THE LADY OF THE LAKE

I spent a very relaxed five days in Maroochydor on the river.I had intended to go to Rainbow Beach but met with full house messages when I phoned the caravan parks there.  When I phoned a park in Maroochydor to see if they had any sites free, they said yes but it was at the back of the park near the lake and I'd be on grass rather than having a cement slab. I nearly fell about laughing. They were apologizing and I thought it was idyllic. Which it turned out to be. So here are a few photos.

Camped on the grass near the trees and lake

Looking into the lake near the Tardis

Looking across the lake with ducks swimming and the Tardis on the far bank among the trees to the left.

One of the many ducks on the lake but this one wans't black like the others. They don't show in the phto but there were enormous fish gliding past in the clear water.

The lake at my doorstep

A magical place

The view from my door

HIGHWAY HAPPENINGS

Driving along the Pacific Highway, dreadful road, one lane each way, when I saw a man in the middle of the road waving his arms, trying to get the cars to stop. He was tall, had long fair hair and beard and bare feet. Just substitute the shirt and shorts for possum skins and he could have been William Buckley after 32 years living with the Aborigines.

 I wasn't in a position to take a photo of him so here's a picture of William Buckley instead so you'll have a good idea.

William Buckley in 1835

The cars ahead of me were skirting around him and driving on. I thought perhaps he needed help so I wound down the window and stopped.

“What’s the matter?” I called out to him as he came up to me.

“There’s a major accident on the road up ahead. Lots of cars involved. If you turn off at this road to the left you can skirt round it and get back on the highway,” he told me.

“Thanks for your help,” I said as he continued on trying to stop the approaching cars. 

The road he had pointed to had cars coming in and out of it so it wasn’t isolated. I took him at his word and turned down it. As I drove around the back of a small town, I could see across the paddick, dozens of cars, flashing lights and smoke pouring out of the chaos. I would have been there for hours ‘cause there is no way I could have turned the Tardis round once I had got into the line of cars. I guess the motorists who had dodged the wild white man were wishing they had stopped and listened. I said a silent thank you to him and made a mental note about judging book covers and books. The road brought me back on to the highway just on the other side of the accident and I was able to continue on my way.

About 20 km further on I joined a line of cars behind a ute towing a caravan. One by one cars managed to pass it when the occasional passing lane came up. When we would get to a passing lane the blighter would speed up so it wasn’t easy.  Finally, I was the one right behind the van; we reached a passing lane and the driver sped up again. I had had enough of it by then so I planted my foot and sailed past. As I did, I took a quick look to see what sort of an idiot drove like that. It was a young man busily keying in a text message on his mobile phone. I was glad to have him behind me.

Kilkivan Bush Camp

I’d never heard of Kilkivan but its claim to fame is the Great Horse Ride, held annually round Easter. They have over a thousand horses, riders and horse-drawn vehicles participate.  After the ride, there’s a grand parade, lots of celebrating and fun. Sadly it was cancelled this year because of the flood but was rescheduled for later this year. Now it’s been cancelled again because of the Hendra Virus which is killing horses and is dangerous to other domestic animals and humans. So the next Great Ride is now schedules for 31 March 2012.There’s a statue of a horseman in front of the town library to commemorate the ride. 

Our A Van gathering was held a couple of kilometres south of Kilkivan and five kilometres off the main road into the bush. Absolutely beautiful. A creek flowed through the area. Birds sang and called to each other. The trees were tall and straight.

Organiser Lindsay made me very welcome and he and co-host Jocelyn did a magnificent job of organising the event. I met some wonderful people and it was just a great time together.

 

The young couple running the bush camp, Antonia and Ralph, were delightful. They provided firewood for campfires, cooked a three-course feast for us in camp ovens and Ralph entertained us singing and accompanying himself on guitar after dinner. He even invited me to play and sing. 

Ralph and his camp ovens cooking up a feast - beef and pork

 

On Sunday morning they cooked pancakes for us and served them with honey, maple syrup, butter, whipped cream or jam. As many as you could eat. Ralph said, ”You eat them. We’ll keep them coming”.

We also went for a drive in the Mudlo National Park.

Elain, me and Ismay

Not far from the camp is the Prophet Mine run by John Parsons. We walked up to the mine and John and his son Johnno, took us on a tour and told us all about their work there. It’s not actually a mine. John is re-working the tailings and leftovers from a previous miner. He’s producing and selling gravel for roadworks, stone for building and decorative walls, topsoil for gardening and gold. He has set up a system for separating these various items from the mountains of rubble left by the previous miner.

John Parsons at the Prophet Mine

John and his son demonstrating with a couple of thousand dollars worth of gold

But what blew my mind was the revolutionary discovery he has been involved in with geologists and academics here in Australia and overseas. The microbiological process that reproduces gold. No, it’s not alchemy although it appears the alchemists may have been on to something. They have discovered nano-organisms that produce metals as part of their survival techniques. These discoveries may prove very beneficial in medicine as well as changing the way we view the Universe.  It appears possible that the whole Universe is organic in Nature. Now that’s pretty overwhelming. This is amazing stuff and no it’s not pie in the sky.  I suspect it went over the heads of most of John’s audience. I know I haven’t explained it very well but it is now documented in a number of highly reputable scientific journals. This visit to Prophet Mine was the highlight of my travels so far.

Meanwhile, back in the bush, I walked, read, wrote, chatted, ate, drank and sang. There’s nothing like a campfire to relax and soothe you. 

Just sit and gaze into it

Ismay even produced fresh strawberries and melted chocolate to dip them in. How civilised is that?

Ismay  serving fondu strawberries round the campfire

Ismay even had a go at baking scones in her camp oven. We took turns shaking the cream. Yes, shaken not whipped.

Bill shaking the cream, scones on the fire, Ismay in the background

Ismay and Bill with scones

 

Making music with Jack and Denise

One of the older men had been feeling low all weekend but on the last day he said he felt better and he got out his banjo. He and I had a great jam session and he really perked up. There’s nothing like music to raise your vibrations!!

Sadly the time to leave inevitably arrived. We said goodbye and headed home. Me – I’m heading south with over 2,000 kilometres to go.

MORE ON MUDJIMBA

I had arranged to meet another woman from the A Van Club who also travels alone, and she lives in Mudjimba. I contacted Ismay and invited her out to dinner. We had lots to talk about and a lovely evening. We had also arranged to travel together (tagalong) to a “meet” of a newly formed branch of the A Van Club, who were meeting in Kilkivan, west of Gympie, for a bush camping weekend. That was great but we’ll get to that later. Also attending that “meet” were members of the newly formed single travellers group, lovingly known as the STGs. I just hoped it wasn’t something catching.

So Ismay and I set out with our vans, headed for Kilkivan. Kilkivan is a really interesting town in several ways as I was to discover. On the way, Ismay stopped at a lookout over the ocean near Coolum s I could take some photos. 

Veronica & Ismay at Coolum

There, quite by coincidence,  was an elderly couple that Ismay knew.

Spitfire pilot and truck driver

 

We got talking and I  learnt that he was a spitfire pilot in World War 2 for the RAF and she drove trucks for the RAF. I talked to her about the wonderful women who actually flew the planes to deliver them to the fighter pilots. I had seen a documentary film called “Spitfire Women” about these female pilots. They had to be able to fly every sort of plane because they had to deliver anything that needed delivery. One woman landed the bomber she had delivered and stepped out of the plane to be greeted cheerily with the question “Where’s the pilot?” When she told them she was the pilot, they just laughed and climbed on board looking for the male pilot, thinking it was a joke. But these amazing women flew the planes to the places they were needed and many of them died in the service.  Sadly, their story and their contribution is largely forgotten.

From that chance meeting at the lookout, Ismay and I continued on our way to the bush camp at Kilkivan. And there I had a great five days in the bush with some lovely people. More on that in my next….

  

FURTHER NORTH AND WARMER STILL

After leaving Kingscliff, I had more wonderful times with friends and relatives. A great evening of talking and eating and drinking with Colleen and Garry on their acreage at Tambourine. Two lovely days with cousin, Mary Ruth, much of it spent in her lovely apartment balcony overlooking the Brisbane River watching the sunset and sipping wine. We also set out to visit the Brisbane Art Gallery for a Surrealism exhibition but roadworks had us on so many detours we couldn’t get near it and we gave up. Then lunch overlooking the yachts at Manly with Val and Tricia. Great to catch up with them all.

While In Brisbane, I stayed in a caravan park that was the closest I could find to the CBD. Those that were closer, only took permanent residents. The park I did stay in had more permanent residents than tourists too. I have noticed this phenomenon – more and more people are living in caravan parks as the only affordable alternative. Some of the residences were old broken down caravans with a shack attached. Others were quite palatial and you could tell the owners took great pride in them with gardens and ornaments.

Today I headed north to the Sunshine Coast and am in a caravan park at Mudjimba, between Maroochydor and Noosa. I walked through the bushland to the beach. Beautiful.  Yes, parts of Queensland are close to perfect.

Mudjimba Beach late afternoon looking north

Mudjimba Beach looking south to Maroochydor

Standing on the beach, I looked across at a curiously shaped island, shaped a bit like a whale swimming south. Mudjimba Island – so of course I had to find out about it.

Mudjimba Island (Old Woman Island)

Some research on the Internet told me that  Mudjimba Island is also known as Old Woman Island and is one kilometre from the shore. It’s only accessible by boat. Diehard local surfers have been known to paddle half an hour, over a very deep hole filled with an abundance of marine life to reach the island. Apparently Sean Connory owned it at one time though it’s hard to imagine what on earth for. Another version of the story is that he and Diane Cilento spent their honeymoon night there which would answer the what for question. Apart from that, there’s nothing there except thousands of Shearwaters (mutton birds) that nest there.


An Aboriginal dreamtime story tells of the creation of Mudjimba Island. The story of two  men Coolum and Ninderry and a woman named Maroochy. In a fierce battle Ninderry knocked Coolum’s head from his shoulders into the sea to lie where it is today as Mudjimba Island.

I can hear the crash and roar of the ocean as I sit in the Tardis writing this.Life's good.

GETTING WARMER

The trip from Byron Bay to Kingscliff isn’t very far and I was there around 11 on the morning of 12 July.  I left the car and the Tardis in the street and rang Anne Gabrielle’s door bell. 

“ ‘Allo”, said a very French voice. “C’est Veronique,” I said and she laughed as she let me in. Two kisses, one on each cheek and a big hug. Then we got down to business – the drinking of the champagne. 

Anne Gabrielle lives in a very sweet resort style apartment block. Her apartment is tiny: one bedroom with a bathroom (with washing machine and dryer) and walk in wardrobe, and a living area which includes the kitchen, also tiny. She has an enormous balcony which is really like a large room open at one end because it is roofed over by the floor of the much larger apartment above.  Here she has a dining table and chairs, a day bed and lots of beautiful potted tropical plants.

The view from the balcony is lovely. Her flat is on the first floor so you are looking through palms to the swimming pool that winds its way through the gardens and also includes a spa to the side to the pool and a communal BBQ area.

 

I first met Anne Gabrielle in Brisbane in 1961. I needed a French tutor. At high school, I had gone the Maths and Science route, then gone on to Teachers’ College. I then decided to go to University at night and do an Arts Degree. Turned out I needed a language other than English to qualify for entry. So back to night school to study French. I met Anne Gabrielle at a party. She had just immigrated to Australia with her English husband. We got talking, she offered to tutor me and we’ve been friends ever since. She is now eighty-two and losing her eye sight but still the same person, just a bit frailer.

The next few days were a lovely combination of sightseeing, wining and dining and catch up talks. Bastille Day, 14 July, of course we celebrated in one of the nicest restaurants in Kingscliff, Bablou above the Kingscliff Hotel.  Sarah, one of Anne Gabrielle’s daughters joined us for lunch and we enjoyed it immensely. Lovely food and excellent wine. Not cheap but worth it. And Sarah surprised us by insisting on paying for it.

After lunch, Sarah drove us along a bush track to the mouth of Cudgen Creek which flows through Kingscliff. A lovely spot and I took some photos of the cloud formations over the river. A lovely day and one of several.

Not as sunny as we hoped but a great spot!

Next stop, three kilometres up the road to spend a couple of days with long-time friends from Ocean Grove who now live in Kingscliff, Sue and Yolana.

Saturday 16 July, I left the Tardis outside Anne Gabrielle’s place and headed up the road for a couple of days with Sue and Yolana. I arrived late afternoon and of course that was perfect timing for champagne. Then a lovely Malaysian style dinner (Yolana is an expert at it) and a gentle evening of catching up.

The next day, they were hosting a sit down lunch for 18 people. I was at least able to help with the preparation and table setting etc. The lunch was a tremendous success. Yolana and Sue had prepared so much food, all of it delicious, and all the people were delightful and interesting. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Then of course we had to clean up when they all left but well worth it. We were all pretty tired so it was early to bed and sleep like logs.

Next stop Brisbane.

ALONE AGAIN

Had a great few days with Sharon here. We walked on the beach, sat in the sun, shopped, chatted,  drank coffee, drank wine, solved the world's problems, ate lovely meals, read, relaxed .... aaaaah. Yesterday, we drove to Ballina Airport and Sharon took a plane back to Melbourne. The Tardis seemed a bit empty last night.

So today, plenty of "me time", writing, relaxing but also packing up ready to head up to Kingscliff tomorrow and a few great days with Anne Gabrielle.

But here are  some pictures of the last couple of days. I think Sharon had a good time too.

Sharon outside the Tardis

Sharon enjoying the water