Simon & Caroline's World Tour 07/08

Ok, so walking barefoot around the wet campsite probably wasn’t the wisest thing to do, especially considering the fact we were only about 5km from those leech warning signs from yesterday. However, there’s nothing quite like a leech attached to your ankle to wake you up, really give you the willies, make you scream like a little girl then never be able to look at wet grass the same again. Before you wonder, no I didn’t cut it off my leg (the knife wasn’t handy at the time), several determined flicks finally detached it from it’s dinner, and a photo of it on my leg would’ve been good, but even I sometimes have other things on my mind.
With that excitement over, the route continued north and back to the beaches, taking us through miles of forest and grazing land, and even though we’ve only scratched inland a little, it starts to make you realise how big a country Australia is. En route was the little village of Maclean, an oasis of Scotland next to the huge Clarence River. Each lamppost had a tartan painted on it and the butchers sold square sausage, now that’s something Caroline just can’t pass by!

All this beach life hasn’t left us eager to find the next stretch of golden sands, so the detour this time is a bit larger than normal and taken us inland to explore the mountains and rainforests. The road weaved up the mountain into the approaching rain until we were in the cloud itself, and couldn’t see further than the next bend. Passing waterfalls in full flow (it is called the Waterfall Way after all), we arrived at the Dorrigo Rainforest, and it definitely had both components in abundance. The walkway out into the canopy promised views over the valley, but the cloud had other ideas. Heeding the warning of leeches at the walk entrance, sandals and shorts were changed to shoes and trousers in an attempt to keep yet another animal from taking our blood. (Fortunately there was only one little critter and it was confused by a sock, but did start heading down into my shoe before a quick flick!).
So tonight we’re at a slightly different campsite than normal, a field at the top of the hill in the rain, which was not expected this morning as we woke to blistering sunshine, but it’s good to have a change, and we’ll appreciate that beach more when our route takes us back. We’ve also learnt that pop-top canvas isn’t waterproof, and neither is the seal when it’s shut. The bolts have been tightened, so hopefully that trickling water I can hear as I type is on the outside…

Sometimes you just have to visit somewhere because it’s got a funny name, and Australia is certainly providing that, today was Hat Head National Park, a little rocky outcrop that didn’t look like a hat to me, but as always my hat was on, so I had a hat head. The drive to the park was the best bit, turning off the highway, the road wound through lush flat green land, with a huge river to one side, it was like driving through the Cotswolds. As abruptly, the landscape changed back to the more familiar sand dunes and endless stretches of beaches!
To get a better look at said beaches, the lighthouse at Cape Smoky (named by Captain Cook as he passed in 1770, because the forest was on fire – there’s no magic to this naming malarkey!) provided excellent views, along with our first sighting of a wild kangaroo!

The morning greeted us with a fine day for messing about on the river, so that’s what we did. Motoring out around the islands and past the oyster farms was a treat, topped off by spotting a couple of dolphins frolicking in the bay. Mooring the damn thing was a different matter. Approaching our selected beach, I cut the engine and hoped to drift to the shore, but the tidal current had other ideas and we drifted towards another boat. With not a thought for the clothes I was wearing, or the wallet in my pocket, I jumped into the water of unknown depth and fell backwards. With only my pride dented, shorts and content wet, the boat was on the shore. Pity it kept drifting off in the current.
The next stop was much more like it, easily moored up, pelicans nearby and a rope swing over the water, my faith in boating was semi-restored.
Finally, and I don’t mean to go on about the mozzies, but they seem to be attracted to repellent and are literally biting through clothes to get to the skin, I mean what are we meant to do?

As we are tourists, it seemed only right to take the tourist lakes way drive, and who could turn down a detour to Seal Rocks. Only thing was the route involved 2km of “unsealed road”. As we bounced and rattled along the road, worrying for the integrity of the van, screws literally fell out of their holes. Seal Rocks itself was a nice little spot, much too busy given the road, and devoid of seals. As we swam/cleaned ourselves in the sea, there was always that concern about the warning sign to fishermen of the fine if a great white shark was caught, what about the swimmers?!
The second detour of the day was to Cape Hawke, named by Captain Cook himself (they’ve got a plaque to prove it). The walk to the summit was rewarded with a viewing platform taking you above the trees for views for miles in all directions.
The campsite tonight is positive luxury: showers, laundry, swimming pool and power for the microwave so we can have popcorn whilst watching the DVD – heaven!

Actually make that 4. Yes siree that’s 4 beaches visited today. Ah it’s a hard life! All made easy thanks to the beauty of our campervan. We’re like nomadic snails carrying our home on our back wherever we go. Feeling a bit sandy / salty after the beach? Just get the camelpack out for a shower (thanks Mel!) and then change in the van. Feeling a bit peckish? Just pull into a picnic site, open up the van and make lunch in the kitchen. Sweet. Yes, ok maybe my enthusiasm for the van today is due to the fact that we spend some time apart last night (too much of a good thing and all that…)
So beach number 1; Stockton. Nah sorry, the guidebook was wrong – it wasn’t all that! The washed up lumps of coal and dead stingrays did not make for a very appetising pre-breakfast stroll. We ditched that idea and went for a swim in the pool instead. Quite frankly we are used to a much better standard of beach. And beach number 2 was bang on the mark. Birubi beach had the beautiful golden sand, the inviting turquoise waters and sand dunes to rival Westport- bonus! We passed on the 4WD and camel tours, opting instead to hike up the dunes and then run at breakneck speed back down. What fun.
Next up was Tea Gardens and Hawks Nest with the promise of urban Koalas and dolphins. No sign of either so we had to make do with beach number 3 and a bit of a surf before heading further up the coast and towards our camping destination for tonight. And so we drove into the Myall Lake National Park where Si, who was feeling a little crowded by the bustle of the caravan holiday parks that have been home for the previous few nights, was hoping for a more rural camping adventure. Not far into the park we stopped to climb a few more sand dunes (it looked like something out of star wars – pretty cool!) at the top we were rewarded with stunning view of gorgeous deserted beaches, which of course we had to explore.
Finally we arrived at our designated camp site, where the only things to identify it as thus were a few other campers and an eco toilet! No office and shop? No amenities block? We’re really going to rough it to the max. Well, after our sparkling red wine and dinner of Chinese beef stir fry that is. Tonight’s wildlife: dingoes!

Leaving Canton Beach behind (yet to find the actual beach mind you) we continued north, and started to wonder if the pioneers had begun to run out of town names. There’s a definite feel of a northerner missing home with towns such as Newcastle, Hexham, Gateshead and Stockton (almost laid out correctly too), and also the lets call a spade-a-spade with “the hill”. Also in that category was our lunch stop – Redhead, a red sandstone cliff/head with sandy beach stretching off into the distance. Made for a good beach walk, and also gave us the chance to help a beached fish (all 3 inches of it!) back into the water – must be the opposite of a swimmer getting caught in a rip current! Mel, I hope you’re proud of us!
This also marks a special day as we’re leaving the Sydney section of the guidebook that has been keeping us busy for the past 4 months, and moving on to the crisp clean pages of the New South Wales section (thanks to Fee and K – the guidebook has been serving us well!)
Campsite for the night is Stockton, across the river (Hunter, not Tyne) from Newcastle, and right next to the beach. It’s not really a beach for boarding on (although I did try!), but the breakwater nearby has a nice wreck attached, and pelicans sitting on lampposts waiting for the fishermen below to just turn their backs for a few minutes. As we’ve been in the van every night so far, we treated ourselves to the night life of Newcastle, New South Wales’ second city – hardly bustling but then it is only Tuesday!
Hot tourist fact for the day: Newcastle NSW, like the original is a prolific coal mining area, helping it shifting the most tonnage of any port in Australia. At any given time there’s a multitude of ships just off the coast waiting to be filled. (We thought it was a mass exodus from Sydney, but there you go)

Today was a little backtack as the campsite was a bit further north than we’d expected. After a coffee at the little surfing cove of Blue Bay, we made for Bulgandry Aboriginal site, with ancient rock carvings in the exposed rock. From there, we bounced along the potholed roads to Ocean beach for a swim and bodyboard, later noticing the lighthouse in the distance was Palm Beach. With the wonders of GPS, it turns out we were only 10km from it, and only 32km from Sydney, after about 300km of driving! Best get a move on!