An Australian Trip

April, 2019

No, I did not make a pilgrimage to the spot in Queensland where Owsley Stanley perished…though I’d intended to, but I kind of spaced it. Rather, my Wife and I made a long-anticipated trip Down Under to visit some friends who we met here in Minnesota back in 2001. A selection of photos, commentary, and links follows. (Trigger Warning: this may get verbose!)

Fresh off the Boat

When traveling across multiple time zones, a rule that should not be broken is to get one’s self on the local diurnal schedule. If it’s night when you get there, go to bed. If it’s day, get out and walk around. If you’re wiser than me, avoid caffeine and alcohol. But what the hell, you’ve only got so much time to enjoy long blacks and draught Coopers. (Though I never had the good fortune of finding a pub that had the Sparkling Ale on tap; maybe it only exists in bottles–I dunno.)

OK, so maybe we’re not so fresh. Oh, and we flew (Virgin Australia–four thumbs up). Date was March 15, 2019. Should have wiped the selfie lens.
From the top of the west side of the north pier of the Sydney Harbor Bridge. Great place to be if you’re not up for the full bridge climb. There’s a great little museum here; a bargain at twice the price.
A view of downtown (?) Sydney. Again, from the west side of the north pier. Look at the size of that effin’ cruise ship! At about 1 o’clock off its bow is a nifty art museum with a nice little cafe on the third floor with a lovely terrace where there SHOULD have been a gorgeous view of the harbour. The experience helped me to gain some empathy for the residents of Venezia.
Greetings From The Royal Botanic Gardens, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. (Wish you were here on this lovely day with the temperature an unseasonable 83F.)

Saturday. Thank God we’ve got the day off.

So, we hit the beach first thing in the morning. I’m fairly certain it was Maroubra, but my phone decided not to save any of the photos I took that morning, so there goes that crutch. Our Aussie pal was body surfing; my Wife (normally an ardent ocean swimmer) and I were content to stand waist deep in the surf and regain our balance every time the outgoing waves washed the sand away from under our feet. It felt fantastic after a long Minnesota winter.

A large-ish, typical Sydney house. Wish I was sitting on the porch there and enjoying a nice martini or two while reading the papers.

After lunch, it was time to hit the Ale Trail. We didn’t get to all of them on Saturday or during our stay, but that’s OK. It just gives us another reason to go back.

Getting photobombed at Sauce, Marrickville, NSW.
We were judicious in our consumption. Nonetheless, we got photobombed by a really attractive Aussie couple at Sauce. This brewpub has a nice range of very well-made beers. Since I wasn’t driving, I got into a few of the high-test products…which is why I’m a little foggy on the details.

Sunday, really taking the day off.

Seriously. We hung around our hosts’ house and chatted. Hadn’t seen ’em since this past December (2018), and not for too much time at that. So, lot’s of catching up to do.

If it’s Monday, it must be Cairns.

We flew north to Queensland (as if the time shift from the American Midwest wasn’t already enough, Queensland’s an hour off NSW at this time of year…in which direction, I don’t remember). One alights the plane and immediately realizes one is pretty damn well in the tropics, if not deep into it. I could hear my skin soaking up the moisture.

From the window of the van taking us from the Cairns airport to Port Douglas. That crop there is sugar cane. And there’s a bicycle crossing sign, and those jagged things in the background are mountains, and that white fluffy stuff in the sky…

Port Douglas is, in my opinion, a really nice small tropical town on the water and I’ll go back any time my travelling companion wants to. (About 300 miles as the very adventurous black-throated finch flies, or 547 miles by car, from Lockhart River–remember this for later.) Unfortunately, a bunch of the photos I thought I took didn’t end up on the camera roll. But, trust me, it’s a homey place: the worst restaurant we ate at was very competent, the best was, like Wow! man; the pubs were nice; the shopping appeared good too, though that’s not really my bag. We stayed at the Port Douglas Retreat, where I’d gladly stay again; clean, comfy, modern rooms, decently equipped kitchen, and the folks that run it were, truly, fantastic.

A view of the pool from our room at the Port Douglas Retreat. It looks a bit wet out there…

So, we arrived on Monday, March 18th, 2019. If you read up on the area before your trip, you’ll find that there’s a wet season, or, as the locals call it, “The Wet.” Being from the Midwestern USA, our attitude was somewhat skeptical. I can assure you that The Wet is, indeed, just that.

We had traveled up this way, in large part, because it’s a good launching spot for getting out to The Great Barrier Reef. However, by the time we arrived we were aware that Cyclone Trevor was moving east to west across northern Queensland. At this point in time we were fair certain that Trevor would scotch our Reef plans. However, Australians are the sunniest of optimists one will encounter anywhere in one’s travels, and so, after assuring us that the weather out on The Reef would be splendid, and at our request, our hosts at the Port Douglas Retreat arranged for us to be on a snorkeling excursion to The Reef the next morning.

Tuesday, March 19. Will I live to tell this tale?

So, on Tuesday morning, March 19, we awoke around 0600, and checked the weather…in Port Douglas the rain was coming down in buckets and the wind was briskly gusty, or maybe it was gustily brisk–far more grim than it had been the day before. At any rate, the first thought on my mind wasn’t to hop on a boat for a ride out to the open ocean. Around 0730 I rang up the folks at Wavelength Reef Cruises to verify that they really would be sailing at 0830 as scheduled. A very cheery voice assured me that not only would the boat launch, but after what might be a bit of a rough ride, The Reef would be spectacular.

(OK, so, like here, if you haven’t figured it out yet, you’re in the middle of the verbose part…if you want, just skip ahead and look at the pictures.)

A radar image from the Australian Broadcasting Corporation at 1:26 A.M, March 19, 2019 local time overlaid on a Google map showing the driving route from Port Douglas to Lockhart River. (Remember those distances from above?)

We arrived at the dock at the appointed time, signed some liability releases or such, and boarded the boat. Prior to leaving the Port Douglas Retreat, my Wife had taken over-the-counter anti-nausea pills (a.k.a. motion sickness pills, a.k.a. seasick pills); I, as a descendant of non-seafaring folk, though with a generally tough-as-nails gut and a serious bit of over-confidence, did not. Once all of the day’s passengers had boarded, the boat’s crew issued a suggestion that all aboard should take one or two seasick pills. They then gave an overview of what the day’s schedule would be, instructed us passengers in emergency procedures, and suggested again that everyone on board consume one or two seasick pills. Then the skipper came below to greet the passengers, inform us that the ride out to The Reef would be very rough (though once we’d gotten out there, the conditions would be splendid), and “plead with you all” (us passengers) to take one or two seasick pills because he (the skipper) and the entire crew had. (Hey mate, its gonna be a rough ride out, but it’ll be spectacular once we’re out there.)

Well, no shit Sherlock! Trevor had created a storm surge–small, but nonetheless, a surge–in Port Douglas, the tide was peaking but going out (I don’t know about anywhere else on earth, but we were told that at Port Douglas this contributes to rough water) and then, don’t forget, there was the gustily brisk wind. As the boat left port and picked up speed, I was very happy that I had heeded the skipper’s pleas to consume the pills; they worked on me as intended. Nonetheless, I had a very hard time suppressing the urge to sing the theme song to “Gilligan’s Island”; the ride out was, literally, bone-jarring. We were told that at the end of the day, the ride back in to port would be orders of magnitude calmer, and it was.

About 1/3 of the way out. This photo was taken by one of the Wavelength crew. This photo does not do justice to the severity of the seas that day.

And, in the end, all the Aussies were correct: once we got out to The Reef, the weather was clement and the experience was gorgeous. In fact, it was one of the few times in my life that I’ve thought life on a boat in the middle of “nowhere” could be preferable to any alternative.

My travelling companion, in her stinger suit, back aboard after the second stop of the day (-16.28158, 145.76763).
Yes, oh yes, you could just leave me here…well, so long as I could whisk myself back to land when the inevitable inclement seas and weather arise.

The photos below were taken by one or more crew member(s) of the Wavelength Reef Cruises boat that we were on. I’m only posting sea creatures I saw; there are many more out there to be seen.


Floating in a friendly sea, knowing the vastness of the surface and the extent of the depths, is an awe-inducing experience. For a guy who’s only ever gone floating in lakes, rivers, or creeks, it’s a bit of a panic inducing one too.
The same giant clam close up at 90 degree intervals.
Coral of some sort I think.
Nemo!
And that’s probably enough. This one could be a wrasse.

We purchased the day’s photos from the Wavelength crew. In reviewing them and seeing the various sea creatures again, I still am awed. But to have been there and seen them in the panorama of their environments…ah, well the memory still has dream-like qualities.

Wednesday, March 20. Sometimes, the weather changes your plans.

Wednesday the plan was to visit Mossman Gorge, and take a guided walking tour in the Daintree rainforest, a World Heritage Site; it’s the oldest continuous rain forest on the planet. Unfortunately, the tours were closed that day due to high water in the gorge. So instead we decided to spend a few hours at Wildlife Habitat, which is a private zoo just south of Port Douglas. Now, I’ll go on record as not being a fan of zoos. However, I really liked this place. In the first place, these are all native Australian creatures in residence here. Getting right up close to wallabies and kangaroos was very cool. So was seeing the crocodile feeding–that one’ll make you think twice about being alone with the love of your life on a deserted beach. Also, the walk-through room where they keep the smaller bird species was a treat, if for no other reason than to see a bunch of Gouldian Finches, a bird I’d long thought had been made up by a tripped-out creative at the ad agency for Viewsonic (seriously, take a look at the logo). If you’re ever going to get as good a look at these fauna in the wild, you’re going to need a great deal of patience and a bit of good luck. In sum, they do a great job trying to educate the patrons about the Australian critters in their care and they, as do so many zoos around the globe, engage in programs designed to preserve these animals for future generations. So, here are the photos. Wish I had more, but my phone/camera was having issues.

This one, we were told, is a small female. She’s about 8′ (2.4m) from nose to tail. I’m kind of relieved that my camera decided to delete the photos of the male. Still gives me the creeps thinking about it; he was well over 14′.
A far less lethal creature: the Australian pelican. A bit larger than the white pelicans and quite larger than the brown pelicans, both of which we see in North America.

Thursday, March 21–Let’s Pack Off to Cairns

We were going to drive down dark and early on Friday morning, but given the weather (did I mention the tropical rain?) and my novice status as a driver in a left-side country we both thought it would be prudent to head south while the sun was shining.

So, we checked in to the Mid City Luxury Suites around noon–where the guy at the desk was, in typical Australian fashion, extremely friendly and helpful–and arranged for a four-wheel-drive tour up to Kuranda in the rainforest. The operator was a local outfit, Discovery Tours Australia, and our driver was Steve. This tour was worth every penny…Australian or American. Photos below.

This is a view from a lookout spot, heading up to Kuranda (here’s a different take on Kuranda) from Cairns. I’m often amazed when visiting mountainous areas, by the seemingly un-navigable routes to the residences that the locals occupy. I guess it’s all about the view.
There were lots of closeups of stuff in the rainforest that would’ve looked to you like just some interesting patterns in shades of brown and green. This, on the other hand, this is some of nature’s most awesome power.
I’m thinking the GPS was a little bit off. I’m also thinking that if one went trekking in the wrong area of the world without a topographical map, one could get into a serious world of shit. Again, it’s just a guess, but I think that foamy falls above was Barron Falls.
And then, before you know it (if you’re in a motorized vehicle), you’re out of the rainforest and into a savanna that I would imagine is the Outback (well, maybe just over that mountain?).
On the way back down to Cairns, we stopped for tea on the edge of the Dinden State Forest. Great waterfalls (probably only during The Wet), and if you have time, you could park a chair at the right times of day and see loads of birds you’ve never seen in North America or Europe. Plus, I’m fairly certain there are no crocodiles up here…not so sure about the snakes …or the snakes…though.

Friday, March 22–on the Spirit of Queensland

Camera issues…not a single photo. Pro Tip: if you really want to make sure you have photos to look at later, tote a CAMERA! Yes, the smartphones can make some great images in the hands of someone with a good eye and a steady hand. However, they are phones, and as such, their firmware is being probed by all sorts of actors, which can cause interesting mal- and non-functions. And sometimes, even though you’ve heard the digital-shutter sound, and perhaps have even reviewed the photo you know you just snapped, hours later you go to have a review of your day’s photos and…well, there’s nothing there. I knew this could happen in China, but was surprised to experience it in Australia. (To be fair, I had a month’s worth of work photos wiped out in the USA once, but that’s another story.) Bring a stand-alone camera!

Anyway, we took the Spirit of Queensland from Cairns to Proserpine. The Spirit of Queensland is a lovely train, and at this time of year the journey was entirely in daylight. Lots of verdant mountains with their ephemeral streams and falls flowing; cattle stations (in Australian, that’s a ranch) with sparse bovine populations–in some cases it looked like the wallabies (or maybe they were kangaroos) outnumbered the cattle; flocks of birds; small towns; locals going about their lives just getting from here to there for whatever reason. Everything I’d expect of a train ride. So, we got to Proserpine and took a shuttle bus to Airlie Beach.

Saturday, March 23–Airlie Beach

Whatever it had been at some point in the past, Airlie Beach is, today, a resort town. We spent a good deal of the day hiking around town, browsing a second-hand-books store, and, once the rain came, exploring a few of the town’s licensed establishments. Later, we took a shuttle to the Proserpine airport, where we caught an evening flight to Brisbane.

These are rainbow lorakeets, fairly common in this part of the world, a true parrot. I don’t remember what type of plant this is, but it appeared to be their food source.
Hey, seal! No loitering.
I’m not loitering. I’m holding up this veranda.

Sunday, March 24–Good Morning Brisbane! Good Night Kilkivan!

We started the day in Brisbane, rented a car, and drove up to Kilkivan to visit relatives of our friends from Sydney. Having grown up in rural Iowa, and still having a place in my heart for small towns and the country, it was my hope for this trip that we’d get to spend a bit of time out in the Australian countryside. After all, I think too many of us Americans (at least those of us of my generation) spend too much time in the urban areas and not enough time in small towns, whether at home or abroad. This part of the trip did not disappoint, though perhaps only in its brevity.

A view from our balcony at the Mantra on Mary in Brisbane. See that building over there called Quay West? Well, “Quay” is pronounced like “Key”, so it’s really Key West. Get it? Hilarious, no? OK, so I suppose the developer did not have Florida in mind, but I just couldn’t drop it…chuckled every time I thought of it.
Our hosts took us (and a couple of bottles of wine, and some cheese, and some biscuits–all Australian–and some comfy chairs, to the nearest, highest peak in Wrattens Forest (National Forest…but there seem to be some local issues). The views were amazing, the company was fantastic, the weather perfect…damn! Do I really have to go home some day?
And then the sun was going down, a light breeze was coming up, the ute’s headlights didn’t work so well, the road up here wasn’t so great–the road back down wouldn’t be any better. Dammit all, it was time to go.

So, I interrupt this travelogue to say that there were no more photos from this lovely Sunday evening. However, the next morning I had the sublime pleasure of eating a ripe, freshly plucked fig. Sorry to all the California growers, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to buy another “fresh” fig in a Midwestern grocery store again.

The landscape reminded me of places in Texas where I’ve been.
I like cows…I’m not sure if they like me.
Lunchtime in Fernvale. Our hosts in Kilkivan suggested a route away from the M##(whatever) back to Brisbane that would take us through some country towns and gorgeous scenery. The Mr. insisted we stop at Fernvale Pies for lunch, the Mrs. sort of rolled her eyes. My Mrs. seems to be suggesting I put the fucking camera down and eat my goddamn lunch.

Australian meat pies. These are not West Cornwall Pasties, they are not Michigan Pasties, and, well Swanson’s can only wish (I remember the chicken pies and beef pies from my childhood)…I have loved them all. No, these are in a category by themselves, and there will never be any nation, ever, that creates a meat pie that is so crunchy-crusty, unctuous, so demanding-to-be-consumed-by-the-consumer, as generations of Australians have done in creating this bit of national cuisine. (At this point, some of my readers may think I’ve wandered off into the world of satire, but I assure you, I worship these things as a source of sustenance.) Now here’s the deal, when you find them wrapped in cellophane on a warming tray in an Australian convenience store, they’re pretty damn good and satisfying. When you find them in any Aussie pub, they’re even better. And, at this point, if you’re into ’em, make the pilgrimage to Fernvale; you will not be sorry.

Afternoon, March 25–back in Brisbane

So, Brisbane is, well, it’s a flip-flop (thong) city. That is, things feel very casual, and, if you’re not exactly dressed for dinner you can probably still get a meal in many of the city’s nicer establishments…sort of reminded me of the Twin Cities (ahem…of Minneapolis and St. Paul). We spent the rest of the day wandering the city. And, yes, my “smart”phone decided that many of the photos I’d snapped didn’t really need to be saved, but it didn’t lose them all.

Having seen plenty of ibis in North America, I knew at an instant what this was. However, I’d never seen one in an urban environment. I was told that they’d descended on the cities during the last major drought, and had, apparently, decided that it was easier to make a living here than where they’d been.
This is in Brisbane. Near the river. I’m pretty sure it’s yogurt architecture; you love it or loathe it. No one is ambivalent. I love it, even though I don’t have a clue.

Cyborg kangaroos in downtown Brisbane.
Ok, they were actually sculptures…way effin’ cool IMHO.
Down by the river, some dude checked out my baby…
Besides that, if you’re ever in Brisbane, there is a lot of cool stuff to look at down by the Brisbane River.
This is a Ford Falcon ute…it’s what a Ranchero would have been if Ford’s product management had not been so myopic. There was a Holden (GM) version of this too. I just had to take photos of this because my mates and I had a lot of fun with one of these back in the day…when it didn’t look like this. I had taken lots of other photos, but did I mention my camera issues?
Some architectural features of Brisbane mashed up in a way that the program I was using thought would be a good idea, but now that I’m looking at it, I’m not so sure…
Urban planning, 7000 level course, but, duuuuhhhhh, it makes so much sense. Stop the traffic in all four direction simultaneously and let the peds cross in whateverdamndirection they want to go. Any way you roll the dice, this results in less wasted time for peds and drivers (hence, lower carbon emissions too). Just absolutely brilliant. We saw this in a couple of spots in the Sydney CBD too.

Now that I’m thinking about it, March 25th, 2019 was, for me, the greatest sightseeing day of my life. I’m just a little sorry that my imaging device of choice didn’t cooperate and produce more pictures to share.

Tuesday, March 26th–Back “home” in Sydney

With the exception of having to actually make it to our flight–our flight from Brisbane to Sydney, which departed at the very vacation-friendly hour of 1:00 P.M.–this was a very relaxed day. We arrived at Sydney uneventfully, decamped, and walked to The Henson for a sampling of the local brews. Walked back to homebase, cleaned up, and went with our hosts to see a competent performance of West Side Story.

In The Henson’s beer garden.
It’s family friendly–out of the frame to the left is a play area for children.
Taking up most of the lower left quadrant of this photo is the stage for tonight’s production of West Side Story. If that stage looks less than horizontal, that’s because it was. Absolutely amazing that the performers could dance on it. It must have been exhausting at the least.

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