After another hiatus in our travels, working too hard and getting bogged down by the hum drum of a nine-to-five, Rob and I decided it was time for a break from the rat race. Rob had leave, and I was at a point where work wouldn’t miss me if I took a few days off, so this was the perfect excuse to book a mini-break and take advantage of those air miles I’ve been accumulating. Air tickets booked, and we were headed to the Queensland coast of Australia, more commonly referred to as ‘Stralia or Straya, for a good ol’ summer roadie.

Day 1

Departure day arrived, and we were up at 04h15 to catch the ever convenient SkyBus to Auckland International Airport. A painless check-in (being an elite airpoints member has its benefits), a stroll through passport control, and on to the business lounge where Rob was introduced to the flash life of the Air New Zealand international lounge. An uneventful flight saw us land in Brisbane, and the heat and humidity were a welcome relief from the generally milder (read colder) temperatures of Auckland. A quick phone call and we were picked up and whisked off in a Jucy shuttle bus to pick up our camper van. After a brief intro to the merits of our Jucy “Crib” – a converted Toyota people carrier – we started our journey north, first having to navigate the unexpected midday traffic out of Brisbane, toward our first destination for the night, Maryborough.

Although we got our fill of breakfast fare in the airport lounge before leaving Auckland, we didn’t eat on the flight, and we were starving by the time we hit the road. Desperation made us stop at Straya’s version of Burger King aka Hungry Jacks where we gorged on typical processed hamburgers, chips, nuggets, Coke and an ice-cream. Tummies filled with crap and we were good to continue, although the first half of the drive up was a relatively quiet one in terms of convo, as Rob the designated driver got used to driving the Camper, which will be referred to in future as The Tank. After not driving for months on end (the benefits of living in a city with all amenities within walking distance) and when we did rent a car to venture into the country, Suzuki Swifts or Mitsubishi Mirages were cars of choice, so driving a people carrier in city traffic took some getting used to. We did have to appreciate the Queensland governments attempts at road safety, being creative in ways to keep drivers awake along the state highway by offering free coffee at rest stops and posting trivia questions on road signs along the route. Makes a welcome change from playing car cricket and “I spy”! We arrived in Maryborough in the early afternoon, after about 260km of driving. Although not far from Brisbane in distance, we were feeling a little weary considering the early start and the 3-hour time difference from home. The principality was not much to look at as we approached the outskirts, but the town itself is colonially quaint, with the “CBD” retaining its early day charm. Our chosen accommodation for the night was advertised as a “boutique” RV park on the wharf of the Mary river, but first impressions were that this was the place where retired boaties brought their yachts (and possibly themselves) to die a slow death. There was nothing boutique about the place, but it was a good first stop, the staff and the townsfolk were welcoming and friendly. The Tank parked neatly next to the river, we changed into shorts (a shock to the system as I haven’t quite gotten to the point of thinking NZ weather warrants a pair of shorts) and slops (thongs or jandals depending on where you are in the world) and took a stroll through the town to buy some supplies. Our first thought, it wasn’t yet 4pm but the town was pretty much shut down for the day. All the shops in the centre of town were closed, no cars parked on the streets, and minimal people around. This gave us ample opportunity to wander around and admire the many murals adorning the buildings in town. Maryborough is the birthplace of the author of Mary Poppins, so I got the requisite picture next to the statue of the famous nanny, located in front of the house where the authoress was born. Our RV park was also located adjacent to the heritage-listed Queens Park, which has a touching tribute to the soldiers who lost their lives in Gallopili, with hidden motion-sensor speakers broadcasting the chilling sound of thousands of soldiers’ marching feet as you stroll along the path. After enjoying some sundowners in a local pub, listening to the chatter of some local farmers who had come into town to enjoy a cold pint after a hot day, we grabbed a takeaway pizza for dinner and sat in the park watching the bats come out for the night, also in search of their nightly meal, before settling in for the night in the Tank.

When Rob and I first spoke about heading over to Straya for a holiday (long before this roadie was even a thought), we’ve always been a bit hesitant, knowing that the country was home to a multitude of things that could ultimately kill you. Lethal snakes, spiders, crocs, sharks, never mind the big fat hole in the ozone layer, to name a few. So, we clearly weren’t thinking straight when we booked our camper knowing that we’d be spending every night of our holiday in a nature area of some kind, where our chances of an animal encounter would be more likely. And of course, Straya didn’t disappoint. I’m not a huge fan of anything reptilian or anything with four or more legs that doesn’t bark, so hearing and seeing the frogs that congregated around the bathroom did nothing for me as their toady eyes stared me down with a look that said “I’ll be waiting for you when you walk over for your nightly wee”. I did insist we pack our torches so we could at least see where we were placing our feet after the sun had gone down for the day. But tiredness, and a general lack of forethought meant that for our first night, the torches were in the bottom of the bag, and of course, nature came calling and a midnight walk to the loo was necessary. Groggily we clambered out of the Tank, and as it was a full moon (and the lights were on in the amenities building) we walked over, me keeping my eyes peeled for those blasted frogs but luckily, they had gone back to their holes for the night. Business done, we walked back to the Tank, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw something that looked a little out of place on a drainpipe next to me. Yep, you guessed it… our first night in Straya and our first snake within striking distance. I don’t think I’ve reacted so quickly ever in my life, jumping to the side, pulling Rob out of harms way, heart in mouth. I almost had to turn around and head back to the toilet considering I pretty much shat myself! Our neighbouring campers probably wondered what the hell was going on as we almost ran back to the Tank, making so much noise with our feet to scare off any other slithering serpents that may be in the vicinity. Needless to say, the torches were never far way each night following that, and Rob did a very thorough scan of the ground before even setting foot out of the Tank. Paranoid maybe, but still!

Day 2

One of the other great things about Queensland (aside from being warm!) is the state does not observe daylight savings, so it was light at 6am in the morning. Nature is one of the best alarm clocks and having a gentle wake up by the sound of chirping birds, instead of the alarm of a mobile phone, is a relaxing way to start the day. Speaking of birds, Rob was in absolute heaven with the variety of birds around and spent many a happy hour bird spotting and trying to get that perfect shot as we meandered around on our roadie. I haven’t actually made the effort to check the names of all the species we saw, but there were a lot! A breakfast of muesli and milk was followed by a slow drive out of town as we continued our way north. The first half of the drive was to a small town of Gin Gin. Being ones to take the road less travelled, we turned off the secondary road we were one, and pointed the Tank onto a narrow back country road. This resulted in some white knuckle driving by Rob as passing oncoming vehicles meant having to move over from the single lane tar road onto a gravel verge – no issues for the drivers of the 4×4 vehicles passing us, one hand on the steering wheel, the other casually hanging out the window lifted in greeting (told you these folks were friendly) while poor Rob was glued in the 10 and 2 o’clock position! Arriving in Gin Gin (voted at one point the friendliest town in Queensland, although it seems every town we passed through was voted friendliest town at some point – maybe they take turns?), we stopped for a bio break and a pie and coffee before making our way to our stop for the next two days, Agnes Water. When starting our planning, we did consider travelling further north (we were thinking Townsville) but realized we just didn’t have the time… did you know Straya was so big??? The drive felt much like driving through Kwa-Zulu Natal back home in South Africa, the same temperate climate and similar vegetation eventually making way for thousands of square meters of sugarcane fields. Rob was obsessed with kangaroos, and every few minutes came the question “you see a roo yet?” – trying to spot a kangaroo in the Australian bush is like trying to spot a buck in the Kruger National Park travelling at 100km/hr i.e. not very easy. We did have to appreciate the quirks of the area, like speed signs randomly placed, just in case you forgot what speed the sign posted 50m further back denoted, and the naming conventions of the various creeks and gullies we crossed over, like Jackass Creek, Chinamans Creek (is PC a thing in Queensland?), Rocky Creek and 500m later, Stony Creek, and 7, 8 and 10 Mile Creek – we missed 9 Mile Creek but then again maybe we were too busy roo spotting to notice it. On an aside, we realized much later during this little roadie that instead of looking in the bush for roos all we had to do was look in people’s back yards!

Our drive first took us up to Seventeen Seventy, the place where Captain Cook first landed in Queensland in the year 1770 (who would have thought). Although the inlet itself was calm, the windward side of the peninsula was a different story, with the sea state whipped up into a froth of white horses as a result of the cyclone hovering just off shore. The wind was pumping, so holding onto our hats we went down to the beach and took our first steps into the Coral Sea.

We left the actual swimming for later until after we checked into our flash campsite for the night at Agnes Water, located right at the end of a long white sandy beach of a protected bay and Queensland’s northern most surf beach. After a walk into town for supplies, we were hot and sticky and in desperate need of a swim, and after a 4-year absence, it was absolute bliss to be able to swim in the sea again, waves and all, without freezing our bums off. I found my happy place again in Agnes Water, the sun, the smell of the salty air, the sound of the pounding waves so good for my soul! I even managed to get Rob to lie on the beach and just relax watching the surfers and paddleboarders playing in the water. That night, we fell asleep content!

Day 3

Bright and early and after a rejuvenating coffee, the day started with a long walk on the beach with the rest of the morning spent on the beach, swimming, attempting to body surf the waves and generally taking it easy. Luckily, we found a shady spot, as our pasty white skin just can’t take the sun, even with SPF 50+ sunscreen plastered on. A midday walk into town for lunch was followed by the usual afternoon siesta, and it was then the afternoon’s mission to spot a roo. After some enquiries we were told there was a circular drive just outside town where roos often spend their afternoons wallowing in the shade to escape the afternoon heat. So, we packed ourselves up and headed out for a bit of exploring of the locality. First stop was another beach called Chinamans beach, deserted considering the rough seas. The first thing that greets you as you reach the beach is the multitude of warning signs – stingers, dangerous surf, shallow rock, submerged rock and rip currents. I feel like the sign should have said “Welcome to Straya! If our wildlife doesn’t kill you, our beaches surely will”. But being ever so considerate, the beaches even display the Do’s and Don’ts of surfing behaviour. If the surfers pay attention to this code of conduct, who knows, but talking of this back home with our boot camp instructor (who’s a keen surfer himself), he said they need this sign in Piha where apparently it’s a free for all for surfers dropping in on each other (a surfing felony if there ever was one).

Back along the same road, passing a dead snake that some good Samaritan kindly ran over, and dodging a monitor lizard crossing the road (I’m sensing a bad joke here) we headed inland and gawped like tourists as we spotted our first mob of roos casually hanging out in someone’s driveway. It was a good day of roo spotting, with about 20 or so lazing about, munching on grass. We also took a trip up to Horizons Kangaroo Sanctuary where the “owner” takes in orphaned roos brought to him from various locations, but he was more interested in mouthing off the government than providing an educational experience, so it was with relief we escaped after having a close encounter of the marsupial kind. Speaking of marsupials, another sighting we were really hoping for during our trip was one of the koala bear, and although seeing plenty of signs warning us that “koalas cross here”, there were none to be seen. Wombats were absent too, much to my disappointment.

Day 4

Time to leave beach paradise so after a hearty breakfast in the beachside café of the holiday park, we packed up and hit the road to Bundaberg. We were planning on only staying one night in Agnes Water as we had trip planned from Bundaberg to the barrier reef for a day of snorkeling and sunshine, but because of the ever-present cyclone causing unfavourable sea conditions, the trip was cancelled so we ended up staying a second night in Agnes. Anyways, our trip South had us in Bundaberg by mid-morning and in time to join the 11am tour of the Bundaberg rum distillery. Our tour guide Damien, or Damo, was enthusiastic and informative as he took us through the process of producing this world class rum, from taking molasses (syrup gone wrong) all the way through the distillation process to result in the end product – billions of dollars’ worth of which is currently housed in the distillery surrounded by some serious electric fencing. It was surprising to hear that only 1% of the rum is exported outside of the Australia and New Zealand region. We got to sample some of which is kept in the distillery, and had a tasting choice of both a rum, as well as a liqueur. Not a fan of hard tack, I had my rum watered down with cola and still couldn’t take it so that part was kind of wasted on me. But although the liqueur straight was a bit heavy, the dark chocolate and coffee undertones would go really well drizzled over a scoop of vanilla ice cream! The only souvenir was a box of coffee and chocolate rum fudge from the gift shop!

After the distillery, we continued through the town to Port Bundaberg, ending up in the small holiday hamlet of Burnett Heads, located on the southern head of the Burnett river mouth where it joins the Coral Sea. The wind made our short overnight stay here rather unpleasant, and in hindsight we wouldn’t have stopped here if we knew beforehand of the adverse weather conditions. When I called the holiday park the day before, the caretaker said there was “a bit of a breeze” – if I knew that her definition of a breeze was in line with gale force wind, we would have continued and given the place a miss. Aside from a few shops, and shut up holiday houses, there was absolutely nothing to do here. A short walk around town to find some lunch confirmed this fact, so we whiled away the afternoon snoozing in the Tank, with roos in the neighbouring field for company. We also took a long walk to the neighbouring marina and enjoyed a sunset gin and tonic in the bar watching some brave (or rather stupid) yachts making their way back into the marina before walking back and guzzling chicken sandwiches and hunkering down for the night.

Day 5

To add our avian alarm clock, we awoke to the sound of rain hammering the roof of the Tank. In between showers, we packed up and drove off. The benefit of a camper… no need to pull down a tent to decamp – its just a matter of folding the bed away, moving the chairs and you’re good to go. We first stopped in Mon Repos, the turtle nesting beach, but although we were in nesting season there was no activity at the turtle centre because firstly, it was morning, and secondly, the cyclone had pushed the tide way up the beach and all turtle excursions had been cancelled. We did take a stroll along the beach, and it looked like there was some evidence of nesting judging by the tracks on the sand, but for us it was a case of “next time” when hopefully the weather would play nice. Continuing, we stopped in the small town of Howard for a breakfast of champions of a pie and coffee, and the rain showers gradually lessened, eventually ceasing all together as we arrived in Hervey Bay. Settling in camp right on the beach in Scarness, we walked to the shops, dodging guano bombs from the fruit bats hanging in the trees lining the footpath, and watching dolphins frolic in the bay. Hervey Bay is also home to one of the longest piers I’ve ever been aware of, Urangan Pier. Stretching out almost 1km into the Great Sandy Straight between Fraser Island and the mainland it was a key feature in the early exporting days of sugar and coal. Hervey Bay again reminded us of being on the south coast of KwaZulu-Natal, typical coastal towns which have grown exponentially so there is no clear differentiation between the different urban zones. It was lovely to see people taking advantage of the almost 14km long esplanade, with yoga and tai chi being practiced in the parks in the early morning. The only disappointment was noting yellow plastic buckets tacked to the walls of public toilets, urging users to place their syringes in them, instead of leaving them lying around. One highlight though – the amount of ice cream available, one shop offering gelato made in the Queensland hinterland, another shop offering a whopping 72 flavours to choose from (I mean, how do you make a choice?).

Day 6: Awake at sparrows fart, excited at the prospect of a day out on Fraser Island, we took a bus transfer to River Heads and caught the Fraser Island barge to put-put over to Kingfisher Bay. From there we met our ever-engaging tour guide for the day, climbed on the monster truck which was to be our trusty steed as we navigated over the sandy tracks to the various sites of the day. After a bumpy first hour, the first stop was Eulong Bay on the seaward side of the island, where we took the “on-ramp” to nature’s own island highway, 75-mile beach. As we sped along the sand, we saw how much the recent storm had battered the coastline with the weather pushing the waves so high up the beach we had to hug the dunes and, in some cases, even detour off the beach. One such occasion had us bumping over the “coffee rocks”, rock-like material caused by thousands of years of compression of the island vegetation, all done in crawl gear as our truck bucked and slid across the rocks while our guide/driver calmly chatted away as if this was all in a day’s work. The dodgy track proved to be no issue for trusty bus #9.

The tour included multiple stops, including the Pinnacles, an area of coloured sand, the Maheno shipwreck, and the freshwater Eli Creek with the drive made entertaining by the ongoing commentary from our guide. Although Rob and I didn’t quite appreciate the hour-long narrative on the 11 deadliest species of snake present on the island, and how one unfortunate camper was bitten in his sleeping bag (or that’s what was surmised considering that’s how his corpse was found). This little story meant an extra-long sweep of the torch along the ground on the way to the bathroom that night! The nerve-wracking crossing of the coffee rocks on the return trip was made extra special though, as we spotted two dingoes trotting along the side of the track. We were told that the dingo is now a pure-breed again on the island. These cunning kin of the wolf have even figured out how to overcome the cattle grids at the entrance of each settlement, so the grids are now electrified to prevent dingoes entering the various locations. There is a strong dingo awareness programme in place, with our guide explaining what to do if we do have an encounter and the conservationists have started a tagging programme to show each dingo’s level of interaction with a human. Red on a tag is the human equivalent of death row – one more strike and that particular dingo is history.

A disappointing lunch back at Eulong Bay was followed by a drive to Central Station, the logging headquarters of an enterprising bloke called McKenzie who set up the island’s forestry operations. Last stop of the day is the one we were looking forward to the most, and that was Lake McKenzie, a natural freshwater lake containing only rainwater. Sand and vegetation at the base of the lake prevent the water draining away, and the water is also slight acidic so there is no aquatic life at all. The sand surrounding the lake is also the softest, powdery white sand ever. Our kind guide gave us some time for a swim, which we thoroughly enjoyed, and as a result we were now running late to catch the last barge back to the mainland. We took off at speed, and after a rushed and sometimes stomach-churning drive, we caught the barge back across the strait, canned Bundaberg rum and coke in hand enjoying the sunset.

Day 7 and 8

Having finished off in Hervey Bay on a high, it was time to head to our final stop of the roadie, Noosa Heads. We took a detour to Rainbow Beach, another lovely holiday town just south of the most southern tip of Fraser Island. Tired of the main drag, the navigator (aka Kirsten) directed the Tank onto a new route, which ended up being a test of navigation skills as I took us on a pretty but severely corrugated dirt road, which tested the Tanks shock absorbers o the max. Our drive took us through the backwaters of Noosa, and we arrived in the coastal hub by lunchtime. By now Rob was feeling a bit weary from all the driving, having covered almost 1000km to date, so we decided to spend the last two nights in a campsite located right on the Noosa river. I can’t say I’m too enamoured with Noosa, finding it a bit too commercial and busy for my taste. Very touristy, with boutique shops lining the main drag in town, I felt out of place amongst the young and the beautiful – even the school kids were eating trendy acai bowls as their after-school lunch. The amount of traffic as we walked from the campsite into town to the beach was enough to give me a headache. A friend quite aptly compared Noosa to Marmite (or Vegemite to the plebs) – you either love it or you hate it! By now my slops/thongs/jandals had given me blisters from all the walking we had done over the last week, so I was happy to park in my camp chair on the river bank, the lumbering pelicans taking flight and hunting for their afternoon snacks providing our afternoon entertainment. Our last day was split up into a morning on the main beach trying to avoid being pummeled by the dumping waves, Rob getting one of the most serious sunburns ever (No, I won’t get burnt before 10am in the morning he says), having the most delicious teriyaki beef burger for lunch, packing up and getting the Tank ready for delivery back to Jucy headquarters tomorrow, and finally enjoying a wonderful family reunion between Rob and one of his many cousins, Lance and his family in the evening. Rob and Lance hadn’t seen each other for about 13 or so years so listening to two of the Jennings men reminiscing and reconnecting was a happy end to a great trip.

Day 9

Day 9 dawned and it was a two-hour drive back to Brisbane, to catch our mid-morning flight back home. Although we won’t do that type of camper van trip again (maybe one slightly bigger next time!), the trip proved to be a great introduction to only some of the delights that Queensland has to offer. Being both our first time in Australia (my previous work trips don’t count), this little roadie wetted our appetite for more, and can guarantee that this will not be the last Straya trip – we’ll be back, snakes and all!

Final road trip tally:

• Snakes = 3 alive, 2 dead
• Spiders = 0 alive, heaps of horror stories
• Roos = too many to mention
• Koalas = a disappointing 0
• Wombats = 0
• Birds = plenty (even a few sea eagles)
• Bats = lots
• Dolphins = 2
• Blisters = 2
• Sunburn = 1 stomach