Port Douglas in Far North Queensland has a fascinating, beautiful and well kept cemetery. When walking past the cemetery one tombstone stands out from the rest. That is the one of William Thomson “who went to his death by cruel and treacherous murder”. The farmer William Thomson was murdered by his wife Ellen and her lover John Harrison in 1886. They were both hanged. Ellen was the only woman to be hanged in Queensland. Continue reading Death in Paradise
We’ve spent the night in a quiet and spacious rest area called Barradale in the Pilbara. Surprisingly quiet in fact considering the amount of passing motorists and the road crew who are working on the nearby bridge. I wander over to the facilities and meet a young family who have just stopped. “We’re from Pannawonica” says one little girl “and we’re going to New Zealand. It’s so cold here and Dad got us up at four (am). Would you like to see me do cartwheels?” Her two brothers are doing double jointed tricks and their Dad explains that they’re off … Continue reading Roadside Dunnies
Wyndham, WA is remote in fact it is about as far from Perth as it is from Singapore. It no longer gets newspapers. When the service was stopped they were told that they just don’t buy enough. Over dinner I hear a local declare “I watched the News tonight.” Another replied “Oh I gave up watching TV a long time ago.” I guess what happens in the rest of the world or even in Perth, bears little relevance to the folks out here. In Wyndham especially when you live in a tin bungalow in the tropics over 3000kms away and … Continue reading What’s Happening in the Rest of the World?
Our friend Kay lives in the NSW Southern Highlands. The house is set in 105 acres of bushland garden and farmland and it overlooks a series of lakes. There are black cockatoos of the yellow tailed variety. Rosellas and king parrots squabbling in the garden and swans gliding on the dam. The evening is still but far from quiet as there is a cacophony of voices rising up from the dams, a gaggle of croaks and squawks. As we traipse out of the cosy farm house towards our vans Kay asks us to shake out our shoes. They have deadly … Continue reading Spiders
Fitzroy Crossing, WA is quite small and a good way back from the river but we are later to learn that the town was moved when the bridge was built. We cross the river and stay at the Fitzroy River Lodge which is a charming resort style place offering glamour tents, a hotel and caravan park accommodation in vast expanses of shady lawn. Michael’s 3 Hour Tour The Lodge offers a town and gorge tour and though a little dearer than the Parks tour of the Geikie gorge we decide to take it and our lives are richer for it. … Continue reading Fitzroy Crossing
Now here’s a post that will confuse the heck out of the international readers but a friend recently reminded me of this important pre requisite for senior caravanners most of whom are living with a chronic illness. There is a health programme in Australia called Chronic Disease Management Plan. The advantage of this scheme is a regular visit for a check up by your physician and the chance for you both to discuss your health and the results as determined by the relevant specialists that you are visiting. It is also a chance to get prescriptions for your medications prior … Continue reading Keeping Your Vitals Up To Date
In the Pilbara, especially the iron ore mining towns of Tom Price and Paradurdoo, everything is tinged with red, roads, paths, walls, floors, cars and even the normally white corellas. Continue reading In the Pink
We had just set up in the caravan park at Sawtell on the NSW coast. It was a lovely sunny day, parrots were chattering in the trees and there was the sound of the surf in the distance. A newish motor home pulled in opposite us and all hell broke loose. Tirades of abuse were hurled at the gentleman driving while wife attempted to guide him into the reasonably sized camp site. Campers peered from windows and from behind annexe screens. No one was game to help and certainly not while language like that was being bandied about and so … Continue reading Not Everyone’s Cup of Tea
Warburton’s Bridge is a pleasant camp ground tucked into the hills south of Castlemaine, Vic. There are well made concrete fire pits, those good ones with a hot plate that swings over the fire. There is a toilet as well. The first camp sites don’t have a view of the river as it is quite overgrown but it is only a short walk further into the camp ground for a paddle. When we stayed, there was phone reception from the hill behind the toilet. The best access on a good made road is from either Chewton or Guildford. The local … Continue reading Warburton’s Bridge
It is late June and there are so many RV’s heading north on the Stuart Highway that it could be described as a stream. We’re heading south because I’ve broken my ankle and Woody keeps complaining that he’s sick of waving and wants a plastic hand on the dash board. In fact southbound we’ve only passed an old bloke collecting aluminium cans, a backpacker whiz bang and a fellow an idiot on a bicycle. I text my old boss to wish him a Happy Birthday and he tells me that his Dad is camped at the Marbles. We drive in and … Continue reading A Bloke Called Mahoney
