Day 20- Sept 16th - Mission beach to Atherton

 

Day 20- Sept 16th - Mission beach to Atherton

So the morning proceeded under the pall of the distinct lack of the wildlife we wanted to see. Packing and ignoring the possible bird locations nearby did not work to attract a cassowary. 

Sasha was not in a great mood. The day was hot, and while we intended to have a stroll around mission beach to take in the atmosphere, we ended up at a cafe while Sasha had a low key melt down. Nobody particularly felt like trying to push for the planned stop-overs. 

   

Travel with kids will have these moments - parents will have enough, one kid will throw out a comment about not wanting to do the planned things, then the shoes don’t go on, the parents are frustrated, the youngest starts getting upset because everyone else is upset… we’d been on the road for almost 3 weeks, some tension was bound to form…

After coffee, The family engaged in some deep breathing, and after a time Sasha managed to get half way out of his funk. It was decided (though everyone was feeling a bit low on energy) we’d try two more places for viewing the murder birds. 

Bingil Beach was first. A cute little cul de sac hosted a half dozen unpowered camp spots - nestled in a picturesque and succinct bay as a wonderful tree lined beach. 

Postcard blue water nudged gently at the shore (for those unfamiliar with beaches north of K’gari, there is no off shore surfing, the reef blunts the swell). Palms and rainforest giants made incursions onto the sand, buttresses snaking out and looking rather like a photoshopped ideal of a beach… folks, it’s real, we were there, and it’s well worth the stop. 

While Nastya fed, each family member regained some zen from such a glorious place - foot paddling and pumicing, play ground and sand eating or lounging helped get the day back on track. (Swimming, sadly, wasn’t an option). 

But the absence of enormous killer birds drew ever sharper in focus, and while it did, somebody's belly growled (probably papa’s) so we set course for Etty bay. 

 

Siri directed us over a heavily wooded hill, the road weaving through viney rainforest, punctuated by abandoned looking buildings, and mysterious side roads. Etty bay appeared as an abrupt ellipses, with three permanent buildings, a clump of small cabins and caravan park for 30 odd vans - it was pocket sized. 

Lunch hit the spot - excellent fish and chips - https://www.facebook.com/ettybaykitchen

Blessed with a slightly larger version of the beach before, everyone went down to get a bit wet. 

Sasha was in fine form - laughing and having fun, Nastya happily groped for more sand to eat, and we skipped back to the car, detouring to a tap to rinse off. 

As is our custom, Sasha was rinsing his feet for the third time, when mama lifted her head and… quite out of the blue, a cassowary strutted by very closely from the beach… papa got a bit speechless, and both adults fumbled to get their phones out for photos. 

As the majestic bird picked it’s way through the carpark, finding bits and pieces to eat, mama went in hot pursuit, papa bundled up the children to move the camera support vehicle along so Mama could utilise the Canon. At one point, Mama was standing close to a bandana’d German tourist, and the cassowary chose to head directly at them. They stepped towards each other, and froze… - deciding to accept their fate. The cassowary would not bestow a swift death on them that day, but for at least 20 minutes the magnificent feathered being led mama and a small cloud of tourists around Etty bay, and no one could wipe the smile off mama's face. 

He stole a banana from someone’s bag and swallowed it whole. And approached a local teenage birthday party - they shoo-d him away as though he was an annoying ibis.

 

These days from Cape Hillsborough to Etsy Bay would remain as some of the most picturesque memories of the Australian coast of this trip.

On our way out of Etty bay we stumbled on a cocoa farm, bought some great looking chocolate and delighted the sales woman (apparently the second paying customers since they’d re-opened.)

It was time to get up the mountain. 

Atherton awaited, we had triumphed on a challenging day, and the home stretch was right there.

Ascending the range we marvelled at the difference to the last trip. Climate change served up drought 3 years ago, and the fire season had already kicked off, three years and three la Nina’s later, and things were very green. 

The car made an urgent beep, which told us that the petrol we should have got down the hill had not been obtained… no worries, still said we had enough in the tank to get to the next town. 

A little further up hill we were getting lower quicker than needed…

The car hit zero, and we knew that for certain 5 km would still be available, so as we crawled towards the Millaa Millaa petrol station and racked up -18 kilometres, the car got very quiet. We rolled into town on a fume and a prayer and as we closed in on the location of the promised petrol, it was clear the maps were having a little joke with us. The big servo was no longer there. The tiny side-of-the-road one was very closed.

In a quiet panic we called out to a local bloke having a bike ride with his family to ask, and were told the closest was Malanda, 20 odd kms away. 

Two sweaty kids asleep in the car, a dusty haze on the mazda, mama and papa must have looked a bit defeated. The bloke’s wife came up for a yarn, and without hesitation, he offered to grab some fuel from their nearby farm. Chatting to his wife, we learned they run a dairy. They were having an after-school exercise ride with the kids and yet they paused everything to help a couple of randoms from NSW, and it was clear it never crossed their mind not to help. We gifted them some of the local chocolate in return and felt the day had turned completely around. 

Arriving at Aunt Maerey and Uncle Kai’s we were greeted with hearty hospitality, home cooked food, and the comfy embrace of their granny flat - quite literally where Papa's grandparents lived until recently. 

A long day. A beautiful day.