A life, a song (Hamilton Island)

The final title for our Hamilton Island holiday is from the Will Ferrell movie Anchorman. Read on my curious reader and all will become clear.

Fun fact: Occasionally we watched the news just in case something important was happening in the real world. Despite our best intentions we returned to Channel 9 Mackay news in preference to other offerings. Why? you ask my inquisitive reader. Well, they have the old dual-news reader format, split along gender lines of course. And a news reporter that sounds like he is calling a race no matter what story he is presenting. The best bit? The two anchors. It was like a scene form Anchorman. He sat there with this smug look on his face through the entirety of every broadcast. There were infrequent deadly looks exchanged - one at the beginning of one broadcast. It was such that the camera did not show them sitting together until the closing shot. Now I would have thought the point of two anchors was to show them sitting at the desk together. Not in Cairns.

Our last day commenced as so many others had with torrential rain overnight, a grey morning with intermittent showers. It made it a little easier to pack up ready for departure. We've enjoyed HI but I think the weather on day 1 set the scene for us and we certainly didn't explore the island to the extent we would have had the weather been more conducive to getting out and about.

Beach Club is excellent. The staff are very accommodating and attentive. The rooms are lovely, beach access is easy and the restaurant, although not cheap, delivers on all counts.

As the rain continued we sat in the lounge waiting for our departure time and enjoyed one last cocktail. I had a chocolate and orange mojito. Most refreshing. Jayne had a salted coconut espresso martini.


The flight back was uneventful, although a little bumpy at times. The departure lounge was somewhat down-market and once again resembled a school playground or a waiting room at a children's hospital.

While we enjoyed HI we probably wouldn't return. There wasn't enough there to bring us back although we certainly didn't push the boundaries beyond rest and relaxation. As I mentioned, I don't think the weather helped.

The search for the perfect island holiday continues - aside from Lord Howe, that is perfection. To date we have visited:

• Cook Islands, Rarotonga - the six hour flight time is probably the only negative. The people are gorgeous and friendly. Snorkelling straight off the beach and there are plenty of other activities. Multiple food options at varying price points. Total relaxation. We'd go back.
• Fitzroy Island - just off Cairns. A little too close for hoards of day trippers. Snorkelling off the beach is a plus. Reasonable bush walking. Limited food options. Either pub food or expensive restaurant.
• Heron Island - off the grid. Excellent. Our package included breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was like being force fed. If the weather is poor there are few options for anything other than drinking, eating and reading. And that wears thin after a while.
• Great Keppel - in it's second iteration post 'get wrecked'. Limited food options and the accommodation was showing its age. Otherwise it was a winner, good beaches and plenty to do.
• North Stradbroke - camping. With children - some of whom got sick. Not to mention the sandflies ... Enough said.

Until August and the Darwin to Broome cruise. Stay safe.

Why does it always rain on me? (Hamilton Island)

We didn't expect this after the rain

It would appear that yesterday's beautiful weather was an aberration. Last night was a series of torrential rain squalls that were preceded by strong wind. And so began today until the island to our north was totally obliterated by low cloud and rain. Then as suddenly as it blew in, dear reader, it disappeared and the sun returned. The weather changes more quickly than we change Prime Minister. Which of course allowed us to maintain our pattern. Breakfast, a walk on the beach, back to the unit to plan the remainder of the day.

Today is our last full day here; tomorrow we are out at 10 and on the plane back to Sydney at 1:30pm. As a result of that full stop in our week we had already planned out today. I have a massage at 11:30 following which we will walk into the marina and sample a pie from Bob's Bakery. The afternoon will be spent sipping champagne and falling asleep on the verandah, being lulled by the waves and rustle of the palms. Dinner is pizza, delivered to our door. We have given up trying to get dinner reservations. That is the plan anyway, so we'll see how it goes.


First to the spa for my massage. It had the usual beginning. Welcome, come in, please complete this waiver that says in the event we kill you it's not our fault. The room is comfortable, an Ecoya candle burns in the corner giving of vanilla fragrance. The lighting is muted, there is relaxation-therapy music playing quietly in the background. It's easy to sink back into the chair and think you are being transported to a better place.

Now I wouldn't say the peace was shattered, not immediately, but everyone in the waiting room slowly became aware of something discordant, something that didn't fit. Two pre-teens were sitting on the steps of the spa, just outside the door, with their father. It was the bickering that first attracted our attention. Then they started whacking the steps with some plastic blow up toy and the magic serene feeling was replaced with tension. The tension we were all there to alleviate. Clearly their mother was on the other side of the spa rooms enjoying the last of her massage.

Dad was taking no interest in his miscreant off-spring until one clobbered the other with aforementioned plastic toy. Threats were issued, as hollow as a Scott Morrison promise. Nothing happened. The children became louder until tears from the girl-child resulted in forcible separation. She then turned her attention to the fountain.  Inaudible statement form father. Girl stares defiantly. Another statement from father as she calmly reaches forward and puts her hand in the water. Too late, Dad was on her before she saw him move and as she tried to run his vice like grip tightened on her arm as he uttered the age old line, "What part of no don't you understand?" Simultaneously drawing her to within cms of his mouth he whispered further threats through clenched teeth directly into her ear. There followed a few minutes of quiet before the Balkans erupted into war again. I was then called to the massage room. Poor woman, thought I, she will be emerging from inner nirvana into a maelstrom. I hope the massage was good because it's effects won't last long.

The Hobies were out for the first time

An hour later I floated from the massage room and returned to the unit to collect Jayne before our walk into the marina and Bob's Bakery. Up the hill and down the other side and along the waterfront, being mindful of the dodgem cars. Alright my astute reader, they are golf buggies, they are just driven like dodgem cars. In an unrelated observation, Jayne says that most of them are driven by women with the male as passenger. No further comment your honour.

The pies at the bakery are recommended. Not in the class of a Willis pie, but still very good.  The super large sausage rolls didn't rate. Too much carrot. We had lunch on the waterfront, enjoying a moment of sunshine. We punctuated the walk home by stopping for an ice cream at Ned Kelly's. No, that's not really the name of the store, but the prices they charge are highway robbery, $7.90 for a waffle cone with a sloppy single scoop of ice cream. The two ice creams cost more than lunch at Bob's!

The islands were not visible through the rain this morning

We were a little hot and bothered by the time we returned home and opted for a swim while the sun was still shining. While we were floating around in the Coral Sea, the weather did its thing and the island across the channel disappeared in rain and cloud. Time to make our way to the pool to rinse off the salt and the rest on the balcony and watch the rain that was surely coming. In other words, it's champagne time. The afternoon melted into evening as the showers came and went. We were serenaded by sulphur crest cockatoos and crows - such musical, lyrical sounds.

As relaxing moment dissolved into relaxing moment Jayne decided it was time to increase her heart rate by ordering dinner online. Forms are always a challenge, online ordering systems are an art akin to the highest levels of torture. It was a close run thing - the ordering process commenced at 4pm and the shop closed at 9:30pm, but she was successful. Order locked and loaded, red wine at the ready. It was probably time to contemplate one last lap of the beach. Too late, it's raining again, which brings us to today's title from 1999 by Travis.

And that is just about it from HI. There will be one more post sometime during the week to wrap everything up and share some final reflections. Otherwise, the next major event is August: Darwin to Broome on a cruise - yes I know dear reader, who'd have thought it? Me on a cruise? We shall see.

Until then ...

Sunny afternoon (Hamilton Island)

More rain overnight but the morning arrived with decreasing cloud, warmer temperatures and light breeze. Today promised more than any of the preceding days. Island paradise at last. Which inspired today's title. Yes my encyclopaedic reader it is another Kinks song, but I'm trying to inspire the younger generation to expand their music repertoire. They were such a great band and a part of the British rock invasion of the 60s.

The day commenced as it should with breakfast delivered to our room, but I said I would commence this blog with a review of dinner. Happy Easter my dear reader I hope the Easter Bunny was kind to you ... if that's your thing of course.

The Yacht Club from across the marina

Bommie is the up-market restaurant in the Hamilton Island Yacht Club. As I made mention yesterday it has a strict dress code. Well, no thongs, singlets or board shorts. I've never been a fan of dress codes so I wore a singlet, albeit under my shirt. The rules seem specifically aimed at men. Certainly there were men in trousers - previously the only trousers I'd seen were on staff in various establishments. It is a resort in the tropics after all. What makes a daggy pair of canvas shoes more acceptable than a pair of thongs? Why is it that a pair of thongs not made of rubber, aka women's sandals, are acceptable? There were some interesting outfits on show that passed muster to get through the door. The shortest pair of faded, ragged denim shorts I've ever seen. Tennis shoes - they still exist apparently. Some outfits were not able to be critiqued because the ladies in question had obviously been caught short without a cardie (unlike Jayne) and were rugged up in bright red blankets supplied by the restaurant. Seemed a bit OTT as the dining room was not al fresco.

The restaurant itself is all dark timber and mood lighting with expansive views over the water. The tables are enormous triangular pieces that are way too big for two people. This arrangement, however, means you are well separated from other diners and do not have to yell to be heard. You may think that means you cannot hear the other diners' conversations, but the couple to our left were engaged in an animated discussion, regularly punctuated by expletives and absences from the table in between courses. And they were smokers. That's allowed, but no thongs. It is still legal, although snorting cocaine is not. This, I discovered in the toilets, didn't appear to worry the middle-aged (OK he was younger than me) guy from another nearby table. But again, no thongs, so it was OK.

Our waitress was lovely and decidedly nervous and moved through the learned-by-heart patter as if she was reciting her mother's death notice in public for the first time. The 8 course degustation was served with matching wines and there were some interesting choices. A pinot noir with the bitter chocolate dessert. I get the reasoning, but it just didn't work. You got the feeling they were trying just a little bit too hard when compared with the simplicity of the fare at Beach Club. The latter was the winner in my humble opinion.

Nice view from IGA

Back to today. What a stunner as far as the weather goes. Sunshine. A bit of fast moving cloud. No rain. I repeat, no rain. That was a first. Despite the unusual weather pattern, we followed our routine. Breakfast followed by activity, but today the activity included a swim. Well, a wade and a float. There are some serious obstacles beneath the surface of the water. Had we not wandered the shore at low tide we would have been unaware of the rocks that lurk beneath the blue-green water.




Interestingly, there is a shelf of conglomerate that sits just below the high tide line. There is also a significant amount of rock and pebble that gets moved around by the dominant current. Beyond this, there are rocks encrusted with razor sharp oyster shells. The water is too clouded for snorkelling and I certainly wouldn't wade in there without reef shoes. The colour of the water reminds me of a glacial lake. As you know my scientific reader, that colour is made up of rock particles that have been ground up by the passage of the glacier. Given the lack of visibility in this water, is it also dense with fine particles of ground rock?

Lunch time view

Enough thinking, it is holiday time. Wearing our reef shoes, we made access and egress from the water look easy by comparison to some other visitors to the island. They walked, they hesitated, they stepped forward, they danced back, they moved sideways, they slipped, they fell, but they made their way into the water. We walked in and walked out.

While we were waiting to dry off a little two tweenies and their gravelled-voiced mother arrived from further down the beach. Mother looked around, read the "Beach Club visitors only" sign and sat down on a day bed in the shade. The girls then made use of one of the hammocks. They did NOT belong here dear reader. They were children under the age of 18 and were therefore NOT staying at our adults ONLY resort. Sadly the lights and sirens I had hoped for did not eventuate, nor did armed guards rise up from the sand and gun them down. In fact, nothing happened at all and after a few minutes the tweenies became bored and departed with mum in tow.

After drying off  and seeing the interlopers off our property we strolled to the eastern end of the beach and back again and thence to the resort pool to wash off the salt.

After all that exercise it was time for lunch. Not such an easy choice. This is HI - the island of restaurants that DO NOT do lunch. We are SERIOUS restaurants, we ONLY do dinner. Well, we are on holidays and like to be lazy and enjoy a long lunch, so, you won't be enjoying our cash.

From the deck at Manta Ray

We walked into Restaurant Manta Ray. I know, more exercise. And scored a table on the water. Unlike our favourite restaurant at Amoudie Bay on What-is-this-WHS-you-speak-of?-Santorini where a painted white line was all that stopped us from tipping off our chairs into the water, a sturdy railed fence lined the restaurant deck to keep tipsy patrons from  coming to grief on the rocks below.

Not long after the place was packed and people were waiting for water-view tables. It is an Italian-style restaurant, not pretentious, with quick turn-over, if desired, or a long lunch if that is what you are after. We ordered sourdough and tiger prawns to begin and enjoyed them them with a bottle of Yarra Valley chardy. Could we have a break between courses? Of course, let me know when you want the mains started ... how cool is that?



The sourdough, oil and roasted garlic was lovely and the prawns and pesto were very tasty. We sat and chatted and watched the planes landing and the boats bobbing in their moorings. As the tide receded it revealed crabs on the rocks and some large fish swimming past as lazily as we were eating lunch. Then we asked for the mains, which were delivered promptly, linguine with prawns and chilli. Just yum. Paired nicely with a bottle of rosé from Adelaide Hills. The service, the view, the food; everything was first class and all within view of the ostentatious yacht club. We could have eaten here all week for what we spent on dinner last night. And I was wearing thongs!

Back to the Beach Club for a siesta, some reading, some blogging, some champagne and the slow holiday drift from late afternoon into evening.

Until tomorrow.

If I can muster the energy.

Bombora (Hamilton Island)

Welcome to day three my dear reader. All the photos in this post were taken yesterday in the intermittent afternoon sun. It gave old Hammo an opportunity to show herself off a bit.

Looking down the hill at the marina

The pattern was set yesterday and we are adhering to it, at least for today. The Stone Curlews returned around dawn to serenade us. Oh, you don't know what a Stone Curlew sounds like my inquiring reader? Click here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qi1GX_VRaM0 I'm sure that will rectify the deficit in your knowledge of this Australian bird.

There was rain overnight, but today is proving the best to date. We had our breakfast in our room watching the fast moving clouds, occasional shower and the build up of people on the beach. 

Easter, it would appear, is not the time to travel to Hamilton Island. The weather is not ideal, well at least at this time, and it is very, very crowded. Perhaps the confluence of Easter and the Queensland school holidays has facilitated this, but all I know is that every restaurant we have tried to book has had nothing available. Or if they did it was at 8:30pm or later. As I am sure you realise my dedicated reader, I am turning 60 later this year and 8:30pm is my bed time - far too late to be entertaining dinner. Anyway eating that late will give you nightmares. We did have two restaurants organised for dinner, the Beach Club on our first night and Bommie tonight. (Hence today's title, Bombora by The Atlantics, a classic surf song from the '60s). Both were booked from Sydney two weeks ago. I'm supposed to be on a relaxing holiday - who thinks about booking dinner two weeks in advance?

When the tide goes out, it really goes out.

But I digress. Breakfast was lovely. We then continued in relaxation mode on the verandah - reading. Time for some activity. We walked the beach, thankfully the tide was at mid-point so there was plenty of sand. The crowds seemed a little smaller than yesterday, either that or the hordes of marauding, noisy children were amusing themselves with activities away from the beach. A wander into town supported the theory the children were not around. If it was the Pied Piper, I would happily pay the fee.

After calculating the wardrobe requirements for the remainder of our time, it became apparent I would be one shirt shy if we jagged a lunch or dinner reservation at the Golf Club or the like. Resort casual means a collar. Why not go all the way and insist on a tie as well. The fashion police are alive and well. A shopping expedition was incorporated into our morning walk and I am now the owner of a new Oakley shirt.

Glad I bought my reef shoes

Back at the resort, it's time to read on the verandah and contemplate the most serious problem for the day. What time to open the champagne? We have dinner at 6:30 tonight so the bubbles need to be moved forward.

Lunch is champagne and a charcuterie plate on the verandah, listening to the waves, background noise from the beach and rustling palms fronds as they sway in the breeze. If I close my eyes and ignore the sound of the palms I am transported back to my teenage years lying on Elouera or North Wollongong Beach being lulled to sleep by the waves, drowsing in and out of consciousness, thinking about life changing issues, like girls and sex and when I'll go and get some chips and a can of Passiona, the sun baking me brown. The only thing missing is the smell of coconut oil and the crackle of the loud speaker playing Crocodile Rock by Elton John. Ah the good old days. If I'd known then what I know now, I'd have been sitting in the shade under the kiosk verandah, covered with a towel avoiding the skin cancers I have cultivated so carefully over my lifetime.

The charcuterie plate was delightful; prosciutto, salami, grilled zucchini, eggplant, pickled onions, greens, sour dough and sun dried tomato relish. The champagne of course, was the highlight. The rain came and left again. The sun has returned and the tide is still slowly ebbing away. Perhaps time for a siesta before the next round of activity.

Skippy having an afternoon feed

Siesta time was interrupted by tonight's favoured restaurant calling to confirm our booking. Our 6:30 reservation is now 7:15 and ... you are aware, it is the degustation sir? ... yes, that's fine ... and of course we have a dress code: no thongs, no beach wear and no singlets ... of course, do you mind if I go commando? ... and one more thing sir, purred the British accent, only people carrying Queensland passports or photographs of Joh Bjelke-Petersen or Clive Palmer are welcome. Long live the the right wing and white shoe brigade! I'm not really sure why I'm dining here, it really doesn't suit me. The last restaurant to question me about a dress code missed out on my dollars. Yes, I do have a jacket and no I'm not wearing to suit you (see what I did there?) - that was Dallas, Texas. The dining post-mortem will be posted tomorrow.

Until then.

It was so then, still not sure about the high rise.

The Tide is High (Hamilton Island)

Day one ended with a beautiful 5 course degustation dinner, with matching wines, at the Beach Club restaurant. The Malaysian curry and the beef were the standout dishes. The surprise of the night was a locally made limoncello, based on vodka. Extra smooth and seductive, it's the sort of thing you could sip all night. Although you might find it difficult walking back to your room.

Looking back at the resort from a sodden beach

Looking east

The intermittent rain continued through the night, varying from torrential to drizzle. At times it drowned out the sound of the waves. The morning dawned to reveal the same sort of day as yesterday. Rain showers of varying intensity interspersed by sunshine. It hasn't deterred people from getting out and about but I'm watching the next wave of rain quietly displacing the sun and it will have a significant impact. Looks like the early part of the day will be spent blogging and reading. 

Although we didn't get active until 7:30 the birds made their presence felt at sunrise. We have plantation shutters that allow the breeze to come into the room as well as the rhythmic lull of the waves. Bird song can not be excluded. It wasn't quite musical but it didn't force me out of bed either.

We opted to breakfast in our room. It arrived right on time and was much larger than either of us anticipated. Pastries, fresh fruit, yoghurt, granola, toast and of course, eggs for Jayne. The rain was back and we sat around being lulled by the waves crashing on the shore. There were plenty of people about on boards and kayaks. The rain eased and we decided to explore Catseye Beach. We had walked maybe 20 metres when the rain forced us to abort and seek shelter by the infinity pool.

Not a bad place to shelter from the rain

The next attempt was much more successful and we walked to the eastern end of the beach. The tide was high, hence today's title, aclassic from Blondie.  Then back to the western end where the Resort Centre and three million children are located. There are a number of shops, food outlets and a tour booking service. Most of the tours require good weather, it would appear from the weather forecast that we will be ducking in and out of the rain all week, so we probably won't be heading out to the reef or sailing at sunset.

The Resort Centre was overrun with children. It was like walking through a primary school playground. It made me shudder. Time to seek the solace of our unit and plan the next activity.

Fun fact: No swimming pool on Hamilton Island is fenced, nor are they supervised. In a curious nod to the past, parents are expected to supervise their own children closely. Who'd have thought? It would be an interesting exercise to compare the drowning statistics against an area where pools are supposed to be fenced. I have long believed that pool fences encourage a false sense of security and even an abrogation of responsibility.

Looking west

With a break in the weather we decided it was time to chance our luck and walk to the marina for lunch. Fish and chips from Popeye's we were seeking but were almost side tracked by the options at Manta Ray. Had they offered simple fish and chips they would have won because they were licensed. Under arcane licensing laws alcohol can only be served with meals on Good Friday and Popeye's is just a take-away. Bravely resisting the temptation of the demon drink we walked on. The fish and chips were well cooked, simple and cheap. Fresh reef fish, yum.

It would be spectacular in the sunshine.

Back at the resort we realised that there would be no lunch time cocktail. The bottle shop was closed. Thankfully the law didn't extend to emptying our bar fridge. We have ample supplies of champagne and wine to make it through until tomorrow.

The afternoon cleared to blue skies with the very occasional light showers as the tide receded. The tides are huge and even with 3 hours to go before low tide you are able to walk a long way across the sand flats. Afternoon exercise completed, 10K steps achieved, it was champagne time. We whiled away the hours fending off birds who wanted to share our food and watching a young wallaby tucking into the fresh green grass that separates us from the waterfront. It's a tough life.

Until tomorrow.

I'm on an Island (Hamilton Island)

Today's title is a retrospective nod to that great British band the Kinks. Do some research you millennials, they were excellent.

It seems such long time since the Cook Islands my dear reader, although it was only three months ago. This feeling has no doubt been exacerbated by work. The changes have been as difficult to deal with as the right wing of the federal Liberal Party, and as much fun. Although I have landed in a good place with good people. However, following the removal of the king I contemplated moving my life to Syria, as that at least would provide some comparative stability, but no my astute reader, that is not where I am heading. A short break in Hamilton Island should restore my wellness index.

Thank you internet for this image

Despite having travelled to many islands off the coast of Queensland, Hamilton, until now has eluded us. Too many friends have suggested we should put it on our travel itinerary and so we have. All the essentials are packed, our bags have been checked, I was tested for explosives and failed. Now that test is one from which you don't want a positive result. And now I sit people watching in the Qantas Lounge, nursing my carry-on bag which contains not one, not three, but five bottles of 2008 vintage Drappier champagne. Excessive you say. No, I respectfully disagree. I had intended on taking only three bottles but was advised to take one bottle for each day. Sound advice from a seasoned traveller. Who was I to disagree?

There is the usual eclectic crowd wandering the lounge. Suits, jeans, tattooed middle aged women, running shoes, the occasional person clothed as if they dressed after an explosion at Vinnies, (think '70s maths teachers), but NO thongs - this is Qantas. There is also at least one screaming child, who, no doubt, will be seated behind me on the plane. Thankfully our accommodation at the Beach Club is adults only. We have done our time in family friendly places, and anyway, we are no longer friendly.

I have seen many unusual sights in airport lounges and today contributes another. A man has just arrived in shorts and T-shirt with a camera on a very large tripod. He set the camera up and is taking shots of the food station. Interesting.

Alas, the screaming child has departed the lounge and will not be seated near me on the plane. Despair not my sensitive reader, another screaming child has replaced the previous one. And so it goes. The plane was dominated by children, who thankfully, were well behaved and subdued once we gained altitude.

In another example of first world problems, the snack on the plane was a choice of quiche or corn frittata. Really? Way too much egg action for my taste buds. I believe every egg should have the right to become a chicken.

The view from the verandah

First impressions of the island are favourable. The Beach Club looks great, we were welcomed with a glass of champagne - clearly they identified my weakness. We are on the ground floor with direct access to Catseye Beach, although initially the rain kept us in our unit.

The rain soon disappeared and the sun returned so we ventured down to the lounge for a cocktail and food. Jayne had a French Colada and I had the Spritz to go with some delectable squid and rosemary salt chips. Very nice. The sun also lured people to return to the infinity pool. It's heated so it's swimmable no matter what time of year you visit.

Then it was time to explore our end of the island. The walk to the Marina and the hub of activity was less than a kilometre, although there was a rather steep hill to negotiate. We have dinner reservations already for this evening so it was really a case of seeing what else was there. There is choice a plenty from the world-food pizza to Italian, seafood and even Mexican. And there is a variety of price points too.

The island boasts "no cars" in a similar way to Lord Howe Island boasting "very few cars". Hamilton may have less cars than LHI but the proliferation of golf buggies creates traffic chaos. This is made worse by the footpath constantly disappearing and re-appearing on the opposite side of the road. 4pm at the wharf was obviously peak hour. There were buggies and the island shuttle buses everywhere.

The natives appear friendly

Exercise over, it was time to resume the relaxing holiday pose and we repaired to our unit for champagne on the verandah in preparation for dinner.

We were warned not to leave the doors open when we go out. It may well be an obvious and sensible security precaution, but we were told it was to stop the cockatoos coming in and ransacking the room. They looked friendly enough when marauding hordes of them descended upon us, clearly in the hope of getting fed...  We will be closing the doors religiously whenever we are not around to guard the perimeter.

I was just about to upload a couple of photos when I discovered the attachment I need is safely back in Redfern. Nice work Apple, let's keep changing the plug-ins so people have to buy more attachments. No point using the camera for blog pictures, they will all be taken on the iPhone.

Until tomorrow ...