Horse riding at Cape Trib

I wasn't the kind of girl who was really into horses when I was growing up, but on the very few occasions that I've had an opportunity to ride a horse in the last dozen years, I've loved it.  It's a special treat and, since Cape Tribulation is a special place, I decided to shell out.  It was a perfect Cape Trib experience; through the rainforest then straight out onto the breathtakingly gorgeous Myall Beach, back into the forest where we stopped for a refreshing dip in a natural swimming hole, then across some farmland and back to the stables. Alfie, my horse, was lovely and easy to ride.  It was a joyful couple of hours.

To Cape Tribulation

For someone with a great fondness for both trees and water, Cape Tribulation was an obvious destination.  It is the only place in the world where two World Heritage areas exist side by side: the Daintree Rainforest and the Great Barrier Reef.  I was desperate to see both.

Given that I don't drive, the only way for me to get up there was to join a tour. There are plenty of one day options that go from Port Douglas.  I picked the only one that would allow me to split it in two: go up with the morning of one tour, spend a couple of nights up there and come back with the afternoon of another tour.

The tour with better than I'd expected, largely due to an excellent guide.  The first activity was a croc-spotting cruise on the Daintree River.  I didn't learn anything more than on the Mary River cruise during the Top End Tour, but we did get a good look at both a very big (4m) croc and a tiny baby one, which was cool.  And the river itself was no bad place to spend an hour:

The next stop was for an interpretive rainforest walk.  The forest here was denser than on Hinchinbrook and although I really getting into the thick of it on the Island, as opposed to a boardwalk here, it was good to have a guide to tell us about the different trees and animals around us:

Port Douglas

Heading back north from Cardwell, I had to spend another night in Cairns, which I continued to dislike and couldn't wait to get out of the next day.

Port Douglas, an hour further north, was a joy in comparison and would have been a joy even without comparison. I like it immediately. It is the place in Australia with most millionaires per capita and it feels suitably classy, not to mention expensive. I was still pretty tired from my exertions on Hinchinbrook and so spent a happy afternoon pottering around the town, eating lunch on Four Mile Beach, watching birds in Anzac Park, and soaking up the unhurried environment that comes from being in a tropical Far North Queensland. And just when I thought the day couldn't get any better, I found a hotel screening the French Open on a big outdoor screen. Happy times!

A note about dates

When I first started writing this blog, the dates of the posts corresponded to the date I actually wrote/posted them. Around the time I went off on the Annapurna Circuit, I got hopelessly behind with blogging and am still yet to catch up.

Starting with my posts about Australia, I have been altering the post options so that the date that appears with each entry corresponds to the date that I actually did the activity, not the date that I wrote about it. This post, for example, is being written on July 15th, but is dated June 1st as that is the point that I'm currently up to in terms of recounting my adventures.

I have been handwriting a daily journal plus have a good memory for what I've been doing and how I felt about it, so writing accurately about what I did a month and a half ago isn't be a problem.

Hinchinbrook: Day 4

I was woken at 4am by the sound of rain pounding down on my tent and the consequent realisation that the clothes I'd left out to dry would be anything but. I had been warned that the tent I'd been lent was not waterproof on the bottom and I was swimming in the evidence of that being true (the big piece of thick plastic that I brought to lay under the tent proved thoroughly ineffective). I've no doubt that the sight of me attempting to squeeze myself and all my belongs onto my tiny sleeping mat would have appeared comical to anyone watching, but it didn't seem so funny to me.

Three hours later, I got dressed into soaking clothes, put on my drenched boats and packed away the sopping wet tent and damp through sleeping bag. Thank goodness it was the final day!

I then had a strangely comical showdown with a shoal of fish. As I was filling up my water bottle my bare foot was dangling in the water.  I looked down and saw about twenty trout in a perfect semicircle around my foot, all staring intently at my toe, in a way that seemed, at least to me at that moment, like they were poised for attack or at the very least seriously contemplating the deliciousness of my digits.  Having already had my toe munched on by fish once this holiday, I wasn't keen for a repeat experience and wasted no time removing my foot from the equation.

From the campsite, it was only two hours walk to the point where we were to be picked up ferry, the last hour or so of that along the beach.  It was grey, bleak and drizzly:

We still had an hour after we'd reached the end point until the ferry was due.  I changed into my only remaining dry(ish) clothes, which was of course the cue the clouds were waiting for to unleash their fury.

In conclusion, the walk was absolutely fantastic.  I know I've written more about the mishaps, but that's only because it makes for more entertaining reading.  Most of the time I was just happily ambling along.  For the first couple of days the weather was perfect, and it was only in the last few hours that the rain became a drag. Whatever the case, the scenery was never less than stunning and I relished every moment of being in this totally unspoiled environment.  One of the main reasons I'd come half way round the world to Australia was to really get into the rainforest and this was an excellent way to do it.  The introduction video we'd watched at the Cardwell information centre before setting out promised that we'd feel 'close to nature'.  It's cheesy but true.

Whilst requiring neither the physical nor mental stamina nor the covering the altitude range of the Annapurna Circuit, the Thorsborne Trail provided a whole other set of challenges and it was wrong of me to be so blase beforehand about how easily I thought I'd cope with it.  For a start, carrying a pack makes a big difference, as does camping and everything that goes in with that. Whilst not long, the trail was extremely technical in places, in ways that the Annapurna Circuit was not.  It wasn't easy walking by any means.  But, like any successfully completed challenge, the Thorsborne Trail was all the more rewarding for its toughness.  I'd do it again in a heartbeat.  It was a definite gap year highlight.

Hinchinbrook: Day 3

Yesterday Luke was up early enough to see the sunrise over the ocean.  On hearing his reports of how lovely it was, I promised myself I'd get up in time to see it today.  I duly set my alarm clock for 5:50 and was dressed and out of my tent by 6.  I hadn't realised, however, quite how dark it would still be, or just how long the trail from the campsite back to the beach would seem.  It only took about 10 minutes but it was terrifying.  For a start, except for my feeble torch, it was pitch black (any early morning light failed to reach the ground through the trees).  Secondly, every time something moved in the forest, I jumped out of my skin, and there were no shortage of creatures rummaging around.  I had rats, frogs and toads cross my path and each one scared the bejesus out of me.  When I finally made it to the beach, my torch shone across the 'beware of crocodiles' sign.  I hesitantly progressed, only to find that the sky was completely covered with dense, menacing clouds and that it was beginning to rain.  Glancing at my watching, I saw it was still 15 minutes until the sun was due to pop over the horizon.  At that point I gave up and miserably returned to my tent, but not before having to make it up the dark path again.  It was not the best start to the morning.

An extra hour back in my tent and I was ready for a second start to the morning.  About half an hour into today's walk, Luke and I made a total hash of crossing Zoe Creek.  We spent around half an hour trying to find a place where we could rock hop across.  All throughout the walk, it was clear that if there was an easy or an awkward way of going about something, I would invariably opt for the latter.  Zoe Creek was no exception.  I'm not sure quite why we were so unwilling to get our feet wet, but the time we wasted there cost us dearly later on.

The next section of the walk took us to its highest point, 260m above sea level. All up the climb there were great views back over Zoe Bay and the island. Higher up, we were out of the forest and into a landscape of heath, ferns and grasstrees, though there were still a few opportunities to get our feet wet: 

Mid-morning, it started to rain, a state of affairs that would continue for the rest of the time we were on the trail.  At first it did little to detract from our enjoyment.  The scenery simply became a different kind of lovely:

The rain got heavier as the day progressed and I kept reminding myself that I was, after all, in the rainforest.  If I had to be getting wet anywhere, this was an excellent place for it.

Learning from our lesson this morning, by the time we reached Diamantia Creek, the biggest on the trail, we wasted no time.  I didn't even take my boots off because at least they gave me a semblance of grip on the stony creek bed.  I waded straight in and before I knew it was bum deep in fast-flowing water, desperately trying not to slip or lose my balance under the weight of my pack.  I was sure glad to get across that.

And then it REALLY started tipping it down.  The remaining 40 minutes into the campsite seemed interminable.  I realised that I couldn't get any wetter so just went with that but Luke was starting to show signs of breaking.

By the time we got to the campsite, I was as wet as I have ever been in my whole life.  I felt far wetter than coming out of a bath, shower or swimming pool, because not only was I wet, but all my clothes were too.  My beloved hiking boots were soaked inside and out.  The manufacturer's claims of them being waterproof obviously doesn't extend to wading bum-deep through a creek:

We were then faced with the unhappy prospect of it being only 2:30, it being far too wet to set up the tents and there being no discernible way of getting dry nor warm.  There was another waterfall at this campsite and I'd told myself throughout the walk that I'd jump in as soon as we got there - I couldn't get any wetter - but when we arrived I collapsed.  Instead, six of us at the campsite squished and huddled under one tiny tarp and tried to pretend we were enjoying ourselves.

Late afternoon the rain let up enough to pitch the tents, swim in plunge pool of the waterfall, change into my last remaining dry clothes and hang up all the wet ones in the slim hope that they'd be dry in the morning.  There was nothing left to do but eat an early dinner and tuck in for a very early night.

Hinchinbrook: Day 2, Part 2

The afternoon of Day 2 was interesting.  We had read in our trail guide "be prepared to get your feet wet as there are several creek crossings and swampy sections".  We were indeed prepared to get our feet wet in the creeks but made valiant efforts to bypass the swamps.  This involved lots of swinging from branches, balancing on precarious logs and making leaps of faith from one distant stone or tree to another.  At one point I slipped into a swamp and the swamp in turn slipped into my boots, where it remained for the rest of the trip.  Just when we thought we were in the clear, we reached this:

We spent a good while looking for the path only to discover that there wasn't one.  (The next marker is on the tree on the far right of the picture.)  For some reason, this struck us as hilarious.  Because my boots were already soaked so I lost no time wading through this knee deep swamp.  Luke tried to find a way round and made a remarkably good stab at it, finally falling in with only a couple of meters to go.  In his attempts he had deviated so far from the markers that he had to scramble up a bank and through think patches of a thorny plant called hairy mary which hooks into whatever packs, clothing or skin happen to pass its way.  We remained in surprisingly good spirits throughout and I earned some kudos points with Luke for not having 'broken' when, he claimed, "most girls would break".

Our trail guide claimed the walk that day would take six hours. Since we had completed yesterday's walk in under the suggested time, we'd taken a detour this morning to see an extra bay, but still expected to reach the next campsite in about six hours.  We had, however, been walking at a fairly leisurely pace and taking plenty of breaks.  The episode at the swamp set us back further.  Six hours after leaving camp this morning it was clear that we were still a fair way off.  Luke was not happy.  I was faring a little better but would have had no objections to being teleported to the campsite at that point.  Thankfully, we found an atmospherically lovely clearing, full of strangely bent trees and misty mountain views (Luke's favourite type of landscape) in which to regroup.

Eight hours after heading out this morning, we finally collapsed into camp.  Thankfully, I just about found the energy to make it another twenty minutes up the path, where I was rewarded with a swim in this pool:

Whilst not as spectacular as some of the waterfalls on the Top End trip, I cannot even begin to tell you how gorgeous and refreshing a spot it was for a plunge after such a long day, and all the better for the effort required to get there.

Hinchinbrook: Day 2, Part 1

Day 2 brought about 10.5km of diverse scenery.  Beaches, rainforest, mangrove swamps, creeks, all of it beautiful.

Here are some shots from the morning:

A note about creeks.  We soon realised that whenever we reached a creek, we better hope that there were rocks available for hopping across, otherwise our feet were going to get wet.  On the Annapurna Circuit we crossed 116 bridges.  On the Thorsborne Trail the bridge tally was zero.  This was proper bushwalking.

The gorgeous fan palm at the aptly named Fan Palm Creek:

Hinchinbrook: Day 1

A view of Hinchinbrook Island from the ferry that transported us there:

The ferry ride took us around tropical island and then through increasingly narrow mangrove-lined waterways.  It felt like traveling back in time.  From where we were dropped off, a few minutes walk along a boardwalk brought us out onto this beach:

Not a bad start at all.  In fact, I couldn't wipe the grin from my face.

From beach into tropical rainforest, thus finally fulfilling my dream:

We ate lunch on the beach at Nina Bay, under the coconut palms.  It had a tuna, avocado and sand wrap, followed by an apple, cinnamon and sand tea.  

The first challenging part of the walk came after lunch.  First of all, we couldn't find the trail off the beach.  Part of the reason I'd wanted someone to walk with is that I have a fear of getting lost.  Well, it turned out that Luke has an even worse sense of direction than me.  Part of the reason it was hard to find is that the route involved scrambling over numerous boulders and up a small cliff.  It was hard going, especially with a pack.  On the Annapurna Circuit we'd had porters, but this time I was carrying all my own gear, including tent, stove, spare gas and four days worth of food, probably about 14kg in total, which makes balancing and climbing exponentially harder than with a small day pack.

Best wildlife sighting of the trip - this massive (I estimate it was just under a meter long) goanna:

By the time we got to  Little Ramsey Bay, where we were to camp for the night, we were shattered.  Imagine our delight when we found a Mars bar lying unattended with no sign of humans anywhere in the vicinity and no record of anyone else having stayed there for a couple of nights.  An hour later, and fifty-nine minutes too late, its rightful owners returned.  Let's just say that they weren't very sporting about it.  

We spent the evening wandering around the beach, admiring the mistiness of the lagoon and splendour of Mt Bowen which, at 1121m, dominates the island:

At 7pm, by which time we'd had dinner, the sun had long since set and we'd exhausted our interest in playing word games, we called it a night.

Hinchinbrook: Introduction and Luke

I've already described the circumstances by which I came to book onto the Thorsborne Trail on Hinchinbrook Island in this post.

Hinchinbrook Island is situated off the coast across from Cardwell, which is three hours south of Cairns.  At 399 km^2, it's the largest island national park in Australia.  The Thorsborne Trail runs 32km on the eastern side of the island (the side not looking back over the mainland) and is fairly flat.  The trail is most comfortably walked in three and a half days.  It is widely considered to be one of the greatest walks in the world.  Having just come off the Annapurna Circuit, I thought to myself that this would be a relative doddle.  As to whether I was right in that presumption you'll have to wait until the conclusion to find out.

I have also already briefly mentioned Luke, whom I met on the Top End tour and whom I asked to join me for this bushwalk.  If anyone had told me that I would opt to spend five days with a 19 year-old, grungy metal enthusiast who smokes like a chimney, swears like a trooper and uses 'gay' as a descriptor for anything he thinks is stupid or lame, I'd have laughed in their face.  Luke was all this, but also fantastically bright, extremely well read, extensively travelled and a talented musician.  He was also hilarious.  I couldn't have asked for a better companion.

I learnt a lot from him, in particular about not judging people from first impression (it is, of course, something I try never to do, but to my shame, I did with him).  Also, he was fresh out of school, and the worst kind of London comp at that, so he had lots of good tips about how, as a teacher, I should cope with 15 year old versions of himself.  I think now that if I ever have boys in my class who are obnoxious and getting themselves into all kinds of trouble, I'll think to myself, "it's OK, maybe they'll turn out like Luke".  In return, Luke learnt why one shouldn't use 'gay' as a generic insult!

Like I did for the Annapurna trek, I'll be writing up a day by day account of the Thorsborne Trail, mostly so I have enough blog space to put up lots of pretty pictures, though I'll probably keep the text to a few anecdotes and captions.