From "The Limit" to Wongi via Cracow

From what I recall of the previous evening, when good wines were being demolished as if they were going out of fashion, John and Libby were excellent hosts and it was hangovers all round the following morning then, after breakfast, it was off to see the sights. They live on a farm surrounded by hills and fabulous views in every direction – a rural idyll, and yet, within a very short distance, lies the town of Gladstone which we missed out on during our last visit – smart move in retrospect. Whilst I realise we need heavy industry, Gladstone seems to have cornered the market in this part of the world – a smelter, a power station, three gas plants with attendant pipelines, coal exporting facilities, the cement works – the list goes on. Perhaps not the most attractive of towns and, when the wind blows, a film of coal dust carries for many miles.

Us with our hosts John and Libby

When we were here four years ago John and Libby's son Michael and his wife Shannon, who live next door on the farm, had just produced a grandchild. In the intervening years they had been very busy and now John and Libby have three grandsons on the premises – Archer, Nathan and Zander.

 

With grandchildren - Archer, Nathan and Zander

 

The eldest, Archer, has just started kindergarten, is particularly gregarious and already knows more about farming and stockmanship than I ever will. One evening he marched me up to the top of the hill to show me the views of his farm and to look at the sunset whilst he informed me he was very lucky – an opinion which I for one could not contradict.

Archer holding court - King of all he surveyed!

After a slightly less subdued evening of food and drink we took to the road again the next morning to see yet more of the sights that somehow fall below the tourist radar – including the salt factory and dock facilities at Port Alma. Sights not to be missed and indeed interesting in their own surreal way - particularly the armed police and military presence that accompanies shipments of explosives to foreign places. This was all topped off nicely with a trip to a local roadhouse for a few beers and some excellent fish and chips.

After three nights at “The Limit” (the rather unusual name of the farm) it was time to get on the road again. John gave us his recommended route for travelling south – directions which we completely ignored or forgot as the road rolled out ahead of us in its usual willy-nilly way. Passing through Biloela and the small town of Banana, we found ourselves visiting an open cut coal mine the name of which neither of us can remember other than it was near another small town called Theodore.

Coal mine near Theodore

 As darkness started to fall we rolled into Isla Gorge National Park and found ourselves the only campers on the premises – which suited us just fine.

At Isla Gorge

The following morning we did a ridge walk to view the gorge then got on our way again. Before leaving for our walk a caravan arrived and duly set up for the day and the owners approached us complaining about the Queensland National Park booking system which I too have complained about even more vociferously. However, this is more forgiving country and access both internet and telephone is much easier than up north and we have been paying our dues like dutiful citizens – therefore it bugs me when we have paid and other cheapskates are intent on cheating the system. Having complained about the system they then feigned ignorance of how to book, we told them, saying that we had booked on line. I then developed a small white lie and said that the booking website indicated that the site was fully booked for that night. When we returned from our walk they had re-packed their caravan and buggered off – Sandra said I had scared them off – Good!

A cracking pub - the Hotel Cracow

We back tracked to Theodore then arrived in the small and very interesting town of Cracow – yes there is a Polish connection (different spelling) but I'm not quite sure what it is. Cracow, where John and Libby used to have a farm, is a goldmining town which over the last century has seen its ups and downs. Although the goldmine has fairly recently re-opened I would say that the town itself is definitely going through a “down” period with the main exception being the amazing Cracow Hotel. Not only in good structural nick, the inside of the bar is stuffed with a wide range of what I would call “outback paraphernalia” - and it all appears to be genuine. However even here there was a Scottish connection with a photograph of a “C U Jimmy” hat – if only Danny Mackay had been able to collect royalties on the hat he would have been a millionaire! (Jon, make sure Danny sees this)

The Scot's influence is everywhere - C U Jimmy!

Apart from the hotel the town is almost derelict apart from an interesting visitor centre mainly focussed on mining and of course paid for by the current mining company.

 

Monument at visitor centre - three types shotblasting

 

Most of the houses, mainly wood and corrugated iron, are falling down but amazingly many still have people living in them. Perhaps most poignant was the row of wooden shops in what was probably the main shopping street in another era – all boarded up and falling down. Sandra was most taken by one whose peeling painted sign identified it as the “Frock Shop” whilst another, signed as the Bank of New South Wales, still had a wooden hitching rail for horses at the front.

The shopping precinct

The Billiard Saloon

The Bank - note the wooden hitching rail for horses

Dragging ourselves away from the pub after a couple of beers – served by a girl from Ireland – we ended up camping for a one-nighter near the banks of the Burnett River a few kilometres from the town of Eidsvold which is no doubt famous for something but we didn't find out what. The following day we passed through Mundubbera, Gayndah, Biggenden and finally Maryborough before setting up camp at Wongi Waterhole. Thankfully we seem to have outrun the Grey Nomads and Caravan Brigade and Wongi is very peaceful – an idyllic spot with a quiet stretch of water flanked by paperbark gums and lots of birds.

Wongi Waterhole - view from our campsite

Our intention was to visit Fraser Island, the world's largest sand island, which lies a few kilometres off shore – but somehow I don't think that this will materialise. We visited two local towns, Maryborough with its traditional Queenslander houses and Hervey Bay, a seaside town with its traditional fish and chip shops and kiss-me-quick hats.

Our intention is now to work our way south to Brisbane where will be staying for a few days with old friends Willie and Helen Tait. We have of course tried to stay with them for a few days several times in the past and have failed miserably – it's impossible to stay for just a few days, their hospitality is such we have never managed to get away in less than a week! We are likely to be Chez Tait when the result of the Referendum on Scottish Independence is announced. I only hope that the Scottish people vote a resounding “No” (or even a close “No”) - we don't want the lunatics taking over the asylum. Yes, we do have a vote on the most important decision to have been taken in Scotland for over 300 years – our son Jon will be casting our votes by proxy next Thursday.

My next posting to the blog will probably be after the Referendum – depending on the result we my be claiming political asylum in Australia – but would they have us?!