Here We Go Again - Chapter 34 - Cairns Day 2

“So here she’s acting happy” is a line from a Harry Chapin song – Sequel. We have our plan, we are happy but its early. For those of you who are on holidays one might suggest “damn early”. 

But thats what we have in “the plan”. Today is the Daintee and rather than drive and attempt to seek out the great spots, we want the full experience. To do this we have booked a tour. It starts at 7.00am from the front of the park where we are picked up by Joe, our guide for the day. We are not his first pickup, there are others already in the bus. Its a truck type bus. 4wd in nature, much like the one we were subjected to at Cape Levett on our previous trip.

There are other pickups to be made  but the bus will not be full. Only 11 patrons today, meaning we have room to spread out and meet everyone and enjoy the trip together, rather than as several couples (well in our case a quintet) encased in a box all day. Its a 30 minute drive to Palm Cove to pick up the next group.

Joe has been talking already and starts on one of his pet subjects, the roads around Cairns. One of the pet hates centres around the one road in one road out, concept the effects of which we see as the peak hour traffic backs up against our present course. The second, which is a post result of that concept, is that to get from beach to beach you need to return to the Bruce Highway, travel a short distance and then head back into the next suburb. No rat races here to get around building traffic.

We finally have everyone and Joe points the bus north.

We are travelling at speed. We have a lot to fit into the day. A few things will be only a drive past and if we are lucky, a photo opportunity. The first of which is a rock stacking point. The rocks here are nicely rounded and very conducive to staking in the Forbsy like manner. Joe speaks of the tribulations of the local Council versus the tourist. As soon as the tourists build them, the Council knocks them down, supposedly because they were a traffic hazard, vehicles slowing down on the windy road to take pictures.

The tourists appear to have won.

Our first stop is Mossman Gorge and a walk into the Daintree. Joe leads us into the bush. He is knowledgeable about the flora and potential fauna. 

The track is paved, paved by the owners. Here the sacrifice of the bush actually works to the vagaries of the man versus nature. We walk, we see, without injury or strain, meaning we see what we “want” to see, and we are out of the bush leaving it to the “quiet possession” a landlord needs to give a tenant, except the landlord is the tenant and we are fleeting renters of the path.

The plan for the trip is pinpoint in its accuracy, although we may never see it. Back at the starting point we are ushered into morning tea. Scones made from local ingredients. They are delicious and accompanied with tea and coffee. No good for me as I drink neither. We will spend some time savouring the fare. It starts to rain and the gutterings here go to work. The violumes of rain this palace can receive, nothing like we are getting today, are adequately handled  by the guttering system which if placed on a “normal” house would create a doubly sized set of eaves.

Joe, gets us moving, we have places to be, people to see. Joe lets us know our next stop is a staging point for our boat trip down the Daintree, where we “may” see crocodiles if we are lucky. He usherers us back on the bus and off to a stop where we can have a free cup of tea or a cool drink of cordial. Then we are further ushered to a flat bottomed punt for almost an drift down the Daintree to a point where Jow will pick us up again. North of a ferry across the river, but not in any hurry.

The trip down the Daintree is full of sightings of crocodiles. There are small ones. Ones from the last hatching which are less than a metre long, their mothers are not far away, no that they are overly motherly. There are lots of large crocs in the area, including the dominant male. At 4.5 metres he is an imposing animal, king of his domain. He is guarding half a cow, probably attacked by another croc, but now his personal stash. The skipper of the punt muses that although the stomach of the crocodile is small, all the crocs we have seen look fat and perhaps he has been “feeding” his harem.

We finish our trip on the Daintree, ending at the north end of the ferry where Joe is waiting for us, ready to thrust the gangway towards the punt. We get back on the bus for a short trip to our luncheon venue.

Lunch is at a place called “On the Turps”. We were asked to order our lunches on the bus earlier and Joe had radioed ahead. Of the eleven, 10 are having the Barramundi option. Its a huge meal of a grilled fillet and salad. I attack it with relish, not the condiment, the action. Robyn does the same but hers is even larger than mine, and even with a Chardonnay incentive, she cannot finish it. She offers what remains to me and being the resident “Hoover” (according to Silver leader and Forbsy), the protein part of her email disappears.

We waddle out of the restaurant, one we had no idea where it was, nor would we had found if we had tried to discover the “north of the ferry” on our own, and head back to the bus for the trip to Cape Tribulation, the northernmost point of our trip for the day.

We get to Cape Tribulation with the story of Captain James Cook and his mishap that made  him beach the HMS Endeavour on the shore and repair it over seven weeks before being able to re-float it and continue his historic journey around the world as the third captain to circumnavigate the globe. On this voyage he had as one of his crew, one of my forefathers, a botanist, later knighted, Sir Joseph Banks.

There is one more stop to make. An ice cream vendor on the way. One which uses local fruits, grown on the farm to create delectable treats for the tourists. We are those and we are savouring them, given we have been loaded up with a selection of their fare. There is a Davidson Plumb variety which is particularly intriguing given we have two of these trees growing in our garden at Smiths Lake. We are told there are three varieties of that plant and our is a little different from the ones they grow here (and a lot less tart let me tell you)

I have been feeling a little motion sick sitting in the back of the bus (wouldn’t be anything to do with the excessive amounts i have consumed today would it) and I asked Joe if I can sit in the jump seat on the way home. I only want to sit it on the long hip of the trip and he suggests there are a number of stops yet to make. There is the ferry to get back across the river to the area where electricity comes from the grid. North of the ferry, all the electricity is self generated. Diesel generators and solar installations are the norm. From the ferry south “the grid” provides it.

There is one more stop before the “big” trip home. Its a look out which on a good day you can see all the way to Cairns. It has been a cloudy day and the view is not brilliant but good enough to see all the way to our destination. Once the snaps are done we funnel back into the bus for the trip home. I have taken the jump seat in the front of the bus and talk to Joe as we head home.

Between our discussions and the places of interest the trip goes quickly, but by the time we reach the first drop offs, the light is fading. We drop off the two last arrivals and head toward the van park, a half an hour further on. The streets around Palm Cove are very intricate and negotiating them, especially when a topless bus of partying youths goes past can create issues, but nothing Joe cannot handle.

Home, its dark, what to do for dinner. My ankles have not enjoyed the day. To say they have become “kankles:” would be an understatement. I resign myself to an hour on the bed, legs in the air and my ankles wrapped in the frozen pads I purchased some days earlier for the pharmacy.

We are not that hungry but when Chinese is suggested we are in. We add to the order some boiled rice, sweet and sour pork (Rtbyn’s favourite) and I go for a chicken and cashew concoction. The group accumulates at Silver Leaders van. Forbsy has purchased a Sechuwan Chilli Chicken, and is struggling with the head to the dish. I try some to check it out, its not that bad. Yes its very thermal, but not ridiculously hot. I exchange a piece of chicken for some of Robyn’s pork.

We have eaten far too much today. Bed is calling, as is another early start tomorrow, not quite as early but early enough.