SUNDAY 15 DECEMBER BRISBANE TO MOREE 500kms
From our very strategically located caravan park, it was very easy to get onto and take the motorway west towards Ipswich. We refuelled at Yamanto, near Ipswich – 80cpl.
From Ipswich the highway took us up through Cunningham Gap – not a part of the journey that either of us had been looking forward to, and not a way we’d been before. But it was the standard route used by trucks going south, and we figured it must be better than the climb up the Range to Toowoomba, the other alternative.
Although we climbed steadily, and the road was winding, we had no issues. I was rather reminded of the roads through the Dandenong Ranges at home, but without the really tall mountain ash trees of the forest there. It was a pleasant part of the trip, in the end. Being the weekend, the traffic was not too heavy, and there were not many trucks on the road.
Once through the Range, we were in the farming country of the southern Downs.
Negotiated the northern part of Warwick, still on the Cunningham Highway, then pressed on westwards.
We stopped at Inglewood, to have a brief visit with one of the couples we had worked with earlier in the year, at Adels Grove. I’d arranged this by phone, yesterday. Since we were going through their home town, it seemed impolite not to stop for a chat. We caught up on the doings and gossip from Adels, and entertained them with tales of our employment experiences since Adels. It was a pleasant break in the travel, but after lunch with them, we continued on.
I would happily have stopped for the day at Goondiwindi, where we would cross the border into NSW, but John wanted to extract the maximum distance from the day, so we pressed on to Moree.
There were big thunderclouds building in the western distance, as the afternoon wore on, but little rain eventuated from them, despite some trepidation on our part.
Booked into the Big 4 caravan park, for $17.50, after discount. We were told by the man who booked us in, to lock our van doors, even when we were inside, as the “local” youth (that was not quite his terminology!) would come in and snatch purses and wallets.
Despite this rather dire note, the town looked pleasant enough, as did the caravan parks.
We stayed hitched up. So there was no opportunity to have a look around the town – or to sample the artesian baths the place is known for. It was basically just shower, cook dinner and head for bed.