuntarily as an ominous silhouette emerged from the semidarkness.

Thylacoleo carnifex, Australia’s own lion, bizarrely amplified by the shadow of his skeleton, face frozen forever in a snarl of despair. As it would if one’s prehistoric life had been cut short by falling through the roof of this subterranean system of limestone caves. At least, that’s probably what happened …

Did I mention we were on a tour??

Those who, like me, find the concept of Ice-Age Megafauna both fascinating and terrifying will likely find the Naracoorte Caves National Park – and Australian Fossil Mammal site – an intriguing glimpse into the past. And one not seen by many! Despite its World Heritage Status, this little-known National Park with Australia’s most complete fossil record of Pleistocene megafauna tucked away in the wilds of South Australia is unknown to many Australians.

Did I mention that megafauna are now extinct???

But it wasn’t megafauna that posed the biggest threat to our equilibrium during our April 2009 visit. Just down the road from the Wonambi Fossil Centre, the well maintained campground has all sorts of native fauna up close – including the voracious and unwelcome mosquitoes!! Plugging the gaps in our camper trailer canvas with tissues kept most of them out in the end – although happily, Pilchard’s mosquito magnet qualities kept them from me anyway …

Although the nearby – and aptly named – ‘Mosquito Creek’ should have provided a clue when we set up camp for a few days!!

While it’s unknown why megafauna no longer roam this corner of the continent, the well preserved skeletons of over 120 vertebrate species found so far in the caves may one day provide a clue. However, while the risk of death by megafauna is now nil, the good old Aussie Wombat– smaller descendant of Diprotodon – provides a more subtle threat to the unwary. While this benign looking marsupial is unlikely to attack**, stepping in its underground burrow may result in a nasty injury!

Far better to explore the four main caves and Wonambi Fossil Centre – part of Australia’s biggest Volcanic Province, the Kanawinka Geopark; and all within easy walking distance of the campground. The variety of self-guided and guided tours will meet most visitor requirements. With the possible exception of the very claustrophobic …

Back in the Victoria Fossil Cave, we left Thylacoleo behind to admire a mirror-like pool and the magical stalagmite and stalactite formations. The malevolent megafauna menace had passed. Peace reigned.

Until we emerged back into daylight and to a nasty yapping little dog disturbing the peace in the carpark, and we wished that the megafauna would arise once more!

Just for a moment …

Want MORE?

• Naracoorte Caves National Park
• Wonambi Fossil Centre
• Naracoorte, and Naracoorte Visitor Information Centre
• Australian Megafauna
• MORE things to do on the Kanawinka GeoTrail
• MORE Limestone Coast Adventures
• MORE Photos on Flickr HERE!

The post OZ Top Spot #12 – Naracoorte Caves National Park, South Australia appeared first on Australia by Red Nomad OZ.

We Arrive on Green Island

Although it was 20 LOOOONG years since our last Green Island National Park visit, Pilchard’s first action on our return just MAY have been a little bit extreme.

I mean, propelling a perfectly good hat into the sea wasn’t some kind of superstitious ritual, was it? Did he perhaps think it meant we wouldn’t have to wait another 20 years before our next visit??

But the capricious gust of wind that had plucked the hat from Pilchard’s head and flung it into the depths where it sank like a stone was pure accident.

AND embarrassing.

From the frenzied clicking and suppressed giggles behind us, I strongly suspected the whole episode had been captured on film …

Our return to Green Island wasn’t going well …

Green Island – the Facts!

The 12 hectare rainforest-covered coral cay – known as the Green Island Recreation Area – is one of the most popular and accessible tourist destinations in the Great Barrier Reef, a short 27 km (~17 miles) boat trip from Far North Queensland’s Cairns.

Green Island’s Fascinating Past

Estimated to be several thousand years old, post-colonial plunder and exploitation have threatened the island’s continued existence since its charting and naming by Captain James Cook in 1770. But luckily, the multi-layered protection that several regulatory authorities jointly brings will prevent further structural, environmental and biological damage, given the accountability and harmony so often seen in competing bureaucracies. Right???

But changes to the island landscape since 1770 are far greater than those observed by Pilchard and I after our 20-year hiatus! Green Island’s new (to us!) interpretive boardwalk charts the effects of human interaction – and the changing demands for its resources.

From Guru-Gulu Gungandji Indigenous people’s hunting and initiation ceremony site to present day recreation area of reef, resort and National Park has been a long and bumpy road for this beautiful spot.

‘Plunder’ and ‘pillage’ the 1800’s themes, the island was exploited trashed cleared by bêche de mer fishermen who had no use for pristine rainforest and reef while involved in this labour-intensive industry. But in the 100+ years since the processing plant, living quarters and gardens replaced the forest, it’s grown back completely – with 134 charted plant species today.

During this time drunken ‘picnic’ parties, like those described in this postcard facsimile above, decimated island resources with activities including, but not exclusive to dynamiting fish, shooting birds and souveniring coral!

In what the unkind may describe as ‘poetic justice’, one local character’s arm was amputated after a nasty accident with the dynamite while ‘fishing’! Could this have been the rise of the notorious Aussie ‘yobbo’**??

In an almost complete turnaround, the island’s potential for tourism was exploited developed in the 1900’s complete with world firsts – including glass bottomed boats for underwater viewing, films of life on the Barrier Reef and Cassius, the largest crocodile (5.5m or 18′) in captivity in the only crocodile farm – Marineland Melanesia – on a coral cay. If that’s important.

Green Island – Now What?

now, around 300,000 tourists visit Green Island each year, continuing to exploit its resources, albeit more sustainably. In theory, anyway – imagine the impact of so many on the beaches, coral reefs, walks and wildlife.

But the multi-layered management model would have changed all this for the better, right? Well … look at what’s changed in the last 20 years – do the changes contribute to island sustainability? Or are they just cosmetic? You decide!!

20 years ago, you got a Green Island cruise or day-trip – now it’s a Green Island ‘Eco-Adventure’, although weirdly, most activities haven’t changed … and neither has the snorkelling equipment!!! How jealous would my friends have been in the early 90’s to hear about my Eco-Adventure!!

20 years ago, visitors could cross the island on a dirt track through the centre, and the only restricted areas were the resort grounds, and crocodile farm (as if you needed to be told that!!). Now, a boardwalk follows the beach, leaving the centre free from human activity. Oddly, the ‘walk’ from one side to the other is now marketed as a ‘self-guided tour’!

20 years ago, Emerald doves wandered the forest floor – but now, after a successful rat eradication program, large numbers of Buff-banded Rail aggressively hunt and gather from the main food court – and appear to be the only ground-based fauna. Like house-guests from hell, they bathe (and defecate) in the pool, snatch food from unwitting tourists, and hog the best sunbathing spots. In a strange zoological reversal, tourists unable to fend them off are invited to eat in a wire mesh enclosure (aka ‘cage’) the birds can’t enter …  The attractively marked Buff-banded Rail normally shuns human contact, so getting a close look at one isn’t that easy. But now? I don’t care if I never see another one …

20 years ago you were left to your own devices upon arrival on the island – now, there are warnings for the aged. Apparently a high risk group, tourists aged 50+ (aka ‘old’) are encouraged to alert the lifeguard when entering the water in case the exertion is too much. Although the only danger I faced was from Pilchard himself when I offered to tell the lifeguard that he was about to go snorkelling.

Green Island’s Natural Attractions

But these are minor points in the context of the magnificent beauty of the natural attractions. Broad white beaches. Water so clear and blue you could spot a hat through it. Superb corals, giant clams and fish. Lush, green rainforest. Ample birdwatching opportunities. Turtle spotting. And the ultimate? Whale watching!!

Sitting on a shady beach after the trauma of keeping our reef fish wraps and chips** from the hovering anxiety of a brace of Buff-banded Rail, we watched a pod of whates frolicking for a good 30 minutes before they moved out of sight. Then, another pod was spotted from the return ferry. Happily not required for scientific testing that day, the whales were free to cavort for the Aussie, American, French and Japanese photographers lucky enough – and thrilled – to capture them on film.

A stunning end to a fabulous day, our return to Green Island had certainly picked up from its inauspicious beginning.

SO … will we return? Hell, yes! After all, we’ve got Pilchard’s hat to look for …

* Yobbo = Aussie term of endearment for people (usually blokes) who indulge in ‘exuberant’ behaviour, usually taking the format of alcohol-fuelled best mate bonding sessions involving various combinations of camping, fishing, barbecues, hunting and cruising.

** Chips = fries

The post Return to Green Island – via Cairns, Far North Queensland appeared first on Australia by Red Nomad OZ.



 

Lord Howe Island visitors seeking inertia are likely to be disappointed. Getting from A to B usually involves walking or cycling – and the best island activities are high-energy, hands-on and outdoors based. So after two days of reconnaissance on foot, we extended our range with bicycles – and that’s how I inadvertently became a triathlete!



  

Swimming at Old Settlement Beach, Lord Howe Island







Old Settlement Beach from Malabar Hill, Lord Howe Island



In another desperate act of triathletic rebellion, we replaced running with hiking. Which made this the most challenging leg so far, given a) the bakery lunch taken during the second cycling leg, b) wet swimmers and c) inappropriate sandals. Malabar Hill’s steep climb – from 0 to 209 metres above sea level – rewards triathletes (and regular climbers) who reach the narrow ridge without contracting vertigo with a 360° view taking in Old Settlement, the Admiralty Islands, Ned’s Beach and – best of all – the wondrous Ball’s Pyramid in the distance! And while looking down all 209 metres of sheer cliff to a turtle swimming in the sea below made me feel queasy, the Red-tailed Tropicbirds flying backwards (literally!) and forwards at eye level more than made up for it.

Looking South from Malabar Hill

For the record, here are my results:

Lord Howe Island Triathlon statistics:

She’ll be coming down the mountain …



• General handicaps: Planking injuries, twisted ankle, system weakened by flu, spectacular scenery, bakery temptation
• Cycling legs: ~6km total over 3 legs. Handicaps: 28 years between cycles
• Swimming leg: 20m (no, that’s not a misprint. ‘Swim’ is a euphemism for ‘dip and splash about’)
• Hiking leg: 1.4 km return, from 0-209 metres above sea level. Handicaps: Recent lunch, inappropriate sandals, wet clothing
• Time taken: All day!!
• Ranking: 2nd (of two, although the other participant didn’t have as many of the general handicaps!)





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