Value added adventure
July 8, 2005Machans Beach, Qld, Australia
8:07pm.
I have fallen into a bit of a routine. Writing every other day, recapping both days the night of the second. Maybe because the down days, the days we just go to a local beach and try not to spend money, are lacking in anecdotal value. Maybe because I am wary of describing another day of sunshine and sand and surf. Wary because I am feeling a little guilty of the bohemian life I have chosen. Guilty because I am find difficulty locating anecdotal value from it.
That circular paragraph was brought to you by Confused and Anxious, a future novel by Jason Kyle Graham Esq. Your advance copy will be mailed to you upon your payment. Please send cheque or money order to Nowhere, P.O. Box Who the hell knows.
There was some value to yesterday’s jaunt to Palm Cove. Hud is slowly conquering his fear of the ocean. Prior to yesterday, if the approaching water washed over his mosquito bitten toes he would run screaming like a horror movie prom queen. Yesterday, with some initial prodding, he eventually realized that rolling about it in the waves can be much more entertaining than throwing sand at your parents. So he rolled and fell and coughed up saltwater, and panicked just a little and rolled and fell again.
I spent a good deal of time jumping waves and body surfing as well. Lucky me, my doughy body works quite well as a mock surfboard. In fact, little Aussie kids with blonde curly hair and Billabong body suits kept jumping on my back screeching kowabunga dude. The things I put up with.
Dinner yesterday was Green Thai Chicken and rice from a package. And I swear when Steph added the paste to the oil in the pan I thought I was going to pass out. It smelled like cooked ass. All three ceiling fans were spinning at their highest levels to rid the downstairs of the fetid redolence. Even Hud scrunched up his knows and ran upstairs to his playroom. We were all ready to pack it up and walk to the restaurant until I clothes pinned my nose and braved a piece of the chicken. Hmph. Not bad. Actually quite good. And spicy. So we ate it, even Hud. Gulping water after every bite. Afterwards we sat there, hands resting on our stomachs, singing our favourite man in black song.
You know the one.
“I went through a burning ring of fire…”
Needless to say, none of us were looking forward to the next verse as it were.
So today. Today was adventure day. Or exploration day is more appropriate. We went back to the Atherton Tablelands to finish the tour we started on Wednesday. After the magic of the Paronella Park (all the billboards on the way to the park read: The Dream Continues….It was awesome cheese), we ran out of time, so today we finished what we started.
We started off at Lake Barraine, a crater made lake about 45 minutes southwest of Cairns. The drive was another hairy curvy road right up the side of a mountain. The views were spectacular, but some of the edges of the roads cuddled right up to a severe drop off. Steph held her breath for the 18kms of curves. I focused intensely on the road. Hud played with his poo nuts.
So the lake was nice and all, but to us Canadians, it was just a lake. So we ate Devonshire Teas and relished in the occasional heat of the sun. I told Steph that I have no fear of growing old with her, because sometimes on this trip, I know exactly what it will be like. We did mosy down to the edge of the lake and there was a place to swim. I relieved myself of all my extra clothes and jumped in. It was cold, but manageable so I gathered Hud up and brought him in as well. He was not as fond as the chilly water so I quickly put him back on land to continue feeding the ducks. Steph could not let me have any adventure leg up (yes after the dangerous Devonshire Tea, swimming was the adventure) so she jumped in for a quick dip as well. One thing about crater made lakes is they are so clear and clean. It was like swimming in a glass of lemonade.
Next stop was another lake, Lake Eechem, just down the road. This one was smaller, a little bit warmer and not a café to be found. There was a simple swim platform with water deep enough to dive into. It was a nice experience. And of course to add to the experience, what’s that swarming down the hill onto the platform? Yep. A tour busload of Asians. Asian teenage girls at that. There were 10 of them and all asked Hud to be in a picture with them. Steph seriously contemplated charging them each a dollar. Their next squeal of excitement was when I jumped back into the water. They all ran to the edge and began taking pictures of me.
Now this is a future scene I wish I could watch. A teenage Asian girl going through her digital slide show for her parents and their friends, and her explaining as my pink fleshy body splashes all over their 90 inch high definition television…
“And here is when the fat round eye jumped in the freezing cold water, bah ha ha ha…his penis must be in his throat right now…”
Enter Asian titter here.
Next stop, The Curtain Fig Tree. What? Huh? He quit his job and life for what? A tree? Actually this was interesting, if not a tad bizarre. Deep in the Tablelands rainforest sits a one thousand year old tree. Over the years the tree and its roots have transformed into what can only be described as a curtain.
Originally, a tree rooted in another and eventually knocked it over onto another tree. All the roots sought the ground and created a wall of roots and eventually the original tree died, leaving a curtain of roots attached to another 70 foot tree. Oh yeah, it has figs. Hence the Curtain Fig Tree.
Don’t tell me I don’t know how to party.
Last stop today was the Milaa Milaa Falls. And this was nice and simple. 40 foot waterfalls with a pool at the bottom you could swim in.
Perfect. This is what I want to see and do. And I did. And holy fucking shit was it cold. It was about a 100 metre swim to the actual falls and about half way I started talking to myself. “I don’t think I can do this; This is way too cold; I can’t feel my legs” But, as I was saying all this, I was pretty much there, so I crawled out and actually got behind the falls, something I never done in my life before.
But then I had never seen a Curtain Fig Tree or drank Devonshire Tea either.
Love to all,
J.
July 6, 2006
Machans Beach, Qld, Australia
7:36pm.
Let the insomnia begin!
I just choked down pretty much a whole sausage and onion pizza after a very busy day exploring Queensland, so I expect I shall drift off fine, only to awake with a fire in my esophagus and love in my heart.
Yesterday was a wash, with nary an anecdote to be found. We went to Cairns city, found a great internet/travel agent, inquired about a Fraser Island tour and booked the Reef trip for this coming Sunday. We popped our head into the one and only mall, bought Hud some new science toys, including magnets and a robot claw. We contemplated the food court for about seven seconds before we gave each other the look. We went home and napped until dinner. Dinner was a vegetable pasta dish with chicken. As opposed to chicken pasta with vegetables. Hud watched a movie in bed; we watched a tiny bit of television before retiring to our books. It was good banal pleasure. Yes I am aware there is an adult film title imbedded in that last sentence.
Today was adventure day! We are alternating our days instead of cramming all the “fun” in at the beginning and suddenly looking down to see the whites of our pockets hanging out. Our onerous goal for today was to travel to four separate outdoor tourist type areas. Touristy due to their natural beauty.
We left at 8:15am, lunch and snack bag packed, and drove one hour to our first destination, the Babinda boulders. This little nook was special because of the massive boulders in the middle of a run off that were smoothed down from the millenniums of rapid water washing over them.
The boulders were big, dinosaur big, and smooth, porn star cookie smooth, and I just love watching big ass rapids scream down a gorge. So that kilometere walk took about an hour, and luckily near the entrance to the path was a spot to go swimming. And even luckier, after I jumped in the cool, clear water, Hud was eager to come in with me. Luckier still, Steph decided what the heck, I will come in too!
So we all swam at the Babinda boulder watering hole. There was another couple there, young, pert, good skin, and great wearehereforthesamereason smiles. They loved that Hud was screaming for fun, not annoyed by it like others would be. I love meeting people like that.
A quick dry off and towel wrap and we were back in the car. We had a schedule to keep as per Steph’s day timer, so no time for lollygagging. Next stop Josephine Falls; another three tiered set of falls tucked in the wet rainforest. I had also read somewhere there was a swimming hole at the base of the falls called the “Golden Hole”. Oh my, there is another probable adult film title. Seems to be a theme to this post. We went to all three tiers, and at the final, the base of the falls, I searched for a spot to go in. It was too dangerous. It had been raining off and on for about six weeks so the water level was high and fast. What did happen was the sky cleared for about ten minutes, and shined split rays of sunshine down the centre of the falls. Just for us. It was like magic. I tells ya. Something good is going to happen.
Hud got to play in the mini rapids and even fell in the water and scraped his knee.
Usually major drama would follow, but we convinced him that he was a water rock climber and everyone would be really impressed. He sucked in his lip and majored on.
We ate lunch in the car cause our next stop was quite far and we were unsure of its exact location. We found it. Oh goodie. Paronella Park. The parking lot was full of tour buses. And it was a little costly. But I let Steph make the call, no input. Hud had fallen asleep so he never would have known we were even there. Well, Steph said lets do it and I cringed. I am such a sour puss sometimes. We entered and the first thing they made us do was put a bright green fluorescent sticker on our shirts. The next thing they did was direct us to the white board to see when the next guided tour was happening. Uh no thanks old bitty, us self drive rebels won’t be suckered into your mass tour group hysteria. We will travel through your little park by ourselves. Feh,
Paronella Park is the former grounds of a Spanish man who came to Australia in 1913, became rich I am sure by exploiting the aborigines and jumping all over the lucrative sugar cane market. He built a castle right at the base of a fifty-foot waterfall. He surrounded the castle with other buildings and tennis courts and fountains, all in the Spanish theme. He died in 1948 and the Park lived on through his kids until they sold it to its present owners in 1992. There were fires and floods over the years leaving the grounds and castle in various states of disarray. It still looked a little shabby to me. But I am a cantankerous dork sometimes.
So, no tours for us, until we stumbled into one with one other couple. A fast talking teenager with a pension for small swear words led us through the park. He said damn, hell and I think shit once and I thought that odd for someone to say in front of two elderly folks and one toddler. Whatever. He gave us some free bookmarks.
Wait a second. I left out the coolest part. At the front desk they gave Hud a bag of fish food. At the base of the falls, at the bottom of rock stairs that descended right into water were fish. Lots of fish and eels. Fish and eels that would almost leap into your palm to get the food. You could imagine how thrilled Hud was at all this. I was almost giddy with excitement. Hud was truly bursting.
So, our mini tour ended. We saw a cluster of bats in a tunnel Spanish dude made.
He called it the tunnel of love. It was wide enough to let two people walk down holding hands. Smarmy, but still romantic. After the tunnel we found another feedhole along the stream. This time it was for turtles, about forty of them, and if they didn’t get the food, the fish did. It was a constant frenzy and it was a total blast for all the almost three year olds in the group.
So we were done. Or so I thought. The aborigine dance started in 10 minutes. So we waited, and were led, along with the Asians and the blue hairs, to an amphitheatre of sand. They then performed a number of dances that were interesting enough, the only problem being they smelled like a room full old onions, like a submarine sandwich maker at closing time, like a full on fat Parisian woman’s armpit. It was body odour with capital BO. It was almost unbearable. And then it was over.
We only shoved Hud to get his picture taken with him, and luckily, thankfully, he did not say out loud “what stinks??”
We drove home in relative silence. I secretly liked the Park, but could not let Steph know it. It started to rain on the way home. It was hot and wet.
Hot and wet. I have seen that movie. And all its 45 sequels.
Number 18 was the best.
Love to all,
J.
posted by Jason @ 7:49 PM
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