Heavenly Beverley : A Colourful (Albeit Too Brief) Snapshot of Cooktown.

Leaving Cairns with both reluctance and excitement, we made our way north towards Cooktown. Choosing the the Savannah route through Kuranda, Mareeba, Mt Molloy, Mt Carbine, Palmer River, Lakeland and into Cooktown was longer but breathtaking. We had considered that parts of the drive would be similar to the Port Hedland-Broome section. There were a few less than jaw-dropping glimpses, but the majority of the drive was loaded with natural beauty.

We drove through and around mountains. Real mountains that appear to touch the sky. Fantastic views from lookouts. Close to our destination was the Black Mountain National Park. The steep sides were layered in a helter-skelter fashion with gigantic granite boulders of all sizes and shapes. Cooling magma had caused this amazing effect. Their colour was the result of blue-green algae habitation along with the residue of iron and manganese. Words and photos don't do Black Mountain appropriate justice.

We arrived in the FNQ (Far North Queensland) frontier town mid-afternoon. Our accommodation unit, which my brother had booked and where he also lived, was easy to locate and will henceforth be known as Fawlty Towers. Proprietor Sybil was spasmodic in her presence for the entirety of our stay. As a Lady about Town, she was much better at being seen at the Botanic Gardens or the Markets or Anywhere Else.

More about "the Asylum" and Sybil later. Brother Michael was overjoyed to see us. We took him to dinner at the local top spot - the Sovereign Resort. The food was sensational and sitting outdoors on a warm evening was sublime. All was well in our world.

Up relatively bright and early the next morning. We were introduced to Rebekah, Michael's youngest daughter, and her younger children - Tyler, a stocky little dynamo aged nearly two and baby Rachel, who had just turned seven months. Kate aged nine was at school. Becca is a stunning young woman, bright, articulate, intelligent and obviously adores her children. Although a Mum at a very early age, she has the patience of a saint and a fabulous sense of humour, which serves her well in any situation.

We visited Finch Bay to begin our exploration of Cooktown. Once again, the views were indescribably beautiful. We played and explored and walked and danced in the shallows of the Pacific Oceans. So different from anywhere else we'd ever seen.

Cooktown Botanic Gardens were a real treat. I discovered that Joseph Banks was not the only botanist aboard the "Endeavour" when James Cook and his crew beached the ship for the forty-eight days that were necessary to repair the gaping hole in her hull. Daniel Solander was also on board and his name was everywhere, along with Banks, throughout the entire Gardens. Yet, I had never heard of him before coming to Cooktown.

We enjoyed a riotous lunch with Becca and the children at the cafe. Tyler provided the comic relief. A sturdy and plucky toddler, he wandered on the gravel paths, barefoot and totally oblivious to any discomfort. With his blond curls and cheeky little grin, he was engaging and irresistible. And exceptionally busy.

Becca left us, with high hopes of her children falling asleep in the car. The Bobsie Twins decided to retire for a beer under the mango tree after dropping me at the James Cook Museum. We agreed that they would pick me up in an hour to meet Kate as school ended for the day.

Housed in the former school and convent established by the Sisters of Mercy in the 1880s, the museum further widened my already wide eyes. The building itself was saved from demolition in 1969 and a rapid restoration allowed its opening by Queen Elizabeth in April 1970. A Victorian Gothic building, situated high to catch the breeze - apparently the Sisters would pray for any zephyr - and surrounded by tropical gardens all named by Banks and Solander, I was mesmerised. Cooktown was so much more than James Cook.

The museum told the story of Country, of Cook's arrival and departure, of relative peace until gold was discovered on the Palmer River and the creation of Cooktown as a port to service the mining industry. And like many Goldfields towns, Cooktown's boom was followed by bust. Declining from the 1890s, Cairns eclipsed Cooktown as a major port. The convent and school moved lock, stock and barrel to Herberton in the Tablelands. Cyclones and fires and the First World War decimated the population. There was a brief revival for the building during the Second World War when American servicemen used it for a variety of purposes. Offered back to the Sisters of Mercy after the war, the building deteriorated further through lack of use.

Finally, after road access was finished between Cairns and Cooktown in 1950, the population steadied. The rise of tourism led to the re-awakening of the town. And the saving of the building allowed for its establishment as the museum. The Centenary of Federation injected fortunate funding to carry on restoration work and house the "Endeavour" anchor and cannon, jettisoned on 10 June 1770, during frantic efforts to lighten the damaged ship.

After an hour or so, I staggered out of the building, my brain reeling with new information. I was picked up by B1 and B2 and introduced to Kate, my great niece, and a lovely well-behaved child. Later, after consultation with Gran (the delightful and resourceful Jenny), another member of our burgeoning extended family, all agreed Kate would have a sleepover with us.

Dinner at Jacky Jacky's Herbs and Spices Thai Restaurant. Great food, great company and a doggy bag for Michael to boot. Kate was an additional treat and her behaviour was flawless.

Markets next morning. Kate and I left the male version of Sleeping Beauty in a horizontal position. I bought her breakfast at the excellent Capers cafe. Within five minutes, we had added Kate's friend Mary to our little party. After picking up Michael, who had graduated to a vertical position, we returned to the Markets and plunged into a sea of colour, laughter, and activity. Two pairs of boardies for Michael and a shirt for me. We parted company with the family and left to explore the historical museum and the local Gallery. Both were exceptional experiences. We could have stayed there much longer but our feet were tired and Michael was hungry.

After a fortifying sit down back at the Sovereign and enjoying a couple of mid-afternoon drinks, we were ready for our final evening.

Journeying to Michael and Jenny's property on the banks of the Endeavour River was a twenty-five-minute drive. The house commands a high position above the river. Jenny lives there with their eldest son Chris. Through a series of sadly unresolved circumstances, Michael is a resident at Fawlty Towers. Becca also currently lives at the house but is a frequent visitor to town.

Jenny herself is a woman of grit, integrity, and skill. She manages the garden centre at the Cooktown Hardware. When at home, she prefers her garden to the house. A large established veggie patch, fruit trees, her beloved tropical plants, chickens and a goat keep her very active. Added to the mix are the family dog and two cats. Jenny's life is packed. We enjoyed her company immensely and the BBQ dinner feat was excellent.

We were sad to farewell Jenny. We were sadder when we left Michael, Becca and her children and the town the next morning. We were not sad to leave Fawlty Towers.

I have chosen not to name this establishment as I suspect the Health Department would close the place in five seconds. People like my brother and "Nutty" would then have nowhere to live. The main building is decrepit and dingy. My brother's room is not pleasant. We were given the disabled unit, which I suspect is the best room. Sybil floated in on our last afternoon inquiring if all was satisfactory. All was not satisfactory but maintenance was not a priority and I could see no point complaining. The bathroom basin leaked, the shower shrieked, the exhaust fan growled, the ceiling fan thumped out very bad dance music all night, the bed creaked alarmingly and the screen door could not be locked. Our fellow guests were either indigenous people on their way to Somewhere Else or tourists who discovered the enormity of their mistake and left promptly the next morning. Fawlty Towers is frequently less than fully occupied and we know why.

Which was an incredible shame as Cooktown itself was a wonderful stopover. The chance to meet family and discover the depth of Cooktown's past was fantastic. And there were so many surrounding places we could not visit due to time constraints.

Cooktown has grown to a population of nearly two and a half thousand residents, most of whom seem to be school aged children. The town supports the local region, has a thriving tourism industry and a renewal of surrounding mining. This is a fascinating place and we will return.

Just not to Fawlty Towers.

Cairns to Cooktown vistas -