Australia - Part 13

With Glenn sent safely on his way their options in Airlie Beach were a little light and strangely having rejected the most obvious – getting molitored in a local bar – they decided to rent a car and drive down to the Eungella National Park. Over our subject’s objections they insisted on renting a Mini-Moke for the monstrously long drive down the Bruce Highway.

With the car rented the girl explained that it was a term of the rental that they could not go more than 100 kilometres from the base. Eungella is about 180 km from Airlie.

Undeterred they set off nonetheless and were quickly hurtling down the motorway in a totally inappropriate vehicle. The vehicle would have been inappropriate if it was in prime condition but seeing as it was carrying one or two technical MOT failures it was even more fun (the collapsed suspension, seized rear brake drum and bald tyres being the highlights). Despite this through some careful nurturing and two quick mechanical stops (of the lump hammer hitting school of engineering) they managed to reach the end of the metalled road leading to the Fitch Hatton Gorge.

The car abandoned and with no idea of how much further they had to go they set off on the rarely travelled track up into the rainforest equipped most practically with 2 litres of water, some factor 15 sun cream and sandals/flip-flops.

It quickly became apparent that the lack of a metalled road was the least of their problems as they hiked up into the mountains and found ford after ford which would have swept the vehicle away had it attempted the passage. Several miles into the rainforestthey stopped off at a pool apparently “guaranteed” to provide sightings of Platypus. Safe to say it did not live up to its promise, although it did provide a terrapin.

Many miles further on they eventually came to the Araluen Cascades with some very fine fauna enjoying a paddle in the pool under the falls.

With the light beginning to fade they decided to get back to their vehicle and trekked back down through the jungle, spotting a Wallaby with a joey in her pouch on they way.

Hoonering back up the Bruce highway shook them to pieces again although with the hood down that was the least of the problems as they got beaten around the head by 100 kilometre winds.

Their last night in Airlie was a vaguely quiet affair with Boris being the one to be falling asleep early this time round and after a few beers and sambucas in Beaches surrounded by 18 year old girls they decided to call it a night.