We were both up at a good hour – 8am – with the intention of going to market.
Cotters Markets were set up each Sunday in the town centre, along Flinders Street. I couldn’t remember going to these on prior visits, but the memory did come back when we got there.
On the way, we passed the Showgrounds, and I did remember going to markets there and that they were good for fresh produce, and also for the trash and treasure type stall that John loves to browse.
Cotters Markets were fairly generic of their type, with much that did not interest us – soaps, candles, saris and the like. There were some fresh produce stalls where we bought bananas and a pineapple. There was some reasonably attractive beaded jewellery.
A “toy” – as in small – dog show was happening at the Markets, and we watched that for a while. I saw enough to make me wonder about that old adage about owners resembling their dogs……..lots of pink, sparkly and fluffy on display. Good thing it wasn’t a bulldog show!
Some of the central Townsville locations (Google)
On the way back, John who had said he knew the way and didn’t need my navigating, “just happened” to be passing the Cutheringa Bowls Club, at West End, so had to call in. Someone there told John that the Thuringowa Club would have a game on today, so then I was asked to navigate out there. It was out in the newer south western edge of the city. John hotfooted it into the club and found it was a mixed (gender) game. Damn it. I agreed to play. At least that should get any bowls obligation out of the way for a week, maybe more – I hoped.
So it was quickly back to the van to don the uniform required. I put our earlier shopping away, whilst John downed a quick biscuit and cheese lunch. I didn’t have time for that, which did nothing to improve my mood. Sometimes it seemed like we just went from one bowls club to the next…….
The event was some sort of memorial afternoon. At least the standard of player was good and the participants sober and serious! It was a well set up club, with real grass greens – as opposed to synthetic grass ones. A lot of bowls purists prefer the original grass, to the synthetic variety.
The people at the club were really pleasant. We got several invites to games at other clubs for through the week; I managed to respond graciously but without committing!
Cakes were served at afternoon tea time and quite a substantial “supper” after the last game – even though it was still broad daylight. There was a spot draw, and I won a cooked chicken. At least that took care of John’s tea, because it was well after 6pm when we got back to the van.
It had cost $16 for the two of us to play, plus the outlay for raffle and post game drinks, so the chook was some return.
I made some quick salads to go with the chook for John for tea; I just had salads, as I do not eat chicken I haven’t cooked myself.
We watched some TV, then slept well, after a full day.
FRIDAY 12 JUNE CHARTERS TOWERS TO TOWNSVILLE 135kms
We did not get up until 8.30am. One of us was feeling somewhat seedy – and it wasn’t me.
Left the park at 10.15, after having a final, breakfast chat with H and M.
The drive to Townsville was pleasant and interesting.
Only a few kms out, the highway crosses the Burdekin River, on the high-up Macrossan Bridge. Downstream from the current road bridge are the spans of both the old and new railway bridges, elevated high above the river. Just before the bridge was a display marker that showed the heights and dates of all the floods, We were past that before I realized, and the driver was not prepared to turn around, or stop for photos.
The highway passed through some hill country but was a great one for driving and towing – absolutely no dramas. Given the dicey brakes, that was a relief. We had not come down to the coast that way, before, and decided it was definitely the best way through the Great Divide, north of the NSW Hunter Valley route, and south of Cooktown.
The hills of the Bowling Green Bay National Park, to the right as we neared Townsville, were quite dramatic in the distance.
We drove straight to the brake service place, because John wanted them to check the van brakes, while it was still attached to Truck and thus mobile. Finding the place, with just a map in an information brochure, was a bit fraught. Then we had to do a couple of circuits round the block, before John found a place he could park the rig.
He spoke with the brake people. They had a mobile service that could come to the caravan park to look at the van brakes, if necessary, but they were too busy, right then, to do anything. It was also lunchtime! However, the man John spoke to seemed to know immediately what the problem would be, with the Truck brakes. He said getting parts might be a problem!
Thus, to the Lakes Caravan Park. More navigating! We had not stayed here before, and I had chosen it as being fairly central, in the event of being without transport for a while. It was close to the Castletown shopping complex and a whole strip of fast food outlets. There was the usual traffic noise, as it was on a main road.
All the sites here were en-suite ones. They cost $40 a night, but the seventh night was free, so our ten nights cost $360. The park contained a mix of permanent residents and tourists – not always an easy mix. It had frontage – fenced off by a high fence – to a series of man made lakes. Sites with an outlook over these were very pleasant, indeed, but ours was not one of them. One probably needed to book further ahead than the day before, to get one of those, at this time of year, especially as Townsville is a centre where a lot of southerners come for two or three months, over winter.
Our site at The Lakes
We looked out on a couple of permanent set ups and a little laundry area. But there was some grass behind us. The en-suite was showing its age, but clean and adequate. Overall, it was comfortable enough, and would serve our purpose, while things got fixed.
After we had set up, John was straight onto the internet and phone, chasing the Truck brake part the brake service man had mentioned as “probably” being needed. He found out that our former Landrover Service Centre in Melbourne could supply it, as could a place in Brisbane that a friend once told John about. So, at least that would not be a problem – if it was what was wrong!
I navigated John to the West End Bowls Club which, on my very limited map, was closest to where we were staying. It was closed, kaput, defunct – all cemented over!
From there, we continued across through town, with me frantically trying to match up little map with the reality outside Truck. Our goal was the fishermen’s marina fish co-op shop, which we’d visited back in 2002. It was across the Ross River and the railway lines, almost to the mouth of the Ross River, through one of the older sections of the town. I bought red emperor for tonight’s tea, some crumbed whiting for John for tomorrow night, and a piece of barra for me. All up cost, $23. Very reasonable. I resisted their attractively priced prawns – for now. I was given a loyalty card that would get me 10% off my fifth purchase made. We expected to be back – several times – before we left here.
Had our happy hour sitting outside. There were bush curlews calling from by the lake – wonderful and unexpected right in town.
The day here was warmer than any we’d had, to date. and quite humid. The night was a very comfortable temperature.
Later in the evening, as we were watching TV, there was a series of sirens heading past. I missed the bush noises!
I was woken too early, by the coughing of our smoker neighbour – outside his van again, right by our window. He didn’t just sit inside his annexe, but out the front of it – right in line with our side vents. So, even closed and zipped up, the smell of smoke still permeated our van. Even John got up earlier than usual.
Our site – coughing neighbour’s annexe to the left
After breakfast, John checked the van brakes, jacking up first one side then the other, and taped up a loose wire.
I sent emails and downloaded share price data. I was trying to keep on top of the little bit of share trading I did, whilst on the road.
John phoned a brake service establishment in Townsville and booked Truck in for Monday.
I phoned and booked us into The Lakes Caravan Park, for ten days. That should give enough time for Truck repairs – and two weekends for John to bowl!
After lunch, refuelled Truck, then went for a drive out to the Burdekin Weir. There was still quite a bit of water coming over it – this area flooded earlier in the year.
Weir on the Burdekin River
Then back into town, to the Visitor Centre, where I collected some pamphlets and brochures – mostly relating to Townsville. Due to our earlier plans involving going straight north to Cooktown and FNQ, I didn’t have much in the way of Townsville material with me.
Even though we had spent time in Charters Towers before, it was worth looking at some features again. We walked through the beautiful old Stock Exchange building, and down the main street, with its superb old buildings that dated from the gold rush days of the late 1800’s. There was an interesting display of old photos in a shop window, and information on flood heights, which can be fearsome in these parts. The 2009 flood, earlier this year, out at the measuring post at the Macrossan Bridge, on the Burdekin River, was the second highest on record – huge.
We browsed for a while in an antique/junk shop which had some good items, but they were not cheap, so any temptation was resisted.
We were walking back towards where Truck was parked, when there was really loud, attention-getting coughing behind us. Turned – and it was John’s nephew M and his wife H, who had been shopping and spotted us just ahead of them. It was not a surprise to them, as they had been waiting in the check-in line at the caravan park, as we drove out, earlier, and recognized Truck. Over the years, we had a history of meeting up unexpectedly and totally unplanned, in distant locations. Cairns, Mallacoota, Hobart, Litchfield. A couple of times, we had properly attempted to arrange to meet up and travel for a while in tandem, but this had never eventuated – something unforeseen always intervened. Pity as they were the rare people we would have enjoyed a not-too-long period of travel with. But we did a pretty good job at unplanned crossing of paths.
Back at the park, we all had happy hour at their van, then they came to our van to cook their sausage tea and we all ate together. They were heading for Cairns. We tried to persuade them to come to Townsville for a few days – we always really enjoyed their company – but they were not to be budged. There were vague statements that we might manage to meet up again, later, in Cairns or Cooktown.
It was a very pleasant catch-up, going on into the evening – although one of us did have rather too much wine.
The night was very chilly – I needed to fish out my woolly bedsocks!
WEDNESDAY 10 JUNE EMERALD TO CHARTERS TOWERS 480kms
I felt much better this morning, for no logical reason except time passing.
Despite not having done a pre-pack up yesterday, we were away by 8.15am. We needed an early start today. One benefit of the early morning park noise.
Took the Gregory Highway, northwards. Further on, out beyond Clermont, this became the Gregory Development Road, meaning it changed from a normal road wide enough for cars to comfortably pass side by side, to a much narrower one, where meeting oncoming traffic usually meant at least one of the vehicles had to move partly onto the road shoulder. Rough edges on the sealed part could present problems when doing this. Any sort of oncoming vehicle that was wider than normal could present even bigger problems, as one looked frantically for somewhere to pull over that wouldn’t wreck, roll or bog our rig. A major benefit of having the CB radio in Truck was that, tuned to Channel 40, the chatter of escort vehicles gave us good advance warning of that sort of oncoming hassle. However, road trains didn’t have escorts and one just hoped to see them coming a long way off.
The scenery of the Peak Downs district, north of Emerald, is very distinctive and different. The peaks to the east of the highway, in the distance, were pointy and quite dramatic – it was a former volcanic zone. Here, in elderly times, the Earth surface plate that carries Australia, moved very slowly over a “hot spot” way deep below, melting some of the plate and allowing eruption of the molten lava from below. Because of the plate movement, a chain of eruptions resulted. Subsequent erosion has done the rest.
On a future visit to these parts, we thought, we should try to explore some of the Peak Range National Park, maybe from a base at Capella or Clermont.
That earlier volcanic activity has resulted in some rich soils in parts of the area around Emerald, and with irrigation water available, we were passing through some productive farmland.
We stopped for fuel at Clermont. Coal mining dominated here, and north of Clermont we passed the waste dumps. Running alongside the road, for kilometres, was the conveyor belt that carries coal from one huge open cut to the rail loading facilities at another huge mine a few kms further north. From here, the coal is railed to Gladstone port. The intrusion of all this industrial activity seemed extra ugly in the open countryside.
Coal conveyor belt, north of Clermont
Once past that section, the surrounds were basically dry woodland mixed with dry grasslands. It suddenly seemed a much drier area than further south. It became rather monotonous.
We stopped at Belyando Crossing Roadhouse, to top up fuel, eat our lunch and buy some cold drinks to have with it. In 1998, I took a photo here of our rig, parked beside a three trailer road train, dwarfed by it. I used that photo on the cover of one of my annual family Xmas present calendars, that feature our travels. Now, the area in front of the roadhouse seemed more bare, and the big gum tree that had featured also in the photo, had gone. With more travellers using the Gregory Developmental Road, now that much more of it had been partly turned into a good, two lane road, perhaps the roadhouse had needed more parking space. After all, it was the only one for 370kms.
About 90kms north of Belyando, John was getting sleepy. I’d been reading to him for a while, from a Len Beadell book, as we were out of any radio range. Talking about what I was reading helped to keep him focussed.
Gregory Developmental Road
We stopped at the open area on the north side of the Cape River low level bridge crossing. This was a popular free camp area for travellers. It was also a safe place for trucks to pull in for a break, so it could be noisy at night. John had a nanna nap in the van. I wandered around, chatting with others stopped there. Some of them had been in Belyando at the same time as us. Some of them were trying to work out where they would stay tonight – what was the best cheap place near Charters Towers.
Cape River stopping area; Gregory Developmental Road at right
John woke after half an hour, much refreshed. On previous trips, if he got sleepy and I still felt fresh, he would nap in the passenger’s seat whilst I drove on. But when I’d suggested we swap drivers, when he was getting tired, he’d refused, saying he wouldn’t let me drive, because of the state of the brakes! This was ridiculous! If they were that much of a problem, then – in my view – we absolutely had to deviate to Townsville – instead of continuing north from Charters Towers – and stay there until we got the issue finally sorted. It would be silly to continue towards Cooktown – our goal – and get into the winding, hilly sections of the Atherton Tablelands, if the brakes were too unreliable for me to drive with! John was still of two minds about it all.
It seemed that incompetent, unreliable mechanic, back home, had cost us more than wasted money! Now it was going to be more of our precious time – and more money!
I had phoned the Dalrymple Tourist Park in Charters Towers, yesterday, and booked us into an en-suite site for a couple of nights. I made what I later decided was a tactical error – navigating from a paper map – and my route took us right through the centre of town. Was not the easiest, with van on the back, and driver was not all that happy. We hadn’t been to this Park before and all I knew was that it was on the road north. When I booked, that was the way we were going. Anyway, we got there, through all the school time traffic!
With a 5% discount for our Seniors’ Card, it cost us $66.50 for the two nights. I was happy with the value, because it was a nice park, and the ensuite was very good. But the lady on Reception was new, flustered and not very efficient. She forgot to take my key deposit, and then didn’t give me the ensuite key, which I had to walk back for, when I realized it wasn’t in the door.
After setting up, John decided he wanted to walk to the bowls club, a few blocks away – he was considering the options, from here, and wanted to research the local bowls scene. However, there was no one at the club to give him any information. But the walk – probably a couple of kms – was pleasant enough and I really enjoyed the exercise after the long day of travel.
I made coleslaw and cut up the leftover cold pork, for tea.
After thinking about it over tea, John decided we would go to Townsville and get the brakes worked on – good!
TV until about 10pm, then bed. The forecast was for really cold nights, even in Townsville. I felt like we had brought winter with us.
Our nearest neighbour here was a really heavy smoker. I had to close all the van windows on that side, and zip up the flap in the poptop canvas. But the smell still permeated into the van. His annexe was really close, and he seemed to spend most of his time there, sitting and smoking – and coughing all the time! Oh well, mostly our caravan park experiences had been positive ones. This was just an unfortunate negative in an otherwise nice place.
It was the usual super early morning. I hadn’t had enough sleep. My own fault.
I was not feeling well. Had felt a bit “off” for several days, since we were at Takarakka. Some sort of stomach bug, I thought. Or maybe something in the water there? Today the tum was really aching. I had promised John roast pork for dinner tonight, but was feeling unenthusiastic about it.
And so to the shops. I gave into temptation and visited a patchwork shop, where I couldn’t resist some very pretty aqua/blue fabric quarters, to stash away for a future project. That’s what afflicts quilters, it seems.
To the butcher, whose voucher I’d won. Their meat looked great. As well as the piece of roasting pork, I got lamb chops, scotch fillet steak, mince and bacon. $55 worth, but less the $25 voucher, it was a cheap lot.
We did a big stock up at the supermarket – much fresh fruit and vegetables in particular, and other fresh foods. That cost $200. We were doing our small bit for the economy of the towns where we stayed, for sure.
While putting the shopping away, I dropped a new tub of hommus, and broke it. Only a split and a small leak of oil, so not the massive clean up of yesterday. Suddenly I seemed to be all clumsy.
After lunch, John became engrossed in his computer game and forgot that he’d intended to take down the awning roof.
Logically, our parking area should have been straight ahead, beside our awning, but no – that was for next door!
I sewed, cooked the roast, read the daily paper.
Our neighbours with the horse float, who had been stranded here, got their vehicle back this afternoon, and promptly left for Longreach. Watching them pack up and hitch up provided a bit of a diversion in the afternoon.
The pork roast was done, as usual, in the electric frypan, but – as I expected, it was too moist in there for the rind to crackle. I tried frying it separately, but that didn’t work. But the meat was excellent – I only had a very small helping.
The day had been warm again, but the night was chilly. Early to bed.
It was the same early morning for me. A pleasantly warm day.
I washed John’s jeans, by hand. That was not too onerous, after the long soaking they’d had.
I was able to book us here for an extra day.
Making up patches for my quilt was really flying along, with so much time to fill in, here.
Got chatting to a neighbour, two sites over. They had been here for two weeks, due to their vehicle breaking down. They were towing a fifth wheeler that was also a horse float. She said that they sometimes took their horses away on a trip with them. My imagination ran a bit riot about that! Wondered if the division between the residence and the horse part was totally smell proof? I gave her some books I didn’t want to keep.
John fancied a Subway lunch, so off we went to get that. After, went for a walk in the Botanic Gardens, but not all that far, nor fast. The Gardens were on the small side, so it did not take long to feel we’d “done that”.
Took a drive, out to Lake Maraboon, about 25kms out of town. There were “lifestyle” small acreage blocks along much of the way, irrigated from the Nogoa River. I bought a couple of $2 bags of mandarins from a roadside stall.
The road crosses the top of the Fairburn Dam wall, which created the large Lake Maraboon on the Nogoa River.
The road crosses the top of the Firburn Dam wall
It was very impressive – the second largest dam lake in Qld. Despite that, Emerald still had a major flood last year, when there was so much rain that the dam spillway overflowed, big time. The Nogoa drains north from the flanks of the Carnarvon Ranges and can collect a lot of run off in a short time.
The Dam spillway, with the Nogoa River channel visible
Back in December 1998, we stayed at the Lake Maraboon Caravan Park, for a week, on our way south. It seemed to have really been spruced up since then. It was really crowded. We hadn’t tried to book in here, this time, as John wanted to be closer to bowls. It would have been a far more pleasant place to stay. I was surprised at how much I had forgotten about being out here – and about Emerald in general.
We bought icy poles at the shop in the Park, and wandered about whilst we ate them. There were not as many people using the water as I expected, it being a long weekend. Visited the lookout over the dam. The water area was vast. I had some recollection of taking sunset photos across it, back when we stayed here.
Lake Maraboon
Returned to Emerald. That had been a pleasant little outing.
Tea was battered fish, bought frozen, and salads. Whilst making it, and delving around in the fridge for lettuce, I managed to tip over a large tub of yoghurt. The lid popped off and yoghurt spread everywhere. It was a big clean up job. Note to self: from now on, only buy small tubs of yoghurt.
A rare computer night for me: emails, looking at forums, playing my mahjong game – till 1am. That damned Emperor’s Mahjong is addictive! John was up even later than me.
The night was cold. Maybe I was premature in stowing the heater under the bed? There were forecasts of minus 5 degrees for the Granite Belt. That would not be much fun in a caravan!
I was wide awake and up at 7am, due to the “environmental” noise around us. Not happy about it, either. This would have to rank as just about the poorest value $30 a night we’d ever spent!
The sky was clear and blue and the day warmed up quickly.
Whilst John slumbered on, influenced by his late night, I hand washed a couple of T shirts, at the laundry, and also the kitchen floor mat. When John surfaced, he declared he wanted his jeans washed. They obviously had not been dirty enough yesterday, when I did the machine washing! I soaked those in the bucket.
The better sites beyond, a pretty sunset, and the corner of our near-neighbour’s car
John wanted to be at the Bowls Club by 1pm, for a 1.30 start. Then, we sat around there, outside, staring at the grass, until things got organized at about 2pm. John played in a pairs game, with other serious bowlers, and enjoyed himself.
I played as skip against another visitor, a lady from near Cairns who, we discovered, had family living near us, at home. For leads, they paired us with two local “ladies”, who had little idea of bowls, and little interest in gaining more. They were already well inebriated before we started. They spent the game sinking vodka cruisers, smoking incessantly, and generally holding up the game whenever they spotted a male they could drape themselves all over. The other skip told them off a couple of times, which made no difference at all. Unfortunately, visitors to other clubs can all too often finish up teamed with those none of the local club members want to play with. I eventually won, narrowly, which really meant that my partner was slightly less of a handicap than my opponent’s.
If going through those kinds of ordeals was what it took for me to get to go bushwalking, then maybe I would give up the walking!
The afternoon was slightly redeemed when a draw of the winning scorecards was done and I won a $25 meat voucher, for a local butcher. John was sympathetic about my experience – the entire club had seen and heard the spectacle on our rink!
A decision was made that we would try to extend our stay here by another day. Then, after the Monday holiday, we could go to the butcher to redeem my prize, get meat and other shopping, have a roast dinner, and get an early start the next day, for what would be a long stage.
I made corn and zucchini fritters for tea, with corn cobs and a tomato-avocado-onion salsa. John did not comment on the vegetarian offering, but I observed that he ate a heap of the fritters.
This Adventurous Age 