Like wow (Port Douglas, Queensland)

Thanks to one of my favourite Australian bands the Hoodoo Gurus for today's post title. Why you ask dear reader? Patience, in time all will be revealed and my apology for late. Yesterday was a big day at the end I needed a drink to recover. Wow.

The weather continues to be perfect. Sometimes there is a little cloud in the morning but it always clears to blue skies and the humidity hovers somewhere around the 60% mark. It was an early start today because we had to be on a bus at 8:20am with 8 other intrepid souls for a day of exploring FNQ (Far North Queensland) with Tony's Tropical Tours.

There was another couple from our Hotel, also from Sydney and a couple from Melbourne who were staying at the Sheraton Mirage and the final members of our party were a mother and her two adult sons from Adelaide. Now, if we followed stereotypes, which group would be the focal point for jokes? No prize if your answer was Adelaide. Wow.

We've done the reef several times from several different places, twice from Port Douglas, so we thought a tour of the land might be the place to begin our sight seeing. This tour is popular because it is a full day itinerary and caters only to small groups. In hindsight, Jayne wasn't particularly impressed because there wasn't anything on tour we could not have done or organised ourselves, however, the point was we didn't have to do anything. Also, we do not have a car up here, so that would have been the first hurdle.

Our guide, Steve, is a very affable and knowledgeable person, although his stories of 'Captain Cook' and his exploits have devolved more from the Cook legend and a whitewash of history rather than reality. I guess he is catering to his audience because Lieutenant Cook wasn't nearly as successful as he was painted. For a more interesting perspective of the history of Australia, might I suggest you invest in Girt, An Unauthorised History of Australia, by David Hunt.

Cute caterpillar

The first stop was Mossman Gorge. We had a guided walk around the track and saw some interesting plants, bugs, lizards and a sizeable red bellied black snake. The river looked beautiful but apparently a swim in it could be fatal. Crocodiles. It didn't seem to deter some people and there were plenty of fish in the water as well. Standing on land we were assailed by swarms of March flies (I know, it's December right). The game became, kill a March fly and throw them to the fish. Great game, if you are fish and not being bitten by the flies.

Fish

Boyd's lizard

Random vista

The next stop was morning tea, although I wasn't entirely convinced I'd walked far enough to enjoy the homemade muffins and choc chip biscuits, but I reasoned with myself that the day was still young. The muffins and biscuits were beautiful and the Daintree tea was a nice accompaniment. 

A cruise on the Daintree River searching for crocodiles was next. Our captain Ray was every inch the stereotype of a laconic north Queenslander. He told stories in a typically understated Australian way, like the time a crocodile jumped into the boat and the French tourists on board wouldn't even hold his dog so he could throw the croc back into the river. The stories were interesting and were interspersed with commentary about the local flora and fauna. Alas, the search for the big crocs was to prove fruitless and the best we could find was a 10 month old hatchling. It wasn't even big enough to make a decent belt, let alone a hand bag.

Somewhat disappointed and a little wet (we copped the spray in the front of the boat), we were dropped at the 'cable ferry' crossing. Back in the day we would have referred to it as a 'punt'. In the air conditioned comfort of the bus we made our way to Alexandra Lookout. The views speak for themselves.

It was time for another walk through a section of the rainforest. The difference this time is that it was private property. Apparently that corrupt, gerrymandering genius Joh Bjelke Peterson made a valiant attempt to sell the entire rainforest. This decision was overturned by UNESCO and the government was ordered to buy back all the land - but not everyone sold. Hence we ended up on private property on another wander through the scrub with Steve providing interesting details about various plants and animals. It was at this point that we began to realise news must be slow to reach Adelaide as every tidbit of information was greeted with a "wow" and the really interesting stuff brought the group to a standstill as details were recorded on her phone for later review. Wow.

Rain forest

We survived another walk through the forest where upon Adelaide remarked, "wow" and were driven to lunch. It was a BBQ with steak, fish, salad, fruit and damper. Very nice. One guess as to which of our tribe had dietary requirements? And people wonder why other Australians laugh at people from Adelaide. Wow.

After lunch it was time for a swim in the river that runs through the Noah Valley Rainforest. To get to the pool you needed to negotiate about 40 metres of bush track. There is a metal ladder to encourage safe access to the water. It was a shock to the system at first, but didn't take long to adjust. The water was crystal clear and there were plenty of fish. A refreshing detour amidst the humidity. Jayne decided that changing and getting dry in time for the next leg of the journey was too much effort. She got to mind the thongs.

Back in the bus, Adelaide was lamenting not being able to get changed. Steve assured her that she could change at Cape Tribulation. We arrived at the Cape, Adelaide was directed to the change rooms, the rest of us were shown the beach and the track to the lookout. Here we met the peppermint stick insect made famous by David Attenborough. It is an iridescent green colour and has the ability to spit a peppermint scented poison about a metre at predators. Apparently the poison can blind you. Steve, being the brave tour guide he was, gave a couple of copulating insects a rub. Nothing. Maybe the rub became a part of the motion. He tried again and was duly squirted on the finger with a sticky white substance. Nope. I have nothing to say. Nothing to see here people. Read on. It was just another friendly Australian animal trying to kill or maim. Safely bypassing the orgy of stick insects we walked to the look out and snapped a few photos and then headed for the beach.

On the beach, Sydney, Adelaide and Melbourne ended up together at one point with the sons of Adelaide, but no Adelaide. The groups broke up and drifted down the beach. We stopped to watch a sea eagle and a sea turtle, inhabiting different parts of the world of course and then began a slow walk to other end of Cape Tribulation beach. We didn't make it far before relay calls from Steve via Melbourne called us to a halt, we then called the other Sydney-siders back, and the brothers Adelaide were also reigned in. It then dawned on our intrepid guide that we were missing one of our number. And so the search began. Back to bus for the travellers, Steve ran to the look out and back to bus. No Adelaide. At this point, one of the Melburnians reminded Steve that, at the commencement of the day, he had said it was "OK to lose one person". Onto the bus, onto the main road, no Adelaide. Back to the car park. Steve was getting increasingly concerned that she may have taken a track up the mountain by mistake. You would have to be pretty stupid to do that, I thought. Um, wow.

Perhaps, I suggested, she may have walked down to the far end of the beach. The sons set out for the beach and Steve made for the track up the mountain. Thankfully he had not progressed very far when the sons found mother returning from a walk on the beach. Wow. We were fortunate.

Calm restored and back in the air conditioning, Steve drove us to the Daintree ice-cream place and regaled us with mythological stories of "Captain Cook". Wow, came the comment from the back of the bus. Following the details of how Cook died on a Hawaiian beach, Adelaide immediately asked, "So, how did he die?" The story was retold. Wow. Just wow. The ice cream was interesting. You can only buy a serve of all flavours on offer on the day. No choice. Today we had a scoop of passionfruit, coconut, wattle seed and soursop. I still don't know what soursop is but it didn't kill me. I wasn't there to hear what Adelaide thought of the ice cream, but I'll bet it was, "wow". That was her reaction when she discovered that was the only place on the world you could buy that ice cream. 

The return drive was reasonably quiet and uneventful. We hadn't see a croc of any note and a cassowary sighting proved equally elusive as we wound down the mountain side. The Melburnians were returned safely to the Sheraton and, despite the odds, we deposited all three Adelaidians at their hotel. Wow. It could have been a wipeout. Given the lady's name was Grace all I can say is: amazing (come on, think about it). Wow.

It was after 5:30pm when we arrived at the hotel, a long day in more ways than one. Time for a beer by the pool and an opportunity to relax without inane questions. Wow.

Ain't no sunshine (Port Douglas, Queensland)

It's all the way back to 1971 and Bill Withers for today's title. Google it kids, it's a classic.

There is, patient reader, only one draw back to having a room opening on to the beach on the east coast of Australia. Dawn. It happens at the most ungodly hour and the sunshine in the tropics has an intensity to rival that of the outback. So despite me closing the blinds the sun was determined to shine through any tiny gap it cold and flood the room with blinding light. And it was only just 6am - that's 5am if you're from Sydney. Well, that's how Jayne saw the day begin. I was sad to keep the sun out and happy that it found a way in. All of this puts lie to the song, "Ain't no sunshine when she's gone" because in my world there will be an abundance of sunshine until she returns and we revert to the darkness.

The Peninsula Boutique Hotel (http://www.peninsulahotel.com.au) aside from having super-friendly, super-helpful staff, also offers a full buffet breakfast as a part of the tariff. Nice. Breakfast is served by the pool. Very pleasant. The only negative so far is the internet. It is woefully slow. We are not talking Lord Howe Island speeds but we are getting down there. As a result there probably won't be a lot of pictures attached to the posts for this trip.

Without wishing to jinx myself, all the talk of bad weather has been off the mark. It was in the low 30s yesterday and the rain came overnight. On waking this morning, everything was dry again and today is looking like a copy of yesterday.

The view north from the half-way point.

In an effort to walk off breakfast and try to balance the calorie intake with exercise, we decided we would walk the new ANZAC track. It winds itself up and around the headland and deposits you at ANZAC Park which is at the other end of Macrossan Street from where we are staying. The track is still undergoing construction but is close to completion. The surface is good, there are enough seats to stop and rest in the humid conditions, although it could do with some more signage. There were a couple of paths that joined ours but there was nothing to note where they might lead or if we should deviate from our path to the alternate one. We paused a little too long at the half-way point and Jayne was almost carried away by a squadron of mosquitoes. Expert tip: wear insect repellant and sunscreen.

Random plant. Cool though, eh?

As we climbed the gentle incline towards the top of the headland, I mistakenly asked Jayne did she need any assistance. My concern was dismissed with an attempt at bravado. "I climbed the blue track." she puffed and didn't quite draw breath again before she corrected herself. "The red track. I climbed the red track." she panted. Should you have forgotten that epic journey dear reader it can be found here: http://bradnjaynesblog.blogspot.com/2017/07/we-may-never-pass-this-way-again-cinque.html.

The end of the walk

One can't underestimate the heat or the humidity at this stage of the day. It may have been before 10am but it was 31° and 65% humidity. Before we left, I had applied sunscreen, which I detest, and mixed with sweat, it had almost dissolved my face. Sweat wasn't trickling, as the polite circles say. It was running down my back and behind my ears. Sensible people had removed their shirts, but me, no way, I'm too proud to bare my body to the world. So instead I suffered the indignity of a T-shirt glued to my body.


 Once back in the main shopping precinct, we looked for a cafe to rehydrate and have a coffee. The first few were crowded so we ended up at Cafe Ecco which turned out to be a good choice. The coffee was OK but the freshly squeezed juices were wonderfully refreshing. If you are into new age experimentation, they also had ginger and celery and other weird combinations. Recharged, we meandered back to the apartment to watch the cricket for a while before heading the QT Hotel for the smorgasbord lunch. This requires a walk down the 4 Mile Beach which should have been renamed the 6.4 Kilometre beach once Australia went metric, but it doesn't have quite the same ring to it.

A fame tree, aflame against the blue sky

We sought advice on the best method to get to the QT, thinking we would just walk along the beach and take the path inland. The best advice was that this would not be a good thing because the pathway we needed to find to exit the beach wasn't obvious. So we opted for the less scenic wander through the side streets. The '20 minute walk' probably extended to 40 and it was hot and humid but not unpleasant thanks to the breeze. We arrived at the hotel and located the bar and ordered a couple of beers, purely to rehydrate. Our enquiry about the buffet lunch we had arrived for was met with blank looks. Dinner? the bar staff questioned. I settled down with my beer and checked fb. Oops. The recommendation was for dinner.

The QT was an interesting establishment. In no particular order, it contained groups of humans that I endeavour to avoid: unsupervised small children, overweight men clad only in board shorts and overly tattooed people of either gender (and sometimes they were also overweight men) - this is Australia and Port Douglas is also a haven for the Brits, so that locks up the world of tatts. Tasteful. Um, not really. It was an interesting sideline not to be repeated.

The view north to Port Douglas

Rehydrated we headed for the walkway to the beach and found it easily. It wasn't a path I would walk comfortably after dark, but in the mid afternoon it was fine. We walked north back to Port Douglas discussing lunch - the Surf Club was on our way home. It was a little crowded because it was nearing 2pm now. There was only one decision to make. Book for dinner, head home for another hydrating beer and then to the apartment for champagne and cricket. A perfect plan. Except for Melbourne's weather. The cricket was rained out. Undeterred, we enjoyed a beer on the terrace overlooking the beach before repairing upstairs to drink our champagne and then we retired to the balcony. I know, I know, dear reader, it's a tough life.

The Surf Club dinner was a disappointment for a number of reasons. We were regulars at the Noosa Surf Club when in Noosa and expected the same standard. I don't want to be totally down on them, but, really, everything was average. After discussion we believe it's a place to go for a casual lunch. Dinner? Not so much.

Tomorrow, we have a full on day trip, so there may not be a blog awaiting you at breakfast dear reader. In which case, until the next time ...

Port Douglas song

Yes dear reader we are back, albeit briefly, to document our sojourn to Port Douglas in Queensland. I understand that this is not the perfect time to visit that part of the tropics, it being cyclone season. However, with only a week or so off work, combined with last minute decision making, the options were not expansive. Anyway, the weather in Port Douglas should help us prepare for the languid torpor of Sydney in January-February.

As usual, our posts will be entitled after a song or utilise lyrics to represent our experiences. We have maintained this over a number of years, and despite being maligned by our eldest child for our choice of title (he thinks we are behind the times), there have been precious few repeats over the 226 posts to date. But I digress. Today's title Jayne discovered on Youtube. You can view it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vuedGCxpxzw and I recommend that you do for the purposes of cross-cultural understanding and multiculturalism. No doubt it will provide the 'performers' total number of views a nice fillip as well. If you are able to fathom the depth of its meaning, or can translate Russian, please get in touch.

The journey begins, as one would expect, in the Qantas Club lounge at Sydney airport. Qantas has not been a good friend of late so I am hoping that today's flight will be uneventful and not lead me to the 'customer care' page of their website. It's an interestingly titled page. An oxymoron perhaps? It is for customers but there is precious little care. Or at least that has been my most recent experience.

This is the first holiday in over ten years where I have left myself in the hands of a travel agent. The last time was 2003 and although that trip went reasonably (if we ignore the British Airways strike), I have not been back to an agent because I prefer to organise our itinerary and accommodation (read - I am a control freak [thank you darling wife]). This time due to poor time management, it was easier to leave the details to someone else.

The flight was uneventful. We left and arrived on time. There was no real turbulence and the landing was good. Our luggage were amongst the first bags through, we found our transfer people ... and they hadn't heard of us. No drama - they arranged for our transfer and a little over 90 minutes later we were standing in the foyer of the Peninsula Boutique Hotel sipping iced peach tea and discussing restaurants.

Who is that lurking in the shadows?

The apartment is wonderful: air conditioning and ceiling fans, a view of the beach filtered through the trees, king size bed and a bath that is larger than some pools I have seen, balcony with table and chairs, eating area, lounge and kitchenette. All this within a 5 minute walk of the main shopping precinct.

Bedroom and bathroom

Once the bags were unpacked, we headed into town to explore the shops and restaurants. In between fb messages of course which were providing us with our plan for the next week. Day 1 is not yet over but we have booked dinner tonight at 2 Fish, found a masseur, located the bottle shops and booked a full day Daintree - Cape Tribulation experience.

Walking down Macrossan Street, I wasn't sure what country we were in. It was a while before I heard an Australian accent. We did a bit of shopping and bought Jayne some summer frocks and tried to stay in the shade. I was getting peckish because I hadn't eaten since breakfast. A bakery espied in Grant Street, we redirected our path to buy a sausage roll. Now dear reader, Australia is known as the place of 'big things'. The big merino, pineapple, banana, potato, prawn, orange - the list goes forever. Port Douglas will forever be known to me as the place of the 'big sausage roll'. It was huge. About 20cm long and 5cm wide and just as high. It was mammoth, or perhaps made with mammoth. Quite tasty nonetheless. I would be lying if I said I ate the entire sausage roll; I was incapable of finishing it and Jayne gallantly came to my aid.

Post lunch holiday procedure when a walk has been involved? Do you recall, dear reader? Yes, that's correct, time for a hydrating beer, this time at the Court Hotel. This also allowed for a quick peak at the cricket. Depressing. Back into the sun and down to the marina and then back to Macrossan Street to compare prices at the three bottle shops. Now, it would be wrong of me to suggest collusion, so, let's call it coincidence that all three shops we surveyed had the two wines we wished to purchase for exactly the same price. Freight charges must be very uniform up here.

Back to apartment to enjoy an afternoon drink on the balcony prior to dinner. The breeze made the temperature feel acceptable and the humidity was no worse than Sydney has been for the last few weeks. We sat enjoying our wine watching a health enthusiast (body nazi) at the exercise spot in the park across the road. His abdomen had more ripples than the sand on an outgoing tide. He sweated, we enjoyed the setting sun and a glass of pinot gris. Mr Universe was soon joined by a female. After playing voyeur for a while, I was sure they didn't know each other and watched them compete for the most/fastest squats. Whatever. With no iPhone to swipe left he had to match her, squat for squat. Frequently she would move across the grass to the low fence and do squats facing Mr Universe. Agent provocateur. This was a pick up! Sadly for She-woman, Mr Universe was not interested and picked up his cap and sans shirt jogged his ripped abs into the distance, setting sun glinting on his sweat covered torso. Defeated, she left, a few squats later. Squats. Such a lowly sounding word, associated with defecation and poor living standards. Who would think it would come to be a pick up action? Albeit unsuccessful - smirk...

As time and tide rolled relentlessly on towards dinner we watched successive groups of people move in and out of the fitness park. Pretenders who stopped by for a few press-ups and moved on. Reminiscers, mostly drunk dads escorted away from the equipment by 20 something sons fearing for their dad's safety and the swift end to an enjoyable holiday. And kids, who like the billion lorikeets that inhabit the area swooped and rolled and tumbled over each other and the equipment in an orgy of movement, colour and squawking enjoyment.

Dinner was exceptional (thanks for the recommendation Craig). We couldn't recommend 2 Fish enough. We shared entrees, Malaysian prawns and calamari. Both served with a beautiful Asian salad and a sauce that didn't detract from the food. Light, fresh and tasty. For mains we had coral trout and Moreton bay bugs. Again, you couldn't ask for anything better. The service was great and the wine list contained the staples plus some interesting international numbers. So little time ...

Dessert you ask? Well yes, but, no, not at the restaurant. We wandered down the street to the gelati place. $10 well spent we walked home for a night cap on the balcony.

Until tomorrow ...