Cairns to Normanton

Dunedin’s International Airport might not be much chop, but it offers the international traveller more than Cairns International Airport does (if you exclude destinations served). There’s a very long corridor running along the outside of the main terminal to a tiny international terminal, where you’ll find no ATM, a coffee kiosk, a money changer and some rental car outfits. There’s no bus to town: the main road with buses does run down the west side of the airport, but the terminal is on it’s east side. To walk to the nearest bus stop is more than an hour, and walking all the way into town takes about ten minutes more than catching the bus. It’s about 6 or 7 k, yet Uber wants $40! Taxis are cheaper. In fact I get into town for $15, as I chat to an English couple as we wait for one and we share.

A big shout out to my un-named taxi driver is called for. When we get to Travellers Autobarn, it turns out they have moved - to north of the airport, as it happens. Not only does my driver suggest I take the bus, he drives me to the bus stop and hands me $1.50 for the fare! Above and beyond. The bus driver very curtly waves me on when I try to pay: it seems the buses are free anyway.

This is my home until Saturday, a good old Hiace. I have diligently watched the video showing me the van’s features - but that was a Mitsubishi, things are in a different place in this one, so Amina has to walk me through its features. She is very careful to tell me to check fluids every day (they even provide a bottle of oil) and to never drive on gravel roads (this does become important). More insurance hassles: I had thought the $AU3,500 security deposit I paid meant a $3,500 excess. So, while I am covered for $4,000 from a third party supplier, if I write the van off, anything above $4,000 is on me. Better not, then. I’m not sure how old the van is (there are no rego or other stickers) but it has done 540,000 km - a venerable beast. It rattles a fair bit (a bit less when I put the cups in the bed and the gas canisters in the cooler), the gears are a little worn (finding third can be a mission) but is pretty good to drive.

My first stop is in town, to get a Telstra SIM (I had tried for an eSim, but they couldn’t verify an international passport online, even though their website says they can). The young fellow at the Telstra store says it will be 90 minutes before I can be seen. Vodafone won’t honour their online deals at the shop, so I buy a SIM at Woolworths and try to activate it myself: nope. So, I’m without a phone, and just a small amount of data I bought before getting here.

I have asked for advice on how far to drive - the general suggestion is Mount Surprise, about four hours away. I’m not really feeling like driving so far (I did have a 3:30 a.m. start and no real sleep on the plane) so have picked a wee town about half the distance away, Ravenshoe (no, I don’t know how it’s pronounced). It’s a nice looking town, the highest in Queensland (no, not drug induced - I don’t know where that might be but suspect Kuranda) at 930 metres above sea level. It’s a long, arduous climb with many twists to get there through forest: I enjoy it. This gives an idea of what I drive through - there’s nowhere to stop for 20 km until this pull out.

Looking ahead a little: I might have climbed to 1,000 meters but the descent to sea level is imperceptible over the next 600 km. To get to Ravenshoe, I drive through the Crater Lake National Park, so pull in to look at the first lake I notice - Lake Eacham. I hear later that it’s a great swimming spot and that there’s only one crocodile here, so not worth worrying about.

Ravenshoe had been a big timber town until it was recognised that logging in the oldest rainforest in the world needed to stop. This was accomplished by declaring a large part of the eastern part of northern Queensland a World Heritage area. I’m sure it has brought in tourists, but perhaps not to Ravenshoe.

Although I have made enquires about staying at the roadhouse, I actually arrive early enough to stay somewhete much better - the grounds of the former railway station. The rail started running here from Cairns in 1916, and ran until 1988.

The volunteer who takes my money suggests that the food at the bottom pub is good: she’s not sure about the top pub, as it’s just started doing dinner. Despite it’s glorious name, Pignatti’s, the dining room at the bottom pub is dismal, just a square room with a bunch of wood veneer topped tables, and a single group eating. To make matters worse, the bar is full of very loud voices. I do come in afterwards for a drink: just a small group of guys shouting at each other (one fellow says he works every day, so he has to drink every day) although it’s a bit amusing when the young woman from the kitchen dances on a bar stool. Not my sort of place.

I fare much better at the top pub: I’d already been impressed by the fitout in the dining room (Sylvinnia’s) as I walked though town checking it out. When I come back, the restaurant is full of happy customers, although at one point the waitress (it’s just her second night) has to remonstrate with the chef: I anticipate them coming to blows, but they don’t, quite. One customer raises a concern about the butter chicken: it was not great last time. That leads to a story about Salvatore the town’s #2 curry man - I see back at camp that he delivers frozen meals around town, so guess that that’s what the pub used, until they got Hari, their own #1 curry man.

I have a very satisfactory spaghetti bolognaise and some unnecessary garlic bread the waitress had managed to sell me. Tuesday morning starts with an OK coffee at the Popular Café - I should really have taken a photo, but I get interrupted by a fellow who wants to chat: he had been a ship’s captain in tour boats, and brought a mate up (he didn’t say from where) to show him the town. The café has an interesting curved stainless steel counter and two sets of two booths in a beautiful dark wood. After a last slow walk around town and a pie from the bakery, I have to get moving as I have six hours to my next destination. The road looks like this. with variations in the densities and types of tree and prevalence of termite mounds.

At one point, the road gets to look like this, and I’m thinking this is how it will be the rest of the way (or maybe even the road will be unsealed (I’m not allowed to drive on unsealed roads). It turns out that they are limited - the longest is a few kilometres long. I decide they are heritage strips - showing how the road was when first sealed - which are gradually being brought up to scratch.

Mount Surprise is nothing more than a couple of petrol stations and caravan parks - it would not have been a pleasant place to stay. Petrol gets noticeably more expensive as I head west: starting at $2:03 in Ravenshoe and climbing to $2.35 in Normanton. I only stop for cold drinks and to keep the petrol tank full, and arrive at around 5:00. I’m impressed by the young policewoman I encounter in the supermarket: she has an arresting face. I have two nights booked in the Normanton Tourist Park - it’s pretty good. There’s a big kitchen area with decent wifi and power points, so I can charge my devices and hang out with my laptop.

I’m a little dismayed when Google tells me there’s only one place - in a town of 1,500 - to get an evening meal. It turns out to be wrong, as the Rosie’s chicken place is not closed, but I venture into the one place it tells me about.

They actually make a damn fine burger with plenty of fresh salad at the Purple Pub, and serve cheap pints of cold XXXX (I’m not liking the mass market Australian beers, but cope with XXXX).

As for why I’m in Normanton - that’s in my next post. If you like this one, it costs nothing to tick like and it might make the algo a little more friendly to me.

Cheers!