If you got funk, you got style

We left Wallaman falls with a wet tent, but a spring in our step. For the next two weeks we’d be sleeping in a proper bed and shitting in a non-communal toilet, pure luxury. It wasn’t a palace, but we quickly set ourselves up and started enjoying having daily chores. First thing in the morning I’d go and feed the horses. Then, we’d check on the chooks and collect some fresh eggs,

Fresh eggs every day

and after breakfast do a few of our chores, such as working on the car and cleaning our camping gear.

You're lucky I'm wearing pants

After lunch we’d spend the rest of the day drinking on the balcony. At 5pm we’d go off to feed the horses again, tend to the ducks and chickens. It was a simple, enjoyable life and signalled the end of Bushman Tom, but the birth of his cousin, Farmer Tom.

Old MacGosden had a farm, E-I-E-I-O

By the end of the weekend we hit our stride, and Becky had fallen in love with the chooks. She was calling them her ladies, and as soon as we got close to their paddock, you could see them all running towards the gate. She seemed to get a kick out of stroking and handling them, and although they didn’t seem to love it, they never stopped stampeding over when ever she walked to see them.

Chook whisperer

I was even getting the hang of the horses, although I was a little wary of them at first. I started off walking up to them on an adjacent paddock, however on the third morning I almost stepped on a snake in the long grass, so I stopped doing that. I guess the fear of being bitten by a snake trumps my fear of being stamped to death by a hungry horse. Near the end, I’d even started grooming the male, Bruno, and I could tell he really appreciated the attention.

I guess that means he's happy

However, it wasn’t all peaches and cream living on acreage in the tropics. On the first Monday I got terrible shits, to the point anything that passed my lips would be coming out the other end as rusty pebble water within an hour. The main issue with this was a note left by the owners, who stated that they only had a small septic system, so if we had guests of >5 people for a few days we should be wary of filling it. They even told us to follow the rule “if it’s yellow, let it mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down”. My stomach bug was ensuring I was definitely crapping for >5 people. So for the rest of our time there I watered their garden with my piss. By the next day I was feeling much better, and there was some texture to my bowel movements. However, that morning, after a terrible nights sleep, I awoke to a text from my friend, Jamie, living in NZ. The text said he had some bad news, and asked if we could talk. As we chatted on the phone he told me the devastating news that a mutual friend, Rich, who we’d both known for over 25 years, had died.

Most memories from my young adult stage involve Rich in some way. He was a true friend and we’d never lost touch. We went on countless nights out, day trips, and many times just sat about, as “youf” tend to do, doing nothing more than enjoy the company of friends. In 1994 we went to India together for several months, and as an 18yrold that had never left Europe (and had only been to a handful of places outside the UK), it caused such a seismic shift in my outlook on life that it left an indelible mark on the very core of my being. Much of how influential that holiday was is due to the fact I shared the experience with him. Rich was a true music fan, whose taste in music was so eclectic it can only be described as music itself. He left a music legacy in my life so big that most of the tracks I listen to today are in some way linked to him. He must have brought >20 cassette tapes to India, and shaped the soundtrack to the whole experience, so now a single note from any of those albums can fill my mind with a thousand sights and smells. The title of this blog is a reference to one of these tracks by Funkadelic. The reason this one brings back so many memories is because while we were in India we had a small, private joke in which we had changed the words in reference to something else. It is a silly, you-had-to-be-there joke that no one else would ever find funny, and sadly the only other person I could share it with is no longer here. I loved him, and I will miss him deeply.

Rich

My friends passing overshadowed the rest of our time at Mt Fox. We sat on the balcony, drinking and discussing life, the universe and everything else, only taking a quick break at lunchtime to watch Dr Phil. Over the weekend I had a video chat with Jamie in NZ, and another friend, Nick, in the UK, as we all mourned the loss of our good friend. Despite our immense sadness at the news, the animals still needed to be fed and tended to.

Calming and therapeutic

In the final week of our stay, I shaved off my beard leaving the 'tache in an attempt to cheer myself up. I felt stronger with the ‘tache and finally felt I could dominate the horses. Unfortunately I could only keep it for a day, as the next day we had some water troubles and I had to call the neighbour for help. We’d run out of water, and needed to pump more from the bore. I couldn’t get it to work and spent most of the day trying to work out the issue, with some help from their neighbour. I didn’t want to meet him with the ‘tache, so panic shaved it off. I regretted it for the rest of the stay.

Farmer Tom finds his look

By the end of our stay we were ready to move on. We’d arranged another house sit in Brisbane starting from the 23^rd and had given ourselves four nights to get to Brisbane and would spend one night staying with R&L before starting the house sit. We were sad to say goodbye to the animals, with whom we’d bonded with over the past two weeks, and Becky was especially sad to say goodbye to her girls, but were ready to leave the property in general.

Goodbye ladies, we'll miss you

It felt strange to load the car for the last time, and while we were both keen to leave Mt Fox, we were not looking forward to getting back in the tent and the four final nights of our road trip.

Take me dancing naked in the rain

As we sat in our car in the rain in Woolies car park, the joys of camping were starting to wain once again. It all seemed like too much work, plus we couldn’t think of anywhere we could be fucked to go. It then dawned on us that rather than drive somewhere else, we could actually rectify our mistake and just return from whence we came... even if it did feel quite idiotic. But then again, it’s far from the most stupid thing we’ve done on this trip, and so we headed back to the same campsite and paid for another two nights. However, we picked a totally different spot, firstly as to not feel silly setting up in the same spot in which we’d taken the tent down only a couple of hours previous, but also we were worried that someone else would set up next to us and ruin our second stay. We picked a nice site further from the toilets and the free wifi, next to a small pond. The rest of the afternoon we sat about drinking, before going for a lovely walk along the beach. Feeling energised by our decision to stay, Becky decided to climb a fallen palm tree, but didn’t get very far.

At least the feet are off the ground

Full of beer and confidence, I decided to show her how to climb, but unbeknownst to me drinking doesn't help with coordination and had left my balance a little awry. This meant my first attempt almost saw me fall off and hanging upside down.

Confidence in climbing ability is higher when drinking

My more cautious second attempt was better, and I felt very proud of my achievement.

That'll do pig, that'll do

As we strolled back Becky then wrote a lovely message in the sand.

I heart you too

I replied by drawing a cock and balls.

Hil-fucking-arious

Feeling very pleased with ourselves, we wandered back to the campsite. Unfortunately, it turns out our choice of site wasn't so great and being near a pond meant there were shit loads of mosquitos at dusk. Feeling under attack we took shelter in the tent just as it started to rain again. Ah, the great outdoors!

The next day we decided that we should do something other than spend the whole day drinking around the campsite, and decided a day trip to Alligator Nest in Tully was a good way to spend our precious time. We hadn’t been to Tully since the start of the trip, 5 months earlier, and the weather hadn’t changed at all as it was still raining. At least the Tully's Golden Gumboot was open this time, and we got to climb it just as the rain picked up.

The number one Tully tourist arrtaction

By the time we got to Alligator Nest it was hammering down. We sat in the car wondering how long it would take to pass, and what we were actually doing with our lives. As we sat there in the pouring rain the car park filled with cars and trucks. A film crew had turned up and were filming a tourist commercial there, though it would take a shit load of CGI to make it look inviting in this weather. With no sign of a break in the weather and feeling like we were getting in the way, we left them to film in the rain. As we drove out of Tully the sunshine returned. I’m starting to think there is a rain cloud that constantly sits over Tully. Back at our site the sun was sort of shining, so we sat around drinking until the mosquitos chased us into bed. 

The next day we packed up for real, with a two night stay at Wallaman Falls, the tallest waterfall in Australia at 268m, next on the list. The owners of our house sit were leaving the next day, and we decided it would be best if we arrived the day after they had left. You may, at this point, be thinking “jeez, Tom, so she talked a lot. It seems a little OTT to adjust your entire camping schedule to avoid them”. However, I forgot to mention (perhaps blanked from memory, as a way of recovering) that on top of all the babbling, Diana had also showed us some photos of a sailing trip to Hinchinbrook Island. Amongst these shots were naked photos of her and her husband! Now, there wasn't any floppy sausage or hairy clam on show, but multiple photos of them on their boat, sans clothes and modesty barely hidden. Each time she’d sound surprised, and make a comment about perhaps she should have checked that folder first. NO FUCKING SHIT, PERHAPS THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN BEST, AND PERHAPS AFTER THE FIRST PHOTO YOU SHOULD HAVE REALISED THIS WASN'T THE SORT OF THING YOU SHOULD SHOW PEOPLE YOU'VE JUST MET AND STOPPED. I’d been washing my eyes daily with soap since. We didn’t want to spend any more time with them out of fear of either being talked into a coma or being exposed to lurid images of the ageing process #metoo.

On our drive to Wallaman Falls we stopped at a lookout of Hinchinbrook Island, and despite the flashbacks from Diana’s photos, Becky took a nice artsy photo of the island from the shore.

Lovely views

We then quickly passed through Cardwell to pick up the cheap beer offer we’d missed out on last time and, feeling my man tits needed some attention, had some lovely fish and chips.

I just can't seem to shift the weight

Once we’d reached Wallaman Falls we set up camp, and then went to have a quick look at the falls. The walk to the base of the falls is quite tough, so we thought we’d have a quick gander, and come back the next day to do the walk. At the top of the falls there was a gang of young people, one of whom was American. As we walked past she exclaimed that we’d love the walk, and it’d be one of the best walks we’d ever done. How the fuck would she know what the best walks we’d done are? We’d reached a saturation point on waterfalls some months earlier, and while we were still enjoying them, it took something special to register anything more than a smile. Of course we didn’t say any of this to her, just replied back that we’d be doing it tomorrow. The whole group seemed over excited, and I didn’t want to spend too long interacting with them so we took a quick look at the waterfall, before heading back to the campsite to drink and complain about how young people don't even know they're born.

The next morning we awoke to grey skies and rain. It seemed like the best-walk-we’d-ever-do™ could be ruined by bad weather. Luckily this wasn’t to be the case as the weather had cleared before we started our walk. I would best describe it as a pleasant walk through thick rainforest, but nowhere near one of the best walks I’d ever done. I just wished those young fuckers were about so I could correct them on their presumptions about what I think is a good walk. At the bottom I had a little scramble over the rocks while Becky watched on.

I'm counting this as hard exercise

We spent some time enjoying the falls, before we decided it was time for the worst part of the walk… the trudge back up to the top. Before we left Becky decided to try some more yoga, and without wifi to check different poses, she had to freestyle. I think this may be the best one yet.

Rewriting the rule book

The walk to the top of the falls was far from one of the best walks ever, it fucking sucked. All those months of sitting about drinking and eating came back to haunt us as we puffed and panted our way to the top. Feeling slightly queasy, we took one last look at the fall before heading back to the campsite to eat and drink the calories we’d lost on the walk plus some more, naturally.

The original long drop

Back at the site we both expressed how happy we were that tomorrow we’d be out of the tent for a while. Having now seen a cassowary and completed the road trip check list, the last few days of camping had begun to drag and it was starting to feel like a chore once again. We were back to our moaning best, failing to appreciate how lucky we were. Becky managed to amuse herself by mocking my old man turkey neck, but the jokes on her, as she is the one that has to look at it.

Without TV, Becky amuses herself in our ways.

As dusk approached, and the mosquitos started to congregate, we got into the tent for the last time for a few weeks. As we lay there we could her the patter of rain against the canvas… I think I’m over camping.

Mission accomplished

The rest of the day at Murray Falls was spent drinking under the tarp, and whinging about the exhaust while rain fell around us. It was a pretty dull day. As dusk fell a load of excitable French backpackers showed up, whooping and hollering as they set up their campsite. Luckily, they were far enough away not to rile me up too much, and by bedtime I could hear nothing… and I’d been drinking.

The next morning we awoke to the same shitty weather and decided that we’d had all we could take from Murray Falls and it was time to move on. 

Standing tall

As we sat under the tarp, eating our breakfast, the French backpackers went on a group morning run, whooping and hollering as they ran. They finished with stair drills, using the path to the swimming hole. It almost made us feel guilty for our lack of movement…almost. After watching them display their youthful exuberance, we started packing away slowly. I think watching them exercise had tired us out a little. We had a lot to pack away and everything was wet, which didn’t make for a fun morning. We were the last to leave, and after all that faffing we decided to finish off with a rainy swim.

My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.

Our next spot was Etty Bay, a place we’d been told we would definitely see a cassowary. We decided to call into Innisfail first so another “expert” could take a look at the exhaust. The exhaust specialist we found this time told us the exhaust was a little crook, which he thought might be pulling on rubber bracket and could be why it keeps breaking. He also told us we had the wrong gasket and rubber bracket, and he would replace both with the correct types. It only cost $70, so let’s see how this guy’s working knowledge on exhaust systems pans out. As I’m writing this several weeks after the fact, I can confirm, not fucking well.

Exhaust fixed for now, we headed for Etty Bay, hoping to finally see a cassowary. As we drove in we started to contemplate how we were likely to be the only people who visited this place without seeing anything. We needn’t have worried, as we found a juvenile sitting by the road on the way in.

Must-see list complete

With that box ticked we felt we had now seen and done everything on our initial road trip list. So, what the fuck do we do now? We continued into Etty Bay, and found a picturesque little beach with a take-away and campsite. However, the campsite was very small and pretty terrible. Luckily as we were off-season it was reasonably empty. We decided to stay for one night, and hopefully catch a few more sightings of a cassowary. This didn't didn’t take long, as the juvenile we saw on the road in had wandered down to the beach.

Little poser

It wasn’t shy, and although they’re not supposed to be fed, it seemed a little too interested in us to be fully "wild". It took a real liking to Becky's pink iPhone, and as it came in I did shit myself a little. These aren't an animal you’d want to fuck with, even when they’re young.

Sorry, that smell is me.

It was an exciting end to the day, and we got some good photos. You may have noted that I keep referring to it as a juvenile, and I know this as it didn't have the full adult helmet yet (which both males and females have).

Young pretender

Once the excitement was over, we had fish and chips from the kiosk, walked along the beach a bit and then went to bed.

The next morning we spotted an adult cassowary wandering near the campsite. It was early and I hadn’t had a coffee yet, so the photos were terrible and blurred. It didn’t seem that interested in us, so didn’t hang around long enough for me to get a better shot. There were also some bush-stone curlews banging about, so I took a few photos of those. I think we are both going to miss the Australian wildlife terribly.

Not cassowaries

As the campsite was so shit, we decided to head for Wongaling Beach, next to Mission Beach. We stayed here at the start of our journey, just after we were rained in at Tully Gorge. We really liked the campsite, as it was large, had good toilets/showers and even had free wifi. They also had a Woollies supermarket just up the road, rainforest walks and nice beaches. It was everything we wanted.

We started off by doing a short walk through the rainforest. We had done the same walk 10 years earlier, and made the same mistake by forgetting to use the insect repellent, so ended up quickly marching around the walk with 20+ mosquitos following behind, and not getting much enjoyment out of the walk. After all that excitement, we set up camp in a nice shady spot and spent the rest of the day surfing the internet, punctured only by a short walk on the beach. It was pretty great. The next day went much the same way, and we were both having a wonderful time. However, it was all ruined sometime in the arvo thanks to some Europeans showing up. I have moaned a lot about Europeans having no idea about personal space and not really understanding that camping within a few metres of someone may be seen as annoying. This was no different, as a couple and a single chap traveling in two cars decided that 2m from us was the best spot in an otherwise empty field.  Becky was fuming, and still gobsmacked at this. I, on-the-other-hand, had been drinking and while acknowledging their proximity as bothersome, didn’t get as angry.

Europeans do the silliest things

In the sober light of the next day the proximity of the neighbours still didn't bother me as much as Becky. I feel I've reached a sort of zen acceptance that no matter how quiet a campsite, some prick is going to pull up and set up next to us. Besides, we’d snuck a look at the sign-in book and had seen that they were only staying the one night. This feeling of smugness didn't last long, as we went to pay for another night, so did the Europeans... They are certainly trying to test how fucking zen I am. Rather than sit around the campsite letting my new facade crumble, we went for a lovely walk up Clump mountain, and got some fantastic views of the area. It was a tough walk too, and could almost be considered exercise.

All alone.

The Europeans did do us a sort of favour, as we tried to avoided sitting around our campsite as to not be reminded of just how close they were. We wandered along the beach, went for lunch in the village and generally kept ourselves occupied. And of course later I had a drink.

The next day we decided to move on and started packing away. So did the Europeans, and as they were young and had less stuff were much quicker than us. We spent some time enjoying the last of the wifi and then headed to Woolies to get some shopping. As we sat in the Woolies car park we started discussing where we should go next, as it gently started to rain. It was then we realised how much we loved this area and, with the European gone, perhaps we’d made a mistake leaving so early.

Get outta my dreams, get into my car

We hadn’t been to Paluma Range NP before, so that was something. The campsite was quite full, what with it being a Saturday night and not far from Townsville. We found a quiet corner and got about our business of drinking and eating.

The next morning we decided to drive to Paluma’s other swimming holes, we started with the Rockslides. While Becky couldn’t be bothered to have a swim, I decided to have a go and sat in one of the rock holes. Becky took a photo, and the photo seems to show I have developed lady breasts. I think this may be because Becky has been slipping hormones into my pasta stir-in dinners… But I'm not too angry as they are quite pert for a 42 year old.

My eyes are up here

We walked up to the other pools, but found them full of children, and therefore kiddy piss, so decided it would be best to move on, but not before Becky dropped another yoga pose, Bālāsana, she’d looked up that morning… Don’t worry, Lorelle the triangle is coming!

I think this yoga pose is called "drunken collapse"

Having so many people cluttering the easy to reach pools, we decided to head for Little Crystal Creek, which was slightly more of a drive up the mountain and therefore, we thought, might be quieter. It wasn’t, but it was very beautiful and big enough to find a spot to swim alone.

Relaxation, after all that exercise

Becky insisted on trying another yoga pose, Shavasana. I can’t keep up anymore and to me it just looked like she was lying down.

Yoga pose "seizure"

It was a great spot, and we enjoyed watching some blokes jumping off the top of one of the waterfalls.

I really want to play with the cool kids

I also really wanted to jump into one of the pools, but decided I’d just watch them for now, and maybe try tomorrow when we pass the pools on our way to Mt Fox. This was where we would get to meet our potential housesit, Diana.

Back at the campsite, we went for an arvo swim in the Big Crystal Creek swimming hole. It was easier to get to and was very busy. We had a quick dip, and after we’d doused ourselves in old man skin and kiddy pee, went back to our site to drink and eat. That evening we had a lovely steak and salad, and as I’m the man (despite my perky breasts) I cooked the steak.

Proper food

The next day we headed to Mt Fox to meet Diana, to spend the night and be shown around the property. We’d had a few e-mail interactions since chatting on the phone and she came across as very nice, although Becky had noted that she seemed like a talker. We decided to take the slower “shortcut” across the range, so we could visit the Little Crystal Creek again as we expected it would be quieter on a cloudy Monday morning. When we got there we were all alone, and I started prepping myself for a big jump into the pools.

It's a bit high!

It’s hard to pluck up the courage to jump senselessly from a height when the person you're with doesn’t have the necessary amount of testosterone to egg you on to do it, but rather stares at you like the idiot you are. I managed the jump from <30cms, and was starting to eye a higher 1m jump, when a load of teenagers turned up and started jumping from the 3m mark. Realising I could never compete with their total disregard for safety, or lack of consideration for others so we moved up to another waterfall and away from their youthful shenanigans. At the next fall, Becky took her cue to try Lorelle's challenge of the triangle pose.

Does this count as a "triangle" pose?

However, she quickly realised that this one was way above her league and resorted to the easier Navasana pose using the rocks as support. To be honest, they are all above her level, even the laying flat one.

Yoga pose "fallen over"

I think she may have run out of ideas now, so fingers crossed this is the last of them. I went for another quick dip, jumping in from a >30cm point, and before I even had chance to swim to the edge, the gaggle of excitable teenagers decided our pool looked more fun. With that we took our leave and headed to the small village of Paluma.

Driving further up the range, we hit cloud and rain. This ruined our plans of visiting a few of the walks, as became clear when we tried one of the lookouts.

 

Spectacular

As all our walking plans had hit weather issues we arrived at the Mt Fox property early arvo, much earlier than we had planned. We met Diana and she seemed very nice, but Becky had called it and she was indeed a talker. Her husband was away buying a boat on the Gold Coast that they planned to sail back while we looked after their place.

After a “quick” 1hr introduction to herself, she took us round the 25 acres to show us the feeding routine. As we wandered around feeding the seven chooks, four ducks and two horses, Diana named every fruit tree and different plant they had including the weeds. By the time we’d got to the horses we’d reached information overload. We then found out one of the horses gets a little testy (and aroused) at feeding time. Diana went through a whole routine and how you have to be in charge and be firm with the hulking mass of animal, but this just seemed to get him even more aroused. It seemed quite an ordeal, and I don’t remember seeing that on an episode of Bonanza.

After a 2hr lesson on how to care for a 25acre property, we headed back to the house to start the fire that runs the oven and hot water. Diana had kindly offered to make us dinner, lamb shanks and roasted veges. As she prepared the dish she continued to chat to us. By 8pm I could feel blood dripping from my ears as I struggled through the fatigue to remain looking interested. I looked over at Becky to see her staring blankly at the floor. I was now on my own, and had to work twice as hard to feign interest despite my brain wanting to shut down. We finally sat down to eat at 10:30pm!!! Unfortunately, despite the vegetables being in the oven for forever, they were still almost raw. I did the English thing and polished off the raw potatoes while licking my lips and rubbing my belly, and looked over at Becky’s plate to see most of it untouched. I DIDN’T KNOW THAT WAS AN OPTION…Damn you English genes!  

The next morning, Diana offered to make us scrambled eggs and in spite of us wanting to leave ASAP we politely accepted. It took her about 45mins to make them‼ The longest time in history to make scrambled eggs, but they tasted ok. After our 10am breakfast we left drained and shell shocked, but finally there was silence. The weather had become proper shit, and as we arrived in a rainy Ingham for the second time on this trip, we again had started to question this whole camping thing. We hate Ingham! Dejected, I bought a 30-pack of golds and we had another McDonalds for lunch before heading to Girramay NP. On our way we passed Cardwell and our hatred of Ingham increased further when we saw the same golds $10 cheaper. To comfort ourselves, we bought a six-pack of ice cream snickers. We did have a bit of an issue, as we don’t have a freezer, but because buying 6 is cheaper than 2, Becky’s plan was to give some to kids on the street. I warned her that this might get us in trouble in the current climate, and besides I wanted my 3, eating them all one after the other (and half of Becky’s last one when we reached Girramay). Perhaps my man-tits aren’t due to hormones after all.

At Murray Falls campsite, we set up in the drizzle and sat around drinking, as it started to seem like Becky’s foresight that the weather would break us would possibly come true.

I won't let the sun go down on me

That night I dreamt that we had exhaust issues. This wasn’t so weird, I haven't suddenly developed psychic abilities, but the mechanic in Brisbane had mentioned he thought we might have issues and over the last week it had been sounding a little noisier. That morning I decided to have a look under the car.

It's all about wearing the right gear

I discovered the rubber bracket by the muffler, which has been replaced in Broome, Perth and Adelaide, had again broken and the flanges weren’t that flush. It looks like it might be a tie between the weather and car issues that cause us to give up the second chapter of the trip……