North Queensland: Look but don’t touch.

After flying San Jose, California to Los Angels, I had a 3-hour layover before my trans-pacific flight to Sydney and a five-hour layover there. So I was squirming in my seat that last three-hour flight from Sydney north to Cairns, Australia.

 

 

 

Upon decent, we doubled back and came in from the north, providing a fly-by of the Daintree Rainforest where I’d be exploring via campervan in just a couple of days. From the air, it appeared wild, with no sign of humanity.

There were no SIM card venders in the tiny Cairns airport, so I wasn’t able to get my iPhone running and request an Uber. Instead, I took a shuttle into town and sat beside the driver observing how traffic flows driving on the left side of the road and watching shift with the stick in the left hand while seated at the right of the vehicle. I’d be driving a manual shift the very next day, so I wanted to familiarize myself.

The shuttle dropped me at a hotel near my Airbnb. I was glad to see that my time-consuming diligence in choosing a room had paid off with a sweet room and welcoming hostess. After orienting, I set out searching for an Australian SIM card. I walked 20 minutes to the central business district only to find everything closed at 6 pm! Come to find, that’s standard here. Australians have better things to do than work all the time. Sort of shocking coming from the land of 24-hour consumption and ‘work till you drop’ attitude.

Even after dark, the air was hot and sticky. I was a little on edge during the walk back as there was hardly anyone in sight. I passed a group of Aboriginal men who said ‘Hello’ and welcomed me to chat, but these streets are foreign to me, so I warmly greeted them back but kept walking.

I found a completely empty Vietnamese restaurant and ate a veggie Pho soup on the veranda watching the occasional Aboriginal or two shuffle by. ‘It must be their neighborhood’ I thought to myself.

I’ve not been around Aboriginal people before. They have a strong presence. Yet against the shops and eateries, they appeared lost, like spirits floating by. I know a bit about what happened to Aboriginal people when anglos populated this continent. I have huge respect for all native cultures, so instantly felt the discord of being another anglo here without permission.

 

 

 

The next morning I explored the city’s waterfront esplanade and public swimming lagoon before heading to the mall for an Australian SIM card. With my iPhone functioning, I headed back to my room, packed up and sent for an Uber to take me to the location of the camper van I rented through Airbnb.

After picking up the keys and getting familiar with the vehicle, it was too late in the day for a long drive. I decided to visit the mountain town of Kuranda and Barron waterfalls, without considering that the steep and twisty road into the mountains was probably a bad choice for learning to drive on the opposite side of the road.

 

 

A bit like rubbing your belly and patting your head, I really had to concentrate on driving. I kept repeating “left side” like a mantra.

 

 

By the end of the week, I had it down, though I can still absentmindedly walk to the wrong side of the car to enter.

I parked the van back in Cairns that night where the owners said I could camp “with wifi, washer/dryer, and electricity,” but the van owner didn’t actually live there and the residents weren’t so happy to have me. It felt sketchy.

A group of young men smoked cigarettes just outside the van until 3 am At around 4 a.m. a couple of drunk Aboriginal men showed up snooping around with flashlights. They started screaming at each other right next to me and I was praying they wouldn’t attempt to enter the vehicle. Eventually, they went away and I got out of there at first light.

I went to the public lagoon for a swim and shower before driving north. Many coastal towns in North Queensland have public lagoons for safe swimming because saltwater crocodiles (called Salties) grow up to 10-15 ft long and would be happy to have us for dinner. Between them and deadly jellyfish (called stingers), it’s life-threatening to swim in the ocean. Netted enclosures allow people to dip in the ocean, but I didn’t have any interest in trying them out. Stinger nets will screen out jellyfish, but crocodiles have still been known to get inside the nets. I pictured a crocodile peering over the edge of a net thinking “This is where they keep all the food.”

 

 

Wandering free and following my intuition is what I love to do the most, so my day quickly turned around. I pulled into Trinity Beach for a breakfast smoothie and walk along the shore, then drove a bit further to ritzy Palm Cove.

“Australians are having a darn good lifestyle,” I thought to myself while looking around.

 

 

Public parks and facilities are incredibly well kept in Australia. City grounds workers are everywhere attending to gardening, cleaning and building up public spaces.

I can’t help but think this is the way it should be, and the way it could be in the USA if we weren’t enslaved in a repetitive war machine making rich men richer.

While many in the US just hustle to keep up with the bills, in Australia basic needs are met and people have time for relaxation, pursuing interests and their families. The country values its people, their way of life, and their health, both physical and mental.

Heading north again, I decided to be a real tourist and pulled into ‘Hartley’s Crocodile Adventures.’ I visited crocodiles, koalas, kangaroos, wallabies, snakes, emus, cassowaries and more.

There are more poisonous creatures in this country (including the world’s most deadly snake) than any other on earth, so this stop actually served to educate me in safety, prevention and what to do if attacked or bitten.

A wallaby fell in love with me and people called me a “wallaby whisperer.” I do have a special way with animals, but I’m pretty sure this wallaby liked the smell of my sunscreen.

At the end of the day I did some grocery shopping in Port Douglas, then headed up Mount Malloy to a free rest stop campground in the tablelands.

I timed it perfectly and arrived at dusk to find a quiet spot with plenty of other campers around. I felt safe and had a great sleep. Yay!

In the morning I cruised back down to Port Douglas in search of espresso and some wifi so I could investigate camping options in the Daintree Rainforest. I called the Queensland Parks and Wildlife Service to book a camp spot and was amused by how many terms of endearment the agent called me.

I bet Australians don’t have near the amount of phone-rage we do in the States. How rude can you be to someone who calls you Sweetheart, Love, and Doll?

 

 

I pulled out of Port Douglas at noon and arrived at Mossman gorge at 2 pm for a hike in the rainforest. Unfortunately, I had to keep it to a brief because I still had to cross the Daintree river ferry and drive to my campground. I wasn’t sure how long that would take or what that would entail.

 

 

 

The river ferry was actually a breeze and I was quickly transported to the steamy, swampy world of the oldest rainforest on earth. At 180 million years old (10’s of millions older than the Amazon), Daintree contains ancient plant lineages found nowhere else on earth.

 

 

Driving through the dense jungle toward Noah Beach Campground, I didn’t see much in the way of facilities, shops nor eateries. A few moldy signs announced businesses that I assumed no longer existed. I later realized that the rain can be so relentless here, signs literally decompose. The average rainfall is 79 inches per year, with some areas recording up to 345 inches.

My camp spot at Noah Beach was a basic dirt parking space in the trees at the edge of a desolate, wind-swept beach. I enjoyed the quiet solitude of nature as the sunset, but I didn’t figure there was enough there to keep me for the second night I’d paid for.

The next day I explored a few boardwalk trails (“tracks” in Australia) through jungles and mangroves, then went searching for the trailhead of a freshwater swimming hole (crocodile free) that a Dutch couple told me about. Driving up Cape Tribulation, the road turned to earth. I promised the van owners that I’d stay on the paved (“sealed”) road, so I wasn’t comfortable going too far and turned around without finding the swimming hole.

 

 

Getting out of the van at Myall Beach, I was greeted by a man stepping out of his RV. He’d been traveling Australia for five years and was proud of the thick layer of red dust on his dashboard. “Cape Trib” (Aussies shorten everything) marked his complete circumference of the continent.

Tone (He says that’s short for Tony) and I chatted while exploring the beach. He knew of the swimming hole I’d been searching for and offered to take me. When we arrived there was a 10-foot python in it, so no one was swimming. The snake didn’t move and I took a quick dip off to the side.

Tone told me about a nice campground back south of the river in Daintree Village. I didn’t want to stay at Noah Beach anyhow, so we caravanned south through the jungle, back over the ferry, and upriver to Daintree Village, a tiny town with big character. We walked around the village as I marveled at the beauty in quiet envy of its inhabitants.

Leaning on the railing of a river dock, Tone advised me to step away from the water. People disappear around here into a murky underworld of monster reptiles. Reality check: I won’t be moving to North Queensland. Crocodiles are Jerks.

Queensland is a drop-dead gorgeous and beautiful place to look at, but a bit of a tease – Look but don’t touch! I mean, what good is a tropical beach if you can’t swim in the ocean?

 

 

Tone invited me out for dinner that night. Maybe it tasted so good because I’d been subsisting on fruit smoothies, chips and hummus thus far, but the evening felt magical in a twilight zone sort of way.

 

 

The next morning I woke early as usual and started driving south in a torrential downpour. I went back to my mocha/wifi spot in Port Douglas to get a few things taken care of before calling Tone. He was in Port Douglas too, so we met up. He suggested window shopping in the downtown area. This didn’t appeal to me and I told him so, but he didn’t want to walk up the nearby hill for a view, so I tried to be accommodating and went window shopping.

But I didn’t want to be there and I quickly became unsettled and antsy. So much harm to the environment and suffering of the poor is caused by the consumptive behavior of developed countries. It’s heartbreaking and so unnecessary. I’ve been traveling and carrying all I need in a pack for a year straight now. Why would I want to be surrounded by people spending copious amounts of money on useless stuff they don’t need?

“This is not how I want to spend my time in Australia.” I thought. It wasn’t worth it to me, so I just walked away and headed for that hill and overlook. Tone decided to come after all.

 

 

As we walked back down the hill I was still in a funk and felt a little lost and confused. I’ve been traveling alone and at a fast pace for a long time. It was throwing me off to navigate traveling with another person. I lay down in a park to ground myself on the earth. Tone came and comforted me, then we said goodbye and went our separate ways (or so I thought).

Back in the van, I headed south for a campground I’d seen in Palm Cove, but I ran into Tone at a roadside pull-out (bay), who told me about a free camp spot nearby. I wouldn’t have felt safe at that location without him nearby. I was glad we were able to end that day on a better note.

I woke early and drove to Palm Cove to spent the day writing and preparing to transition out of the van the following day. Tone arrived later at that same campground and we remain friends to this day.

I dropped the van back at that creepy house in Cairns the next morning. Then I took an Uber to the airport and picked up a transfer car. Car rental companies often use drivers to reposition their cars long distances. Otherwise, they’d have to pay an employee and pay for the gas. So it’s a win-win for both parties.

They don’t give you much time, so you have to be up for serious driving. To drive 1174.9 kilometers (730 miles) from Cairns Airport south to Gladstone Airport, I was given a red SUV for 3 days and 2 nights. The same drive would have been grueling on a bus, and flying wouldn’t offer the opportunity to sightsee along the way, so the transfer car was a perfect option for me. I paid $70 to keep the car an additional night, which was still cheaper than the bus or a flight. Setting Google Maps for Townsville, I hit the road.