Meanwhile in Monto...

Today was one of those ripping days. We had arrived in Monto late yesterday afternoon and settled into our cabin at Monto Caravan Park with a minimum of fuss. Hosts Peter and Lesley obviously run a great place to stay. Our cabin was meticulously clean, the grounds very pleasant, the location just off the main highway ideal and the park was continually busy with people coming and going. After about five minutes, we decided to extend our stopover to three nights.

Dinner at the Albert Hotel was value for money, very tasty and promptly produced at our table. A glass of vino, a pizza for Michael and a lamb shank for me was forty dollars. A bargain. Even better, the lamb shank special was two meals for the price of one, so I immediately had dinner for the following evening.

This morning was slow and relaxed. We didn't depart from our digs until close to noon. After checking out the local tourism information office, we decided to trek up to the Monal mining area. Due to the twists and turns in the road, we did not hurry. The scenery was spectacular - steep hills with equally deep valleys, several slightly damp causeway crossings, curious cattle and abundant birdlife. Kangaroos were spotted on the return journey. We took our time and finally arrived in Monal (circa 1850 or thereabouts) around two o'clock.

We were captivated. The machinery had been abandoned in very rugged country. Apparently, over fifty horses had been required to bring in the boiler. That discarded cylinder, along with the stamp head battery and other rusting paraphernalia lay dotted around on the steep slopes.

Out of Lily to begin photography. I climbed onto the top of the boiler and walked along to take photos. All was going swimmingly until I turned to retrace my steps and immediately fell down the hatch in the top of the boiler. Bollocks.

Naturally, I was hurt. Skinned right shin (bleeding of course) and grazed and bruised left thigh. The pain was thundering straight away. Michael helped me off the boiler so I could sit on the ledge in front of the stamp head battery. After a few minutes, I felt slightly less wobbly and made my way gently back to the car.

Michael continued to take photographs. We'd come all this way and I was damned if we were going to leave before he'd thoroughly enjoyed himself. Eventually, we turned Lily back towards Monto. An hour and a half later, we were driving into the Monto Hospital entry. As I'd cut myself on fairly ancient metal and I couldn't remember when I'd had my last tetanus injection, we decided to play it safe. Once more, my capacity for disaster had led me into a regional hospital.

The cheerful and efficient nurse Leanne, in the Emergency Department of Monto Hospital, saw to my injuries. She also arranged for me to have a tetanus booster at the adjoining medical centre. We waved goodbye to Leanne and Jen and hobbled across the carpark. Receptionist Pauline took my details and directed me to sit down. Then Doctor Vish (previously a practising GP in Northam) took us into his inner sanctum. We were amused. We had travelled to the other side of Australia to be treated by a doctor who had lived about seventy kilometres from our home in Beverley.

Some panadeine forte swallowed, my leg dressed, the tetanus injection stuck in my upper arm (with a suitable amount of swearing) and a script for more pain relief and we were out the door. We drove the short distance to our cabin and settled in for the duration.

An hour or so later, after a couple of vinos, I am feeling so much better. Off to bed very soon...

Childers - inside the Paragon Cinema.

Outside the Paragon cinema.

Typical Queenslander en route to Monto.

Mt Walsh  National Park, en route to Monto.

Monal mining centre - forty-five kilometres outside Monto.

The defendant...

Having hobbled back to Lily.

Injury on show.

Curious cow.

late afternoon vista.

Bridge slightly the worse for wear, just outside Monto.

Three Surprising Days in Bundaberg

Monday morning was rushed. We slept in until after eight o'clock and had to Be Gone from our charming Home Base Coolum by ten o'clock. A flurry of packing and cleaning ensued. At precisely six minutes to ten, we locked the door and farewelled the first stop of our Queensland Odyssey.

We didn't get very far. Breakfast had been sadly abandoned due to time pressures. Freddy Fuddpukka's fueled us for the journey. We turned Lily in the direction of Childers, fifty kilometres south of Bundaberg. and set out on the Bruce Highway, the national highway all the way to Cairns.

Stopping for lunch in Maryborough, we grabbed a sandwich in a shopping centre food court. Quite acceptable. What was rather extraordinary was the gulf between my memories of Queensland as a child and the reality of 2017. Towns had grown, the traffic was heavier and the highway busier. Yet some of my memories were, thankfully, correct and relevant. The cane fields, cane trains and cane field fires were all present, affirming long held visions of earlier times.

Brother Simon's house in Sharon, outside of Bundaberg, should have been easy to find. Unfortunately, the words "don't go through Bundaberg" had been seared into my brain, so I directed Michael to take the Gin Gin road. Wrong. Luckily, Google Maps saved us and send us on an alternate route back towards Sharon, including over a spectacular low causeway across the Burnett River.

We drove down Simon's driveway to his house by the Burnett River, about fifteen kilometres outside Bundaberg.The view was jaw dropping, the house quietly sitting in the surrounding bush and the resident French backpackers very welcoming. We had arrived.

Dinner was low key and pleasant with Simon. A busy GP, he was usually out early and home late. His escape, a low maintenance house with wide verandahs, high above the river and the flood line, was peace personified. We were not late to bed either.

The following morning was all about sleep. We rose refreshed. Mike had contacted his oldest daughter Sarah, who worked in town. We met her for lunch. Unbelievable experience. As was meeting her daughter Jess - my great niece. A wonderful hour.

We arranged a family dinner at Sarah's house that evening. The afternoon was filled with a visit to the Bundaberg Rum distillery. The entry included the jaunt around the museum and two delicious rum samples at the end.

A brief sojourn back at Simon's house for an hour. I hung out our freshly washed clothes. We drove out to Burnett Heads for dinner. Sarah and her partner Geoff lived in a comfortable and attractive house within a beautiful tropical garden. Jess entertained us with Audrey, her bearded dragon, her musical and exceptional artistic talent. The BBQ was tasty and the company fantastic. We made arrangements to meet again in February. New family looks like we will be making visits east as often as we can.

Second morning - awake earlier. More washing. Off to the Botanic Gardens and the Hinkler Aviation Museum and his English house, relocated to Bundaberg. Outstanding. Bert Hinkler was a fascinating man - aviator, inventor, soldier, lover and husband. Best known for his record breaking flight between England and Australia, he was far more than that one feat. Killed at the age of forty in a flying accident, his legend lives on in Bundaberg.

That night was a family get-together around the fire with steak, garlic bread, veggies and salad. Yum. Simon's hospitality was unforgettable. We sat, sharing stories of our lives, truly appreciating each other's trials and triumphs.

We will be returning in our late summer. This trip was taught me that family is fragile and precious and needs to be nurtured and defended.

Today we left Bundaberg after dropping Mike at the airport for his return to the Deep North. We catch up with him again in Cooktown on 17 August. In the meantime, we have eleven days on our own. We are creating a brand spanking new adventure. Whoopee.

Postscript -

I was hugely entertained by the main drag in Bundaberg. Bourbong Street became, in no particular order, Bourbon Street, Bong Bong Street, Bing Bong Street, Bing Bang Bong Street and in due course, Who Flung Dung Street. Naturally.

Queensland is weird. There were homicidal streams on the way to Bundy.

Safely arrived - B1 and B2 on Simon's verandah.

 Well hello to you!

Dusk at Sharon on the Burnett River. 

Bourbong Street.

Off to the Rum Distillery!

Introducing Audrey. She was, fortunately, a tee totaller.

Niece Sarah, great niece Jess and some random bloke named Geoff.

Sarah is my kind of girl!

At the Bert Hinkler Aviation Museum...

Model of Bert's home.

The Boys with Bert.

Sculpture within the museum.

Dinner - Queensland style.

Brothers in Arms - Michael and Simon.

Good morning!

Morning mist on the Burnett River.

Celebrating @ Freddy Fuddpukka's

To quote Google, a Freddy Fudpucker may be a tequila based cocktail that will fill the quaffee with a warm glow of happiness. Freddy Fuddpukka's is an awesome cafe at Coolum Beach which offers all day breakfasts, delicious lunches, great coffee and yummy little sweet nothings to fortify their guests after some serious  shopping.

We had visited Freddy's on a couple of occasions on our previous trip in December. The proprietors and staff have successfully sewed up a great business. Many of their visitors are elderly on walking frames or using walking sticks for mobility. Freddy's prides itself on providing excellent and attentive service. There are indoor and outdoor seating areas, dog watering facilities, a ramp and plenty of room.

A perfect location for brother Michael's 60th birthday with our cheerfully loud family celebration. Dad was like a pig in mud. He didn't actively join in our conversation but sat with a beaming smile on his face, enjoying three out of four of his children and his son-in-law.

We spent a very happy two hours enjoying each other's company. A birthday cake completed proceedings. We shared a bottle of red with Dad. He was delighted to have a few tipples. The Birthday Boy sank a few cleansing ales.

We guided Dad back to Lily with the help of Wilbur Wheelie Walker. Once at the Care Centre, Dad settled into the comfort of his trusty chair. He'd had a marvellous time - lunch with the family, a couple of walks, a few glasses of vino, all with a contentment of the elderly statesman perusing his empire.

Mike and I wandered back to Dad's digs later in the afternoon. He was snoozing in the cocoon of his chair. We asked him if he wanted to wake up for a chat. He gracefully declined, far preferring to stay in Cloud Cuckoo Land than speak to his offspring. Quite understandable.

The rest of the day was spent, as we had begun, with the dynamic duo of Michael and Michael keeping me on my toes. Our last day in Coolum Beach had been an absolute blast.

Slight confusion as to who was the Birthday Boy!

Father and youngest son.

David in fine form.

The other Michael...

The Greeks @ Freddy Fuddpukka's.

Family mug shot.

Small things sometimes surprise.

And on a nautical theme - it's just a lean to the left...

Dad, Mike and the cake.

Blowing out his candles under Dad's approving gaze.

And while Dad was enjoying his afternoon nap, some other residents arrived for afternoon tea.