Log Eighty One – Turn Left and Head South

1 August 2021

The time has come for us to consider the third phase of this trip, namely the return home. I’m not talking about a rush to return to southern climes, rather a planned, slow retreat. The expectation being that the longer we take to return the better chance of Spring weather to have either arrived or to be very close.

We are still in the tropics and are enjoying tropical days around the pool, reading or partaking of a chilled beer. In recent weeks we have enjoyed snorkelling on the Great Barrier Reef and exploring the tablelands west of Cairns.

My latest observations:

The Local versus the Visitor

In the country towns and even the larger centres its quite obvious who are the travellers and who are the locals. I am not talking about the tacky shirts tourist are renowned for wearing the world over, rather the winter attire of the locals.

On a morning of say 22c the visitors are wearing shorts, maybe a tee shirt and sandals. In contrast the locals will be wearing puffer jackets, beanies, long trousers, shoes and socks. They will look like they are ready for freezing weather or maybe a frost. This is always a source of great amusement for the visitors.

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The local will be uttering phrases like its freezing this morning and the visitor will be casting a sideways look with a comment like what are you thinking it’s a beautiful morning.

Of course come the wet season the locals will still be able to function in 38c temps and 100% humidity while the visitors will have melted into an oil stain on the footpath.

Self Service versus Service Delivery

Over the past many years we have all gotten used to the idea of the customer doing more themselves and less by the service provider. The examples are numerous and include self service petrol stations, self service check outs, ATMs, printing out your photographs and so the list goes on.

I am however amused at a service that a century ago was provided by dedicated workers that we now do ourselves. I am talking about the emptying of toilet cassettes at the dump point at camp grounds. A hundred years ago the ‘night soil’ man visited your house and collected your waste a couple of times a week. Night soil collection then wasn’t a self service industry.

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It seems there are some daily activities that we think were relegated to the past and are no longer part of our daily routine. Not so, some have simply evolved and remain with us just in a new form.

Small Country Towns

A long chat with a local has left me an excellent appreciation of how to grow and harvest tobacco. This is a skill I never thought about and it is redundant since no tobacco is grown in this country anymore.

However tobacco is not the issue. What I learnt was that during harvesting every farm employed at least 16 farm hands; mechanisation reduced that to 4. Similarly we saw pictures of shearing sheds from days gone by when 40 men were employed during shearing. Sheep are no longer raised in these parts.

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These numbers of workers employed across the country explains why there were so many small towns each with its own schools and at least a couple of pubs.

Farms now operate with a lot less people and so those small towns are shrinking if not vanishing.

Curious Characters

We met a couple of cyclists in the rainforest where they were having a drink and some lunch. One of them had just ridden his BMX, yes a BMX up a very steep mountain road with lots of hairpin bends, twists and curves. The road is 19km long or 12 miles. He took just 2 hours for this epic effort on a bike with no gears. He was probably in his mid 20s.

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He and his mate were very happy having lots of laughs about the ride up into the mountains. They were however enjoying an infusion of a less than legal herb. Who was I to criticise after that very impressive ride. They had finished their bag of chips and we refreshed their water supply. I don’t think they stopped chucking the whole time we chatted.

Snorkelling

We knew that as we get older we will face some restrictions with respect to where we can go or what we do. We didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.

As we headed out to the reef and our first dive for the day we were questioned by one of the guides regarding our health and whether we had any ‘issues’. We are both very healthy but oh no, I had a red tape wrapped around my snorkel and Barb got two stripes. The tape was designed so they could keep an eye on us as we strayed away from the boat and all because we had certain health issues none of which limited our ability to snorkel.

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Damn the red stripe on my snorkel, I will resist. Maybe I will just accept the red tape and enjoy the Parrotfish, the Wrasse, Anemone fish (think Nemo), Angel fish, Triggerfish and of course the Sweetlips.

The message is get out there before they, whoever they might be tell you that you can’t do that or this tour isn’t suitable for you.

Guacamole

When you can buy a bag of seven avocados for $2 then living on guacamole is not an issue. Smashed avos with every meal is well within a healthy and budget conscious lifestyle. We will miss these little luxuries down south.

The Quintessential Australia

We have seen much of outback Queensland and met some interesting characters and heard many stories. The epitome of the culture of the outback however was summed up in a night at the Fred Brophy boxing tent.

Fred is a fourth generation showman. He is a boxing promoter that travels all over Australia visiting regional shows, rodeos, horse races and any where there is a large gathering of people willing to take on his troupe of boxers.

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Now don’t get me wrong this is not championship boxing. Fred invites men and women from the audience to come up and challenge his boxers. It’s more circus than serious boxing but what a great night. I have not seen so many mullets in one room for many years.

A couple of likely lads and two women got up and had a go. Most did very well, remaining standing for the three rounds except for the odd fall to the mat. There was lots of cheering for the underdog and lots of smiles. The only downside was when an amateur boxing champion entered the competition and knocked out Fred’s boy in about 3o seconds into the first round. That wasn’t quite in the spirit of the night.

Fred’s boxing tent is the last of its kind in Australia and possibly the last in the world. A rapidly fading side of what makes the Australian outback unique. A once in a lifetime experience.

And so our travels continue…..