Tag Archives: Scenery

Atherton Tablelands – Not Rooful

Thursday 3 October 2024Long Post Alert!!!!

Yesterday, 2nd October, marked two months since we left the UK on this fantastic trip; it also marked the time to travel to our penultimate destination – the Atherton Tablelands. This is an area somewhat to the south of Port Douglas, and we had a drive of some 2½ hours to get there. So we bade goodbye to the coast as we passed a reminder of this once sugar cane dominated area – these rail freight carriages, or “bins” as they were called, used to take the cane to Mossman when there was a working sugar mill there.

Although the railway is defunct, there are still many road signs and other indications which give the impression of a working system.

Just before we got to Mossman, we turned left and headed inland – and uphill. It was difficult to find a place to stop, to admire the views that we were presented with back towards the coast; but we eventually found a layby with only a slightly perilous walk along a twisty road with big trucks barrelling down it, back to a viewpoint.

We stopped for coffee at a village called Mount Molloy, which had a hotel which, by the sound of the loud banter coming out of it, could have starred in Crocodile Dundee, but only if the censor had been feeling lenient that day.  A café on the same side of the road had just turned off its coffee machine, and so we crossed over to the “Ahoy Molloy Coffee Ship”.

It billed itself as a “coffee and whole foods store”,

and, indeed had a variety of things for sale around the back.

We asked the exceedingly hippy barista what the chemical symbol meant on the front, and he told us that it was the caffeine molecule. Rough round the edges, but a cool place, actually.

The landscape changed dramatically as we left the rainforests of the Daintree; trees became much sparser

and the grassy spaces were dotted with a multitude of termite mounds;

the dense forests disappeared.

The agriculture changed, too.

Mango, avocado and banana crops could be seen from the road and the surrounding lands were exploited for farming.

Our planned lunch stop was in the town of Atherton, which has given its name to the surrounding countryside. Its name came from one John Atherton, who settled the area and introduced cows in 1879. Interestingly, the landscape once we’d climbed out of Port Douglas was flat, but once we officially arrived in the Tablelands, where one might have inferred flatness from the name, we saw many more rolling hills. We’d been two months in Australia and never visited a fish and chip shop; given that there was a reasonably well-reviewed one in Atherton, our lunch venue was an easy choice.

The fish and chips were very good; and on the walls were some clues as to perhaps why Australia has a similar occurrence of obesity as the UK.

Jane had, as ever, done her research on Things To See On The Way, and it was her work that decided us on travelling via this slightly longer route to get to our destination; Madam Tomtom in our car would have taken us back down the coast via Cairns – slightly shorter, and, as it turned out, probably a lot less interesting. Jane had spotted something called the Curtain Fig Tree; and since individual trees rarely get their own spot on Google Maps, we decided to take a look. The tree has signposts, its own car park and even its own National Park. We didn’t explore the National Park, but took up on the offer of a car parking spot and followed the signs, which led to a boardwalk

from which one could start to get an idea of the scope of what was on show. Which was astonishing.

The area is a sacred place for the Ngadjon-Jii people and an info board explains how this extraordinary scene developed. A fig seed was deposited by a bird in the crown of a tree. It was a strangler fig seed, so it grew roots down to the ground which also reached out, encircled and eventually strangled the host tree. The host tree (now effectively dead) then toppled, and ended up leaning on a neighbouring tree; the fig continued to send roots earthwards, which developed into the curtain one sees today. We’ve seen it compared to the “Tree of Life” in Avatar – actually more like the tree of death for the original host…

Jane had also spotted a “Platypus Viewing Platform”, which was in the pretty village of Yungaburra.

As we searched for a place to park, Jane spotted that there were Stone Curlews on the green – the female presumably incubating eggs in a ground nest, and the male strutting around nearby.

The male, by the way, was another disciple of the Phoebe Waller-Bridge side-eye school.

There was, indeed, a formal platypus viewing area, but looking out from it revealed only a turtle.

As a platypus viewing exercise, it was a turtle disaster.

It was then but a short journey to our accommodation, the Rose Gums Wilderness Retreat. We were slightly amused, as we drove towards it, that we were traversing farmland, but once we’d arrived and checked in to our (very substantial) cabin,

it was clear that we were in forestland once again. As darkness fell, Jane stood on the balcony with a torch [ in the rain, I may add – Ed ], seeking out wildlife.  She’s like that. Her persistence resulted in the sighting of a snake,

a (reasonably sizeable) common brown tree snake, which came down off our roof and was looking around on the ground outside for a snack of some kind.

Rose Gums doesn’t have a restaurant, and we’d prepared by buying all kinds of good food in Port Douglas on our way here. But we ended up taking gin and peanuts as our evening meal. Well, we’ll be back in the UK soon and having to go back to a healthy diet; we had some gin left over from our Port Douglas stay, and You Can’t Take It With You, You Know.

That was last night. Today was our time here, and we were booked on a full day “Nature Tour”, with a guide all to ourselves.  Accordingly, at 8.30am, along came the very energetic, up-beat and knowledgeable James

to whisk us off to, well, whatever we agreed would be a good place to be whisked off to. We gave him the task of finding us a cassowary and a tree kangaroo, and, to his credit, he didn’t blench, but instead told us he’d see what he could find for us.

First, though, we took photographic advantage of two features of the Rose Gums retreat: a feeding of rainbow lorikeets

and a hide from which one could see musky-rat kangaroos, or possibly musky rat-kangaroos (the sign was ambiguous) which are the smallest and the most primitive of the quokkapadewallaroo family. Rather than hop they scurry very rapidly which made things rather difficult for your photographer…

Interestingly, the hide enabled photography of some other interlopers, too; an emerald dove and a peaceful dove, both very prettily coloured.

It was good to have James on hand, since he could identify these birds. He is an inveterate birder, which enabled some great photos for us – see later.

Our first stop was Petersen Creek, somewhat upstream from where we’d failed to see any platypuses yesterday. Today?

There were at least two of them – interestingly much smaller than the ones we’d seen in Tasmania. On the same stretch of water, we saw a Pacific  Black Duck

and, in the surrounding woods, an arrangement which looks like a very comfy hotel room for a possum.

James then took us to see a nearby colony of spectacled flying foxes

and then walked us along the Peterson Creek walking trail in search of cassowaries and tree roos.  No luck with them, but he did find us some possums: the bum of a sleeping coppery brush-tailed possum

and a very cute pair of green ring-tailed possums,

who looked a bit uncertain as to whether we were good news or not.

After a coffee stop, we headed out to Mount Hypipamee through the typical Atherton Tablelands countryside

to a secret location, unvisited by the public and known only to several hundred birders; this was to be our final chance to see a cassowary.  It involved looking for a specific entry to a track through a type of forest called mabi forest“, mabi, being the indigenous name for the (annoyingly elusive) Lumholz Tree Kangaroo. Before entering it, James sprayed our shoes with anti-leech spray and warned us to be very careful of stinging tree leaves (the upper and somewhat moth-eaten ones in this photo)

brushing against which could prove anything from very painful – with the pain lasting for months – to, erm, fatal. It’s a member of the nettle family, with the neurotoxin sting being delivered by very fine hairs on the leaves and the fruit. Apparently, the fruit is edible once you remove the hairs, but I’m buggered if I’m prepared to try that out. Its aboriginal name is gimpie gimpie which translates as “ouch ouch” i.e. a big ouch. The things I go through to bring you this stuff, eh?

Did we see a cassowary? Did we see a tree kangaroo?

Nope.

Were we disappointed? Absolutely not. Birder Lore had led us to the bower of a bower bird.

As luck would have it, its owner was (a) in the vicinity, and (b) stayed still long enough for even me to get a decent picture of it.

A Golden Bower Bird – a rare species which figures high on the twitchers’ list, apparently. This is a young adult male, yet to achieve his full golden-ness of plumage.

There was much interesting tree bark:

and, to relieve the focus on fauna and flora, James also took us to see the crater lake of the local volcano, which was 50 metres deep and very impressive.

The route to our next stop took us past some more lovely Atherton Tablelands scenery

and into a real old Australian Pub called, quite accurately, The Big Pub, in Malanda,

where we had a very agreeable lunch (and possibly my last-ever taste of Castlemaine XXXX). Afterwards we went to the Malanda Falls National Park,

where we could see saw-shelled terrapins,

Wompoo Fruit-Doves,

and a Boyd’s Forest Dragon,

which was a great source of relief to James, who didn’t want Aaron to be the only one to show us one of these delightful creatures.

By this stage we were approaching the end of our tour, but we had one more moment of delight in wait for us as we headed back to our accommodation: a bird we’d seen as we departed the retreat but had failed to photograph, because it buggered off as soon as we hove into view. We saw it again on our return (or another one of the same type) and for some reason this time it stayed put.

It’s a Pheasant Coucal – this one a young adult male, apparently, and a very handsome chap he is, too. Apparently it’s rare for them to pose like this; James was so excited that he even wanted me to send him this photo, which I have done.

Aaand…that was it for the tour; no cassowary, no tree kangaroo, but we had a great time anyway, with a great guide, lovely scenery and some new wildlife to photograph (oh, and look at too, I suppose). So we bade goodbye to James, and, since the Rose Gums retreat doesn’t actually offer any internet to its cabins (it’s a Retreat, OK?) instead of catching up on Facebook we went for a short walk to find out more about the Rose Gums that give the place its name.  These are not floral versions of wine gums, they are

gum trees. Having hacked down a track, we thought that the above tree was the Giant Rose Gum that we’d read about in the information in our cabin; but we were wrong. This (the one on the left below) was.

It’s immense. You can’t really see that from the photo, even if I include someone for scale

or if I show you what the crown looks like,

but take it from me, it’s a big’un. OK, it’s a gum tree, and, yes, a very old one (estimated to be 600 years old). But why Rose? Jane took a revealing picture at the bole of the tree

which shows that the wood is of a definitely pinkish colour.

To end the day, Jane did her “look for wildlife in the dark and the rain” bit again, and spotted

a bandicoot! We’re honestly not sure what actual species of bandicoot it is, but it is the first of these marsupials we’ve seen (outside a stuffed example in a display case). That we’ve not seen one before is not really a surprise, since they’re strictly nocturnal and we’re not.

We have one more place to visit on this trip, and, if all goes according to plan, we’ll get there tomorrow. It should offer us a final chance to relax before we head back to the gloomy wet and cold of an English autumn, but maybe there will be some decent photos to share. Keep watching these pages to find out, OK?

North! to Al.. Belrose

Saturday 21 September – Today marked a change in pattern of our holiday travels, as we left our hotel room so that we could stay with friends for a few days, first in the Sydney environs, before then moving on to Brisbane.  But I had a photo project first, which meant going out before breakfast so I could catch the morning light. I suppose the photo I was after is something of a cliché, but my first attempt, from yesterday’s wanderings, was less than satisfactory

because the light was all wrong, and if I’m going to perpetrate a cliché, I might as well do it properly.  In the morning light, the scene looks much better to my eyes.

The journey to get to the photo location was pleasant – the temperature was lovely and the sun was shining. Because it was reasonably early, the sun was low and I found myself at one point casting no fewer than three shadows – one behind me from the real sun and two others from reflections from buildings in Sydney’s CBD.

The lovely light gave me a second chance to capture some scenes I‘d tried yesterday, but which looked better today,

as well as one that I hadn’t.

My vantage point for the Opera House shot was also a good one to construct a panorama of the city

which looks a bit skinny on the web page, but I think might be a good candidate for the wall at home.

After this very satisfactory start (and the usual rather chaotic breakfast at the Intercontinental), we checked out and headed for Circular Quay, and caught the 11 o’clock ferry to Mosman. Jane prowled the decks checking out the view on the 20-minute journey across the water.

At Mosman Bay, we met our friends Lorraine and Paul, with whom we would be staying for the next couple of days. They live in Belrose, a northern suburb of Sydney, and under normal crcumstances it would have been more logical to connect at Manly; but this weekend was the Manly Jazz Festival, rendering parking and other such practicalities out of the question, so Mosman Bay (lower circle below) it was.

The plan for the day was to get towards North Head and stroll down into Manly to see what entertainment the Jazz Festival might offer, so Paul found a suitable parking spot, at North Head Sanctuary, where there was immediately a fantastic view back towards the city.

This photo really demonstrates the popularity of boats around the harbour – with an environment like Sydney Harbour and the sort of weather we were enjoying, then why wouldn’t you?

Of course, being at North Head, we could see across to South Head, and the landmarks we’d passed yesterday – the Hornby Lighthouse

and the Macquarie Lighthouse.

You can just about make out the radar mast in front of the signal station.

North Head clearly had an important military role to play in days past, possibly fuelled by fears at one stage of Japanese aggression. In an enlightened move, the military area has been turned into National Park rather than being sold for development. It features a number of military installations, some of which are used as educational installations, such as a gun emplacement, which has information boards describing how it was used.

Other military buildings are now used as a quarantine station, down by the shore, and there were barracks

parts of which are now used as an entertainment venue

and parts of which are now home to small businesses.

There are also reminders about Australia’s involvement in so many theatres of war.

The path back to Manly led through bush

and past some wildlife, such as this Burton’s legless lizard

and a pair of brush turkeys, which are common enough to be a nuisance to the locals but which were new to our eyes.

They’re called brush turkeys (not bush turkeys) for a reason.

When we saw Manly Beach on the descent (the leftmost beach in the photo below), it was clear that smoke we’d seen earlier was actually quite a significant bush fire.

As we headed down towards Shelly Beach, the path continued along the cliff tops overlooking these beaches, and there was a sombre message among the lovely views.

Shelly Beach presented a rather dissonant juxtaposition:

people having fun on the beach in the foreground whilst a bush fire raged in the background. (We learned later that it was a controlled burn that went somewhat out of control, but no-one was injured.)

On the walk past Shelly Beach, there’s an interesting little art installation built into the rocks,

and then we reached Manly, where the market had been displaced to beachside

by the clearly very popular Manly Jazz Festival.

Manly was very crowded

so (having queued for quite a while to get some splendid ice cream at Gelato Messina) we found a taxi to take us back to the car and headed over to Lorraine and Paul’s house in Belrose for the evening.

Sunday 22 September 2024.

The next day was a chance for us to catch up with more friends who lived in the area – something of a “small world” story.  Two years ago we were exploring Canada on a major trip, one segment of which was spent based in Churchill, on the Hudson Bay, looking for polar bears. Whilst there, we met two delightful Australian ladies, Vicki and Kris, who were pretty much at the start of a fantastically impressive world tour over the space of a whole year. It turned out that they live in Mona Vale, which is near to Belrose and so we arranged to meet them to catch up with them. Vicki picked us up, and took us for a tour of the local beaches.

and Palm Beach proper, where I got a nice close-up of a kookaburra.

Whilst we were with Vicki and Kris, we were visited by a flock of rainbow lorikeets, which are beautifully coloured and really quite noisy.

Kris cooked a wonderful lunch for us and their friends Rosie and Astley, who were great company and whose extensive travel history enlarged our already-daunting list of possible travel destinations before Vicki took us back to Belrose where we could reflect on a lovely occasion. It’s quite common to agree to keep in contact with people met on holiday whilst travelling, but actually rare to find that the connection is deep and enduring. We had met Vicki and Kris on the UK leg of their world trip, and it was clear that they were grand people to stay in touch with; that it was so close to Belrose and such a good opportunity to meet again was a large slice of luck; similar to the slice of luck that enabled us to get back in touch with Sharon and David when we were in Melbourne*.

We have one more day staying in Belrose with Lorraine and Paul.  I wonder what plan they’ve hatched for our final day in the Sydney area?

 

* I’m embarrassed to find out that I didn’t write this day up; it was filled with Melbourne murals and a lovely lunch with David and Sharon, whom we met on a walking holiday in Slovenia back in 2016 and formed a connection similar to the one which kept us in touch with Vicki and Kris. With apologies to them, I will rectify this omission as soon as our schedule permits.

 

 

 

 

Watson for today, then?

Friday 20 September 2024 – Acting on a suggestion from the friends we met last night, we decided that Watsons Bay would be a good destination for an excursion, particularly since the weather outlook was so good – sunshine and temperatures in the mid-20s.

So we headed for the ferry and queued up

to get on to F9 on the B side of Wharf 2. I’ve been pretty impressed with the way the public transport available around Sydney is organised. There’s no need to buy tickets; one can simply “tap on” and “tap off” using a credit card or, in my case, my phone. The trains are double-decker, the ferries seem to be very competently operated and the services have suited us very well on our short stay here. The ferry ride out of Circular Quay offers, unsurprisingly, some great views of the Sydney skyline

and, of course, its iconic structures.

Jane noticed that there were people climbing the bridge,

something that she and I did when we were here last, in 2001. Nice to see it’s still going; and they’ve added the aboriginal flag at the top of the bridge since our last visit, unless I’m mistaken.
Many ships leaving Circular Quay will pass a Martello Tower built on a small island:

Fort Denison, a former military site which is the most complete Martello Tower in the world and has been a museum, tourist attraction, restaurant, and popular location for wedding receptions and corporate events. It’s now closed for conservation work, apparently.
Watsons Bay is an attractive place

with a great view back of the Sydney skyline.

One of Sydney’s great attractions is a restaurant, Doyles, known for its seafood generally and its fish’n’chips specifically. The Watsons Bay location

is the original one, dating from 1885. Another attraction is the heritage trail which starts at Camp Cove (a place, not an over-theatrical chap) and leads up to South Head, the southern jaw of the mouth of Sydney Harbour. It’s a walk. So we went for it. Obviously. It takes you past some of the nice houses there,

and behind a cannon, which is pointing, for some reason, back at Sydney.

The furthest point of the trail, about a kilometre from the start, is Hornby Lighthouse

with the old lighthouse keeper’s cottages beside it.

One can also see how narrow the gap is that leads into Sydney Harbour. North Head – the upper jaw – is really quite close.

The lighthouse is a good, photogenic location. It’s therefore catnip for today’s generations of phone camera wielders (mainly, today, from the far east),

who seem to find it intolerable should a photo not include themselves. In many cases, quite an inordinate amount of time is spent organising poses (e.g. staring (nautically? pretentiously?) into the distance or pointing at the top of the lighthouse as if surprised to see that it has one). This specific posing seems to be a cultural thing among oriental tourists, and I wonder what will become of all of these images. Instagram, I suppose; the idea is that other people should see the photos. I doubt that, once posted online, the images will ever be seen again by their originators.

Grumpy? Me? Bloody right.

We had wanted to continue our walk down the other side of South Head rather than just completing the heritage trail loop. Trouble is, there’s a fucking great military establishment in the way, HMAS Watson,

and they clearly take a dim view of people wandering past their buildings. So, back towards Camp Cove it was,

which at least gave us the chance to take a coffee stop. From there, we cut across to the other side of the head. There’s clearly a military link here, since (as well as the naval base there) the road passed an armoury, an “Officers Quarters” building

and what we think were once gun emplacements.

There was some wildlife action along the way: Jane spotted a kookaburra

which really was sitting in an old gum tree; a couple of remarkable ants nests;

an engaging pair of blue wrens (male and female)

and a bunch of sulphur-crested cockatoos,

who were pretending to be sea birds perching on the cliffs and

inspecting tourists for food value.

We also spotted this dove

which, coincidentally, is a Spotted Dove.

The wrens and the cockatoos were at Gap Bluff, which has a small National Park area and also provides a couple of great cliff views.

There’s a historical memorial there, too;

the anchor belonged to a ship, the Dunbar which was wrecked on nearby rocks

in August 1857. Only one of the 122 aboard survived and the anchor was recovered some 50 years later and placed as a memorial to the others. The wreck was the catalyst for the creation of the Hornby Lighthouse and its survivor, one John James, went on to become the lighthouse keeper there.

Further along from Gap Bluff is the Watsons Bay Signal Station,

first established in1790; a permanent guard would watch out for arriving ships, raising a flag both to give them a sign of the new location of the settlement, and to notify the colony of the imminent arrival of the long awaited ships. Amazingly, the station has remained in permanent use from that date and has thus maintained its role for over two centuries, and from the same building for most of that time.

Near it is a lighthouse, the South Head Upper Light, also called the Macquarie Lighthouse.

Its site is the longest serving lighthouse site in Australia, with some kind of navigational aid in place since 1791 (sadly not sufficiently effective to save the Dunbar, though). The lighthouse shown above was completed in 1883 and is still fully operational. Next to it is the lighthouse keeper’s cottage

and in front of it, complementing the formal informational plaque on the lawns, is a much more informal tribute.

One could have carried on walking the cliff path, but we turned back to the bay to catch the ferry

back to Circular Quay, whence we walked towards the Sydney Royal Botanic Garden. On Circular Quay there are some plaques in the ground celebrating well-known Australians; we recognised a couple

and I suppose this one

must be the one originally dedicated to Rolf Harris.

The Botanic Garden is a large, pleasant park

with some remarkable trees

The tallest palm tree I’ve ever seen

and a few quirky sculptures.

My main objective was to get Mrs. Macquarie point and something called Mrs. Macquarie’s Chair. This Macquarie name keeps cropping up. Major General Lachlan Macquarie (born on the island of Ulva off the coast of the Isle of Mull in Scotland’s Inner Hebrides) was a British Army officer and colonial administrator. Macquarie served as the fifth Governor of New South Wales from 1810 to 1821, and had a leading role in the social, economic, and architectural development of the colony. He is considered by historians to have had a crucial influence on the transition of New South Wales from a penal colony to a free settlement and therefore to have played a major role in the shaping of Australian society in the early nineteenth century, hence the ubiquity of the Macquarie name.

He was married, as we can infer from the naming of Mrs Macquarie’s Chair,

an exposed sandstone rock cut (by convicts in 1810) into the shape of a bench. Folklore has it that Elizabeth Macquarie used to sit on the rock and watch for ships from Great Britain sailing into the harbour. She was known to visit the area and sit enjoying the panoramic views of the harbour. Above the chair is a stone inscription referring to Mrs Macquarie’s Road. That road was built, on the instruction of Governor Macquarie, between 1813 and 1818, and ran from the original Government House to Mrs Macquarie’s Point.

By this stage we were getting a trifle foot- and back-sore, so decided to return to the hotel. We diverted for a quick look into The Calyx,

to see if it would sell us some beer. Sadly, the café is just a café, and coffee wasn’t going to cut it for us, so I took a couple of valedictory photos

and we headed back to the hotel, past the Conservatorium of Music, which has the least music-related architecture I think I’ve ever seen.

Thus ended a very pleasant day’s outing; ample justification for a glass of something cold and a bite to eat. Before we retired for the night, for amusement, I set a timelapse going to cover the comings and goings of the ferries at Circular Quay, which we can see from our hotel room. I hope you find it as engaging as I do.

Tomorrow we leave the city proper to spend a few days with friends who live to the north of Sydney. I have no idea what this means in terms of photos and verbiage on these pages; you’ll just have to keep an eye out to see for yourself, won’t you?