I woke in Proserpine to steady rain and high humidity which the locals assured me was unseasonal. Nothing rustles in this humid environment.
50kms north of Townsville, the rain stopped, the sky turned blue and the temperature leapt from 22 degrees to 30 degrees C where it stayed for the rest of the day.
I rode into Bowen for breakfast at the Horseshoe Bay Cafe, and was greeted with scenes like this:
I did have my fruit Liz, in the form of sliced strawberries on thick white French Toast with health syrup.
Riding around Bowen with my summer gloves on, jacket undone, visor up, all liners removed and thermals packed away, the mighty GS purring quietly (due to BMW engineering and my efficient earplugs), Raybans doing their job, warm air flowing therapeutically over me, it occurred to me that to describe this would take a really long sentence. Seems I was right.
I have finally left the gravitational pull of Victoria. I am in a different place.
But believe it or not, that miserable Bruce Highway, notwithstanding its close proximity to coast like this to inspire it could only manage dust, brown grass, occasional uninteresting trees and pretty ordinary hills. This highway just doesn’t try.
However the girls at the Gumlu Fruit and Vege Chev try and succeed, and provided a bargain priced banana and a chat.
This was in contrast to a morning tea I had in a very small town south of Rockhampton the other day. Having established that a bus load of tourists had bought all the fresh apple pies (I wasn’t going to eat one Liz, I was going to bring it home for you), I ordered a black tea and a banana. “That’ll be a dollar and five cents,” I was told, in a tone which dissuaded me from entering negotiations with a view to rounding down to the nearest dollar. An excellent banana was produced after payment, together with a mug of black tea. After refusing sugar, and clarifying that the sort of black tea I wanted was without milk, I was asked if it was strong enough. I nodded affirmatively, and the server picked up the tea bag, strained it between forefinger and thumb into my cup, and took it out the back. I don’t know whether they peg them out to dry or have them dry cleaned for re-use or what, but $1.05 buys only a banana and the use of the tea bag at that establishment. It seemed that property in the tea bag did not pass to me upon payment as I had supposed it might. Tea bag hire I suppose you could call it. I must look into this.
As I approached Townsville, the mountains to the west suddenly became spectacular, and the sights more interesting. A steady 15-20 knot sou-easterly blows in from the sea for most of winter from what I can gather, and when that moisture hits the mountains it creates mist, low stratus and rain which affects the aesthetics and vegetation in the immediate area, in a good way.
Then north to more blue skies, which can make even the old Bruce Highway look tolerable.
I decided to stop and have a closer look at one of the roadside memorials to traffic accident victims. The white posts outnumber them up here, but not by a lot.
His name was Nick, and this is how some of those close to him chose to honour his memory.
It was a sad site, in many ways.
On to Townsville and a cabin looking over the sea to Magnetic Island.
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| The GS parked outside the reception office of the caravan park where I stayed in Townsville |
Caught up with John and Heather (tanned nomads) who decided Townsville was preferable to Geelong for the winter. Who could argue with that?
Thanks for lunch, breakfast and good company.
Now this is what I call a swimming pool. Northcote heated outdoor pool, even with its ducks, suddenly appears, well, less.
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| Solar heated seawater pool |
Castle Hill is in the middle of Townsville. Views of and from respectively.
North today to Cairns and possibly beyond.
(This was written yesterday, and posted today)
