Bev and
Bruce

Day 09 • Wed 5 Aug 2009

481 km (300 miles)
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Rockhampton to Airlie Beach

Fortunately refreshed after a delightful rest in Rockhampton, I took the driver’s seat on a beautiful sunny morning for the first shift of what would be a very long, tiring day. The road was good, requiring all my concentration to stay within the 110 kph speed limit. At times like this, I missed the cruise control of our PRIUS sedan which makes constant monitoring of the speedo unnecessary.

After an hour or two, I was beginning to notice signs of driver fatigue. We started looking for a suitable place for some refreshment, but there were few built-up areas on this long stretch of tropical highway. But at last, just off the highway at Clairview, we saw an unprepossessing shop offering ice creams and drinks and we, along with other campervans and caravans, pulled off the road thankfully.

Alas, the unexciting exterior of the shop was matched by what we found inside. Local older women, workers for charity, had many items of home-made goods – aprons, tea-pot covers, jams and the like – on sale and instant coffee and bottled drinks were available, but no espresso coffee or cappuccinos. Bruce decided he’d make his own coffee so while he returned to the van for that, I took a stroll out to the pretty little beach just behind the shop and parking area. The beach bordered a quietly beautiful bay. It’s light green water broke into small waves at the shoreline, gently lapping the brownly pebbled beach. Mangroves stood darkly out into the water and behind me, tall casuarinas whispered softly as the breezes rippled their fine leaves and coconut palms bent invitingly towards the ocean. It was quite idyllic. I’d forgotten about Bruce slaving over a hot gas ring til he called me to join him for our coffee. From the privacy of our van, we watched many other grey nomads driving by in caravans, campervans, four-wheel drives pulling trailer-vans. Some were loaded with bicycles as well. These vehicles made up most of the traffic on this northern Queensland highway.

Bruce took the wheel for the next long haul. We were heading for Mackay and had wanted to stay there overnight, but there had been no accommodation available in this peak tourist season of the year. But we would need to stop there for a break for refreshments. The day was wearing on. One or two more hours passed. Early afternoon was brilliantly sunny and stiflingly hot in our van whose air conditioning was ineffective and whose fan we had not yet worked out how to operate. Added to that was the ever-present rattling of the cabin and roar of the road noise and the reader will understand by the time we reached Mackay our need to stop was getting pretty desperate.

Mackay was clearly a very busy metropolis. Much heavy traffic buzzed around us. We had to deal with ambiguous road signs, negotiating the cumbersome van around roundabouts and watching for a suitable oasis all at the same time.

‘There’s the Golden M!’ I cried with relief, seeing the familiar golden arch in the distance. Then all we had to do was work out how to reach it. At last, after driving round back streets off the main highway, we discovered the entrance and parked outside in the street, again aware of the size of the van. Inside MacDonalds, Bruce fetched a coffee for me and drinks and food for himself. As soon as he’d eaten, he got out his lap-top computer, eager to make connection with friends as we’d been out of luck in earlier stops, and for a while, we caught up on our email correspondence and sent out some messages of our own.

It was my turn to drive again. We got out of Mackay easily enough and for 50 kms, I coped, but suddenly I was not only tired and unable to focus clearly; I was also hungry and realised I should have eaten earlier. I had not realised just how much further we had to go to reach Airlie Beach. Bruce agreed for us to stop, but reluctantly. He too, was unhappy about the length of the drive and wished to get to our destination as soon as possible. I made myself a sandwich and as soon as I had finished and was back in my seat, Bruce fired the engine and we were on our way again in the sweltering, melting afternoon heat. It was quite late in the afternoon when he turned off the highway towards our caravan park. Unlike Mackay, a big city, Airlie Beach is set up for tourists and these were much in evidence. A younger population of families and young singles was everywhere, dressed very casually, towels over their shoulders and ice creams in their hands as they walked beside the road which ran along the water’s edge. Airlie Beach is connects to the popular Whitsunday Passage Islands. We were in a tourist Mecca.

Our caravan park was in tune with this theme. In the rapidly fading daylight, we could see many, many caravans, campervans, tents and converted buses packed neatly, cheek by jowl, among a forest of palm trees. Around the park clearing, jungle growth was abundant. At the mandatory 5 kph we made our way very carefully around the park’s lanes, aware of little children who may run out in front of us at any moment, and found our spot at last. Bruce drove in forwards this time, thoughtfully placing the van’s sliding door nearest our en suite facility, and, because of the impending darkness and our lack of a portable light, we wasted no time in setting up for our evening meal, eating it and packing everything away.

Though we were indeed tired by early evening, I realised we’d had virtually no useful exercise and suggested a short walk to my somewhat reluctant spouse who nevertheless and typically, agreed to my idea. We picked our way carefully around the darkened camp, interested to glimpse the private life going on all round us but not wishing to appear intrusive and finally reached the street. There was no footpath, little traffic, few shops and few street lights around, but the moonlight was clear and bright so we walked for a short distance before accepting the reality of our fatigue and returning to our van and to bed. As I lay there I could see from my small window into the back of our neighbouring campervan, much larger than ours with a family all enjoying a meal together. It was a happy scene and I wished our flagging spirits could be as buoyant as theirs in this very beautiful place.

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