Here We Go Again - Chapter 32 - Rolling Stone to Paronella

We awake to news of a very bad accident just north of us on the main highway. Its a sobering thought of what can go wrong. The accident has blocked our way. Three people were killed in an initial collision then two more when a Land Cruiser slammed into the parked vehicles.

Not looking forward to passing that spot only 10 kilometres or so north of us.

In the meantime its time to deal with the odour of the van. I grab the key and release the emulsion collection pod and me and my little mate head off to find the sewage dump point. Its interesting to see they have located it just by the bar and the kids cinema area. I empty and rinse twice. Then me and my little friend, light enough to carry nowe, head back to the van. 

It would seem there has been a leak in the connection between the toot and the pod. There is some over spill in the cavity that needs  a good clean before the pod’s replacement. Robyn throws the disinfectant at me and suggests hot water might be the go as well. We sacrifice some Chux to the job. It was quite dirty and now is pristine. Lets see if that fixes the odour issue. Only time will tell.

Now with the accident ahead of us Silver Leader checks with the park manager about hanging around just a little while the traffic clears. They are more than happy for us not to be on the road, urgently at 10.00am, the normal check out time. We can sit and leave at our leisure.

I suggest we could bug out and investigate if any pineapples from the crops near the road have fallen off and rolled onto the side of the road. Forbsy muses as to how they might roll from the private property to the road. I suggest they might require a kick like a golfer might do when encountering an unfriendly lie. He chortles about the how the kick or from where such momentum might occur – private property?? Everyone laughs.

Robyn empties the bin and comes back annoyed at the lack of full recycling facilities. There are bins for the 10 cent returnable containers but nothing else. We have segregated paper and bottles to deposit but there are no receptacles. The mighty dollar at work.

We leave the park just after 10.00am after hearing the road is clear. I have been afforded the lead today, normally I am the last in line. Firstly we need to clear the accident area. There is nothing to see. What carnage that had happened had been extensively cleaned up. The truck remained, having been craned off the road (we heard about this on the radio) and the secondary crash site, almost a kilometre further up the road was only debris on the sides of the roads.

The only things remaining of lives cut too short.

We start in bush land, or so it seems. Then all of a sudden the bush by the road falls away revealing the sugar cane it has been hiding. Vast crops of the cane stretching as far as the eye can see. Much of it ready to harvest as is seen by the grey topping of the green cane by the “seeding” portion of the plant

We get to see lots of it, and up close, as there are lots of roadworks again today. First we slow to 80kph then 60kph and if we slow to 40kph we know that a stop/go flag person is about to call a halt to the traffic or a set of traffic lights will. Some of the traffic lights are monitored “in person”. One of these positions must have been so demanding, the employee left to monitor the lights, was asleep in a chair by his vehicle. He moves a little to show he has not expired. 

Tough job this traffic monitoring.

At one such stop I leave a gap because where I am to stop, is a cross road. A cane tractor with a load of the commodity in its raw state on the back flashes across in front of us, heading for a line of cane trucks on the railway tracks.

The transfer of the cane from the trailer to the railway truck starts as an auger action then the entire trailer inverts to ensure all the raw cane ends up in the truck. We are here long enough to see the entire operation. 

The light goes green and we are back off again.

The roadworks comes and goes with monotonous regularity. You just seem to get up to speed and you are slowing again. Add to that we are heading towards rain and we have the perfect blend of driver frustration. We slow because of the conditions, they cant pass because it is impossible to see around us.

Overtaking lanes are few and far between and when they come along, we slow to allow as many of the drivers caught between us to pass. They are short and the tentative driver is lost to  the opportunity.. Forbsy exclaims as one driver gets in front of him, only to slow down – you have got to be kidding. At one town, rather than speed up initially, we pull over and let a big rig go past. Not that he got any great advantage, we were soon back stopped at roadworks again.

We come to the turn off the Bruce Highway towards our destination. The road is signposted at 100kph but we are lucky to post 60kph. Its windy, narrow and picturesque. This road continues for a short time then we turn again onto a road which must have shortcut the distance between the Bruce Highway and this point, but because it was signposted 80kph the GPS must have figured it was quicker to go the way we came.

We arrive at our destination and the schmozzle begins. There are signposts beckoning here and there are similar signposts beckoning there. Confusion reigns supreme. We decide to let the GPS have its head and continue on. Unfortunately this is incorrect and we are forced to back out of a car park and return to our actual campsites. No problem we are all in now. Power only sites tonight.

The vans in, we walk across to the reception for booking in. The walkway to the office includes a trip across a suspension bridge. Its not your normal bridge of that type but it does manage a good resonance to scare the womenfolk. There are tours to be had here. Day tours and night tours that we have to book in for. This is done with no fuss and we return to the vans. This time the womenfolk take the long way around, thus missing the suspension bridge.

Paronella Park is somewhat of an enigma. It was the dream of a “mad” Spanish gentleman who arrived here with a dream, promoted of his mother of knights and castles. The history of this place has to be heard to be believed, and the results, in the castles, walkways and other structured have to be seen to be believed.

Mother Nature is fighting back now, but in its heyday this “sure must have been something”. Just imagine a grand castle complex with outdoor and indoor culinary and leisure expanses, all powered by its own hydro-electric installation (which still provides power to the park, surrounding area and the grid). There are romantic walk ways, there are (were) tennis courts, a grand ballroom which must have seen many an event in its time, and lots of other areas to simply walk and marvel of the times.

We do a day tour but our admission also affords us  an entry for a night light tour. Our guide works off a memorised script and at times, diverts answering questions, then asks where she is up to and resumes the talk. She is jovial and makes fun of the talk but her words take you back into what was a madman’s dream he turned into reality. 

There is a set of stairs – 47 of them – from the top area down to the water under the falls. Along the staircase are mementos to floods which have ravaged the park. The 1946 flood, the worst, sent a 50 feet wall of water down the river and all  but wiped out the park. Between water and fire (an oh my God the chips moment), the area, one might suggest is in ruin, but only from the commercial use it was intended. Now the remnants provide a view into the decadent past of the upper classes.

When we started we were all handed a small container for fish food. Our guide says they are to feed the black bream and she passes off the experience as “something to do after her talk”. She dismisses us after half an hour and we wander. 

Forbsy discovers the turtle nesting area sign and we head there. Yes there are turtles, lots of them, all clambering over the exposed roots, looking for their share of the food on offer. But they are also clambering over fish, large fish and not the black bream our guide had mentioned.

Here there are the much sought after Sooty Grunter, Jungle Perch and other large presences in the water. Sport fish all of them and big enough to make even the toughest gear sing. Some fish are swimming over the turtles, well and truly out of the water, others are underneath punching the turtles out of the water. We play with them for a while, teasing them with the fish food.

The real fish feeding area is at the bottom of the falls. Here again the same types of fish lurk. But the difference here is there is only one turtle and you can get right to the water’s edge. The fish are so thick and teased by the food, will bunch up so that you could almost pull them out of the water with your hand. I snap some pictures of Silver Leader with his nose all but on the water looking to touch the fish. This is possible but only for a moment and the timid fish back off.

Time is becoming an issue as we are also booked on the night time tour. Our fish extravaganza has to stop, and in any event we have no fish food left. Forbsy and Silver Leader suggest my telescopic rod and a red celta (hidden in a backpack) would have been all that would have been required for a fish dinner.

Up the 47 stairs (a much more difficult task late in the afternoon) back to reception and readying ourselves for the night time light show. My ankles are not enjoying the experience and I seek out a table where I can get them off the ground and higher than my heart for a while. The restaurant area is uninhabited and suits the purpose and I get a good half hour.

When the call is made for the tour, they have reduced in size visibly and there is a tingle in them that suggests circulation.

We are all handed small torches for the night time tour. We were told it would be more experiential than informative on the day tour, but our guides never seem to shut up. The grand ballroom has a mirror ball  almost 2 metres in diameter and is throwing coloured reflections around the structure. This ball is made like one expects but evidently the ball Jose Paronella installed here had  rounded reflectors. Pictures are taken, without the flash on as requested, even though some patrons are finding it difficult to comply.

We are ushered down to the great leisure area and seated on what were the tennis courts. Crushed termite nests were used to create the court but Mother Nature has now ensured what was a clay court, is now a lawned area. Seated, we await the show.

Les, the guide, who actually welcomed us when we arrived, takes over the commentary. The owners like to do this part but they are away. He talks about the inspiration for the light show and how a group of musicians came to the park and started, playing and composing. When the light show starts the oohs and ahhs are quite audible. 

It is spectacular in the least. Colour changes and flashes co-ordinated to the music make for great still and video photography. I even managed to get a full darkness shot, with enough light to illuminate the picture, because from our vantage point in the centre of the arena you can see through the building to the lit up waterfall behind. This vista, copied during the daylight was a vision of Jose Paronella that he built for his wife and children to enjoy.

The light show finishes to a standing ovation which means its now time to either take those obligatory selfies or as we decide, head to the pub for dinner. Our table was booked on our arrival and we have a prime spot on the verandah. Meals are ordered and drinks consumed and by 9.00pm they are packing up around us. We are not the only patrons left, although the packing up soon makes it that way. There is a call of last drinks to which Forbsy notes we are already supplied and the pub closes. The lights are on, the music is still playing but all the doors into the building are closed. We are not sure if they even cleared our table after we left, such was the finality of the closing of the establishment.

Its only a short walk back up the hill to the paddock section of the van park where our vans sit. We struggle in, put our heads down and sleep is instantaneous.