Author Archives: Steve Walker

About Steve Walker

Once a tech in-house PR type, now professional photo/videographer and recreational drone pilot. Violinist. Flautist. Occasional conductor. Oenophile.

Casso Wary

Monday 30 September 2024 – Our schedule today included an all-day tour. Like these things so often do, this one required a somewhat early start, as we had, officially, an 0810 pickup at the hotel reception which (you of course remember, because you were paying attention) is a non-trivial walk away. Our shopping expedition of the day before had netted some breakfasty-type stuff as well as the Twinings Finest Earl Grey, so we ate in our room before heading for the hotel reception

so that we could wait an extra 10 minutes because the pick-up was late.  However, some good came of the wait; we chatted to the lass at reception, who confirmed a possible future holiday travel destination as being a sound choice. We will start saving up just as soon as we get home.

Our destination was the Daintree Rainforest, part of the largest contiguous area of tropical rainforest in Australia, the Wet Tropics of Queensland. The region, along with a select number of other rainforest areas on the Australian east coast, collectively form some of the oldest extant rainforest communities in the world at around 180 million years old.

Our guide, a jovial and, as it turned out, very knowledgeable chap called AJ,

picked us up in his bus, which seemed to be almost devoid of any suspension mechanism,

where we joined a dozen and a half other people on the journey further North! up the coast.  I think all the others had come from Cairns, because it wasn’t long before we stopped for a comfort break at what I think is the most colourful set of toilets I’ve ever seen.

We learned a couple of things there: the first was the disturbing extent of flooding that followed the epic storm that hit eastern Australia in December 2023, when the full extent of that 2m flood indicator was a relevant measure; the second was

the words for Ladies and Gentlemen in the aboriginal language of the area.

After the loo break, we carried on northwards, crossing the Daintree River via a cable ferry.

We passed the Mount Alexandra Lookout, normally a part of this tour, but noted as “temporarily unavailable”.  It became clear, from extensive roadworks along our way, that this was another consequence of the storms of last December, a little more of which later. Having passed it, our next stop was at the Jindalba boardwalk, where we hoped to see a specimen of wildlife that Jane was particularly eager to see, but which is notoriously elusive – a Cassowary. AJ had said, in his various spiels, that it would be possible we might see one, and that one sign that one of these beasts was in the neighbourhood would be fresh scat. Well,

there was a seemingly fresh pile of cassowary shit there, containing some of the “seeds” that this bird eats. Let me give you some idea of scale, here:

those “seeds” are the size of plums, and the cassowary will have gobbled them up whole. Indeed, there is a particular tree, called the cassowary plum, whose fruit (a fetching shade of navy blue)

needs to have passed through a cassowary’s digestive tract to enable it to germinate. Sorry if you’re reading this over a meal.

AJ was eloquent about this and other fruits of the rain forest,

giving us hints about how not to kill ourselves by eating the wrong stuff.

Because the Jindalba boardwalk was severely restricted because of storm damage, we then headed off in the general direction of Cape Tribulation, named thus by Cook (only a Lieutenant at the time, not the Captain) when Endeavour was holed as it hit a reef. En route, there’s another boardwalk, the Madja boardwalk, where we were able to explore the hinterland where rainforest and mangrove swamp meet. AJ pointed out various other interesting plants, such as this vine

which indigenous people used as fishhooks. Given that disentangling oneself from an accidental encounter with this vine takes a lot of time and careful unpicking, it is not surprising that it’s called the “wait-a-while” vine.

We saw other things at Madja that were new to us: this palm tree;

and mangrove “snorkels” of an unfamiliar kind, much stubbier and blunter than we’d ever seen before;

apparently there are some three dozen varieties of mangrove in the Daintree area. Naming of them, like the wait-a-while vine, is a reasonably simple affair; for example, here is a picture of the fruit of the cannonball mangrove.

Unsurprisingly, there were several varieties of crab fossicking about in the mud

as well as angler fish in the creeks (these are the ones that squirt water at insects to dislodge them from low branches)

and weaver ants

whose bum tastes, allegedly, of citrus. AJ told us that you “pick, lick and flick”; pick them up, lick their bottoms and then flick them away from you. Apparently if you try to brush them off, they will bite, which is uncomfortable. The citrus taste is, he said, ascorbic acid, better known as Vitamin C, mistakenly thought by many as being a cure for the common cold.

The rainforest was very atmospheric, with some very photogenic corners.

Our next stop was the beach at Cape Tribulation, which is, frankly,

just this beach, you know, although it does have an interesting variety of mangroves growing there.

It was on the walk back from the lookout path that things became more interesting.  Firstly, the main lookout had been completely destroyed by the storm;

in front of us should have been a sizeable platform, but instead there was a massive landslip and a chap who  was doing some surveying about repairing the damage. Secondly, there was a demonstration of the dark side of Mother Nature; give this video 30 seconds if you’re interested.

I was rather taken by this image of the goanna which was part of this scenario.

We dashed towards the final item on the tour’s itinerary via the Daintree Ice Cream Company, who offered us a tasting of four of their exotic fruit flavours, including black sapote and wattleseed. I can report that these taste nice, but are not particularly spectacular. The reason for the rush was that we had to meet a cruise ferry. Not a big one, you understand,

but nonetheless one that could give us a chance to see some of the flora and fauna in and around the Daintree river; our guide on the boat was a knowledgeable chap called Mick. Sadly, the time of day, and, indeed, the time of year, were not the best for wildlife spotting (too warm in both cases), but Mick gave a good educational talk about the varieties of mangrove we were looking at and the root systems they depended on; and also was able to show us some of the damage that that storm had done, in entirely demolishing what were once beaches along the river.

We did, finally, catch sight of the main objective of the river trip – an estuarine crocodile (commonly called a saltwater crocodile), actually the alpha male of this stretch of river,

and a juvenile who might one day take over as such, and seemed to be smiling at the prospect.

We also saw a kingfisher, one of my favourite bird species; this one was an Azure Kingfisher.

The wildlife might have been largely absent, but the general view was pleasant

belying the very clear destruction that must have happened during That Storm. At the top of the walkway off the boat, we got a further idea of how high the floods ran.

At the “Cruise Terminal”

we had a cup of tea and a chuckle at the local entertainment on offer.

Also there is the second prize in the “best painted loo” competition.

AJ dropped us off at our hotel and, before we allowed the evening to descend into an abyss of drinks and snacks, we went to its beach,

which is nice enough, but just this beach, you know?  On the way down there’s a warning

and on the way back a gentle suggestion.

Our final wildlife encounter of the day was a katydid by the light switch for our cabin.

So we never got to see a cassowary; any that were there were obviously reluctant to show themselves. Maybe we’ll get another opportunity; we certainly hope so.

The morrow has another all-day tour, which looks to have a bit more culture and a bit less wildlife in it. I expect we’ll learn a bit more about the region and I’ll share it with you when I can.

 

 

Port Douglas

Sunday 29 September 2024 – With nothing formal on the itinerary for today, our plan was to explore Port Douglas, a town about 16km further North! up the coast – apart from anything else, we were down to our last half dozen Earl Grey tea bags. Before we went out, though, there was the small matter of breakfast, which would be served in the main lodge. Our accommodation was among the select group of cabins that were furthest away from the lodge,

so this entailed a 300-metre walk through the rainforest. It’s not a level walk, though, oh dear me no.

I realise that in absolute terms, the ascent is not daunting; it’s just that, somehow, it’s not particularly welcome as a pre-breakfast workout. We had our first wildlife encounter of the day en route, with a many-striped skink which could give Phoebe Waller-Bridge some useful lessons in side-eye.

Our second wildlife encounter was to see a bird taking a bath; I suspect that the bath was specifically set up so that punters like us could watch from the restaurant.

Later in the morning we headed towards Port Douglas, which is a mere 20-minute drive away. The scenery really makes it clear that one is in the tropics

and we passed a crop that we think is sugar cane,

although it looks different from the sugar cane we saw in Madagascar earlier this year.

Port Douglas is a compact town, with all of the major commercial activity concentrated in a couple of streets

and an architectural vernacular – corrugated iron roofs on a steel frame – speaks of the need to withstand cyclones (as did the signpost en route to the town pointing to a cyclone shelter).

There are many bars and restaurants

and, of course, the obligatory aboriginal art outlet.

On the town beach, there’s a wharf called Sugar Wharf,

which supports the probability that the crop we saw earlier was sugar cane. Its use for loading sugar cane ceased in 1957 and it’s now an entertainment venue.

We stopped in the town for a coffee at the Grant Street Kitchen, which is a bakery

proudly advertised around the town as “award-winning”. Jane said that her almond croissant was the best she’d had so far on this trip, and the place was very popular, with a persistent queue out of the door,

and an interesting selection of customers,

so the claim would appear to have merit. They clearly do a good line in pies, which appeared to be the meal du jour among people sitting outside.

Port Douglas is world famous in North Queensland for its market – every Wednesday and Sunday. It being a Sunday, we pottered over (it being very humid and hot enough, at 29°C, to put anything more energetic than pottering out of the question) to take a look. It’s obviously a flourishing concern.

Immediately neighbouring the market is a delightful little church, St. Mary’s by the Sea,

and behind the church, a tree which is remarkably laden with epiphytes.

We did our necessary shopping and headed back to Thala Beach. In the grounds, we stopped to examine something that had been pointed out to us on yesterday’s stargazing expedition.

This is not a small heap; let me show you the scale of it.

Believe it or not, this has been made by one pair of birds, orange-footed scrub fowls.

The male starts the mound in an attempt to woo a passing female by showing off his nest-building skills; the pair then continue building and managing the heap each breeding season. If all goes according to plan, she lays eggs in the heap, which is big enough to foster internal warmth from rotting down and thus incubate the eggs. Once they’ve hatched, the chicks then dig their way out. This strikes me as being like something out of the Monty Python Four Yorkshiremen sketch: “We were evicted from our hole in the road. We had to make do with a pile of rotting leaves.”

The rest of the day passed in blissful idleness; we have two days of relentless tourism coming up and one has to build up one’s reserves, after all. Stay tuned to find out exactly what these two days of tourism actually entail.

Farewell, Brisbane; heading North! to Port Douglas

Saturday 28 September 2024 – The last couple of days haven’t been photo-worthy, because we’ve spent them talking to friends, rather than seeing new sights.  Yesterday was our final day with Phil, Christine, Bella and Lilli the Cavoodle; the day before was our chance to catch up with Dell and Richard, who have a delightful place on a 5-acre patch in Anstead, some 20-odd kilometres west-sou-west of Brisbane.  Richard and Jane were colleagues in the early years of this, our third millennium, and, again, it was a pleasure to discover that they lived near enough to make it relatively easy to meet up. Meet up we did; they treated us to a lunch which featured excellent food but, sadly, the only occurrence of indifferent service we’ve encountered in all of our travels across Australia. Whatever her back story was, the lass who served us gave out the strong vibe that she was there under protest. It didn’t, however, spoil the meal; and it was a real pleasure to catch up with Dell and Richard, see their splendid house and be impressed by the work that Richard puts in on knocking the area into shape and keeping it that way; an excellent day out.

Our plans meant that we now, and somewhat sadly, had to leave Brisbane and head up to Cairns.  Before I close the file marked “Brisbane”, though, there is one more set of photos to show and discuss, stemming from a visit we made a couple of days ago to the lookout on Mount Coot-Tha, a 220m hill which is just 8km west of central Brisbane and therefore offers a great view over the city.

(The smoke on the right of the picture above was from a fire at an abandoned warehouse; no-one hurt, apparently, except possibly the insurance company.)

Phil and I have been to Mount Coot-Tha every time I’ve visited him (this is the third occasion); on the previous visit, in 2001, I had with me my first digital camera (for the record, a Canon Digital Ixus) and I took a photo of the view. Not a brilliant one, as it turns out, but one can get enough out of it to compare how it was then

to how it is now.

There are a couple of building identifiably the same in each.

Quite some change, eh?

To supplement these, I had also got aerial shots of the city from the plane: 2001

and 2024.

The two photos were taken on different sides of the sharp bend in the river, but again show how much development has happened over the last quarter of a century.

Enough, already, of Brisbane, then: time to move on. For the second time in a row, Virgin Australia failed to bugger us about and we had an uneventful flight to Cairns, where Avis had a nice Toyota Camry (Hybrid, naturally, dahling) waiting for us. We had a leisurely one-hour drive to the Thala Beach Nature Reserve, past beautiful turquoise seas

and arrived there with time to have some of Twinings Finest  Earl Grey and relax before dinner. Thala Beach looks like a fine place; one approaches through a coconut palm plantation

and I can vouch for the quality of the bar

and the restaurant, which provided a great meal, a hint of some of the wildlife that we hope we’ll be able to see – and, of course, photograph –

(Google lens says these are cormorants. It’s wrong, I’m sure; I hope we’ll find out the truth in due course – we suspect they may be Helmeted Friarbirds) and some nice colours as the sun went down.

After dark, we participated in a stargazing session led by a lady whose great enthusiasm and obvious grasp of the subject didn’t quite offset her very irritating delivery style. I got my first decent view of Saturn through her 10″ telescope, along with a view of a globular cluster. I tried for photos, but I just got a picture of these stars, you know? On the way back to our cabin, we saw a cane toad,

and we’ll have a chat with reception about reporting it, since it’s such an invasive and dangerous creature.

Tomorrow offers us a day at leisure, and plan A is to visit Port Douglas. Apart from anything else, supplies of Earl Grey are running low, but I suspect that we’ll probably, or even obviously, go for a walk there. Tune in later to find out.