queensland Keyword
Whynot Street
I’ve been in Brisbane a little over two weeks now. I’ve seen a little bit of the beautiful Sunshine Coast. I’ve been disgusted by the shallow, horrible, skyscraper laden hole that is the Gold Coast. I’ve wandered national parks, explored Brisbane town, gone over the Story Bridge, swam at a fake beach and busked with locals at Nimbin. I’ve even managed to squeeze in a visit to a gaming exhibition. All these things were interesting, nice little experiences. Each memory nicely wrapped in a neat little moment. Stored away, ready to jump out at an inappropriate time to remind me of days gone by.
None of these memories though, will fill me with as much nostalgia as those from Whynot Street. A curious name for a road, yet entirely fitting. Every moment at 38 Whynot Street, West End has been welcoming, exciting, relaxing, fulfilling, intriguing, enlightening and inspiring. I’ve met some of the most wonderful people you can imagine here. I’ve had a chance to hang out with my good friend. I’ve played heaps of guitar. I’ve read far too little of my books. I slept almost an entire day on the couch while the house partied on around me. I’ve fought with the tiny fridge, painted my contribution on the coffee table, played chicken with the temperamental hot water system and listened to the rain falling on the roof day after glorious day.
I’ll never forget the people I’ve met here. Selene, the mexican PHD student. Jamie the flighty, crazy New South Welshman. Antoine, the very cool and very relaxed French uni student. Jess, the arty, fun loving Australian who stole my shed. Julianna, Jamie’s Brazillian better half. The wonderful Frenchies. Tak, the Japanese massage student and of course, the wonderful Tegan and her fantastic, funny and intellectual boyfriend Sam.
I leave this place tomorrow, bound for Sydney on my Odyssey, but for tonight: we party, one last time.
Lamington National Park
On the penultimate (I love that word) day of having my hire car, Tegan and I visited Lamington National Park. Situated about 100km’s south of Brisbane, this world heritage listed site runs the gamut from dense tropical rainforest to sparse dry bushland. The area we had a walk around, Birra Burra, is part of a long silent volcano. Evidence of the volcanoes activity, though occurring an eon ago, can still be seen in the landscape.
Setting out early we reached Birra Burra at about 10am. Stopping at a coffee shop featuring a beautiful view of the area, Tegan grabbed a couple of guides and we planned our day over a latte. It was decided we’d do two of the shorter walks available. The first a rainforest walk, and the second a 5km hike that encompassed the other side of the hill.
The Rainforest walk was beautiful. Under the cool dark canopy we walked the tracks, taking in the immense trees and moist air. Huge strangler figs enveloped massive eucalyptus trees, vines hung everywhere. Little birds scrounged the undergrowth, making a mess and running about. The Rainforest walk was fairly short, but a good introduction to the park.
Jumping in the car we headed down the hill and started the Caves Circuit. The first thing you see on the path is a warning regarding the cliff edges. The photos don’t really capture just how steep and dangerous some of the portions of the walk were, with sheer, seemingly bottomless drops constantly present alongside the narrow, often slippery unprotected path. The view from the trek though was amazing. Looking into a valley carved over millions of years was awe inspiring. Along the walk we encountered a very relaxing waterfall, caves that were once used as protection from the elements by aborigines of the area and twisting tracks leading up the steep side of the mountain. The walk ended at the top of the mountain, leaving us to walk down the road to our car.
On the way down, feeling an itch Tegan took off her boot to find a leech gorging itself on her ankle. The little bastard did a bit of a number on her, and Tegans foot bled and felt weird for most of the drive home. It was utterly macabre.
After our visit to the National Park we headed to Burleigh Heads, south of Surfers for a packed lunch Tegan had made. We sat on the beach, eating cous cous salad and relaxing. I finally found a nice pub on the beach, something which proved non-existent at surfers, and we had a coffee before the drive home. It was a great day, and seeing the forest just made me want to adventure further north into the Daintree. One day.
After the break is a video montage of some of the photos I took during the day, with sound from the rainforest. Oh, and before you start, I know I spelt Lamington wrong in the titles. It was late, and I can’t be bothered fixing it.
Surfers Paradise
My plans for a Saturday morning trip to Surfers were waylaid by Tegan’s suggestion to head to the markets, grab coffee and visit a travel expo. This was probably for the best as the weather, as it has been since I got here, was pretty terrible. At the markets I got a french sweet crepe made by some of the Frenchies that live at WhyNot Street. We wandered the overly commercial Travel Expo only to be stung by a 13 dollar parking fee for the 15mins we were there, and then relaxed at the Three Wise Monkey’s coffee shop.
I started my mission to see the Gold Coast at about 1pm, leaving Tegan to complete her assignments over a mug-a-chino at the coffee shop. Jumping in the car I was once again on the motorway, cruising past other road users on the 70km trip South to Surfers Paradise. (On a side note: Drivers here are just as bad as Perth, however; their road rage is misplaced, and they are overly accommodating to the point of destroying the flow of traffic. The complete opposite to Perth drivers insistence in not allowing over-taking or merging.)
I drove the streets of Surfers, huge residential towers dwarfing my compact car, until I found Surfers Paradise Boulevard. I parked and walked the almost mile long strip of beach that runs almost the complete length of the city. The beach reminded me of Scarborough back in Perth, the golden sand stretching as far as I could see.
As it was still miserable weather I didn’t swim. I was longing for a nice beer and meal in a pub on the beach, but to my amazement I couldn’t find a single decent place. How an entire city can exist by the beach and not have a slew of upmarket beach fronting pubs just flabbergasted me.
I didn’t spend long in Surfers, just enough time to grab a beer and a Red Rooster burger. I did get to see the ridiculous, advertising plastered metermaids that Surfers is so famous for. The girls pimped themselves to me, offering a photo with them for a fee. I gave them one look and informed them I had a whole selection of photos of me with much hotter girls (albeit wearing more clothes) who didn’t ask me for money. They were not amused. I don’t seem to amuse many women.
I left the coast soon after that, walking through an altercation between a dickhead in a Commodore who backed into an Asian family’s Mercedes. A traffic cop was mediating, trying to keep control of a flurry of hand waving, pointing and racial slurs when the bogan fled the scene in a squeal of tires, leaving the car load of mates he had with him at the time standing by the side of the road. Yup: I’m in Queensland alright.
Nimbin
My hire car is proving to be a boon to my travel situation. On Friday, gathering a group from the house, I loaded up the little Hyundai Getz with Crystal, Julianna, Antwon, and Jamie and headed south to New South Wales. “To Nimbin” was the call from the car as we pulled onto the motorway.
As we moved south, thick, lush rain forest bushland gave way to rolling, cleared farm lands. Rain, as it has for most of my adventure, bucketed down in torrents, at one point almost forcing us to stop the car. One-way bridges were covered over by the rivers they were traversing. The wipers couldn’t move the water off the windscreen fast enough and misting windows obscured my vision. We pushed on. The rain cleared as we pulled into the infamous town of Nimbin, leaving behind a thin mist and slick streets.
Nimbin, once considered almost a Utopian town by the hippies that resided there, is a small rural community with a population of around 350 “official” residents. While Nimbin originally began life as a dairy farming town, its main drawcard now is the fairly relaxed marijuana laws that exist there. Drugs such as various varieties of pot and hash, acid and mushrooms are sold relatively openly in the street. The heady aroma of grass and incense mingles with the sweaty, “haven’t showered since Malcolm Fraser” stink of the bums and druggies that wander the main strip. Large groups of stoned tourists shamble along, bleary eyed, talking shit and browsing hemp themed souvenir stores. Aging hippies sit behind street stalls selling shiny nicknacks and new age books. If it could be tie-died, it was tie-died.
While the utopian nature of the place may have gone, the druggies have not. The “free love” ideal brought to the town by the hippies that transformed it so long ago has been lost to drunk bums and modern meth head junkies.
I wandered the main strip, stopping into the local pub where loud music played from an old CD jukebox drowned out the caller on the TAB racing screens. I found the rest of the group chatting to some aboriginals busking in the street for booze money. I picked up one of their guitars and with Antwon grabbing the bongo we busted out a few tunes on the street. One of the buskers repeatedly yelled Superman while I played, in reference to my tshirt.
My time in Nimbin was a pretty surreal. While it made me a little sad to see what could have been a nice place turned bad, it was still an experience I have now crossed off my “things to do” list.
On the way back Jamie directed us to Mount Warning the highest, most eastern part of Australia. If you wish to catch the first rays of light hitting Australia on New Years, the top of Mount Warning is the place to be. The forest was lush, helped in part by the heavy rains and the running creeks and dripping foliage were very peaceful.
We crept back into Brisbane with its twinkling lights around 7pm. Just in time for some dinner. I sat listening to the creaking and popping of the car as the engine cooled in the moist night air. I decided that I would hit Surfers Paradise the next morning.
Noosa
This is what I imagined Queensland to be like. Perfect, beautiful sandy beaches. Lush, green and tropical bush. Beautiful skies and warm, clear water.
About an hour and a half north of Brisbane is the Sunshine Coast, and at the northern end of that Noosa Heads. Fairly touristy in some parts it is worth heading a little past the main beach and into the national park. Here you will find secluded, quiet and beautiful beaches with decent surf and nice shallow warm water. Watch for rips though.
I swam for about 4 hours, relaxing in the surf while Jess, one of Tegan’s friends who played navigator for my trip up the coast sunbathed and did assignments. I had a great day, capping it off with a fantastic fish burger and a visit to the Big Pineapple! Rock and Roll! I was a little disappointed in myself that I didn’t stop at Aussie Land and aussie it up something cruel, but I did get Jess to get a photo as we went past the Ettamogah Pub.