YEPPOON

It's a miserable days driving out of Hervey Bay. We make it 400k north but it's lots of stopping and starting as many improvements are being made along the pacific highway, great if your planning on using the road in a years time, not so great at the moment. Although the building works and machinery make for good photos in the rain. A little beaten by the arduous monotony of the stretch we call it a day just outside Rockhampton (the beef capital of Australia, which could perhaps explain the pasty fiasco). 

Yeppoon is a half hour detour but the road is stunning. Coming into Queensland we've now lost an hour as we realise when at six thirty it's almost dark, the rain hasn't let off all day. We manage to pull into a beachside park exhausted and agitated just before the sky empties completely. And its Tuesday night again. Yeppoon is almost a pretty bog-standard, beachy place except the beach itself is incredibly long and sweeping and thick, surreal clouds stack high and gather around the rim of the valley basin atop hillsides framing the dominantly hot-blue sky and loom over little Yeppoon like the taunting stalls of a Roman amphitheatre. It also has LOADS of charity shops and as we've now cleared out just about all our junk we have a little room to acquire more. A perfect place to spend a Wednesday.

HERVEY BAY

So Hervey Bay has kind of been our unofficial target destination since leaving Melbourne. Noted as the place to be to see humpback whales and their young before they head south early in November. This year however for some reason they decide to begin their journey a little early and so, alas there is no whales to be seen. A little bummed to have missed them but happy to have made it so far north so quickly which wouldn't have happened had we not been chasing the idea. Next time. There is however a surplus of seals, sea hawks a curious pelican and probably the best fish and chips we have ever eaten so by no means a wasted stop. AND.. we're now in Queensland!

NOTE TO ALL VEGETARIANS: When passing through random little towns such as 'Gin Gin' be aware - a 'cheese and onion' pasty may not be the cheese and onion you have come to expect from a bakery! Now I know the name would suggest that your pasty will consist of good old cheddar (or  'tasty' as the Aussies would have it) cheese and onion but NO. Here in Gin Gin 'all the pies have meat in', as I’m told by a dumbfounded assistant in the bakery as I bravely (and naively) attempt to explain my dietary predicament. For starters mince beef and cheese is wrong regardless of my vegetarianism and If I did have to bite into a meat pasty, which I admit brought brief nostalgia (and probably a little well needed iron) to the system, it could at least have been a nice meat pasty!Anychew I was finally rewarded for the mishap with what I can only imagine started life as a vegetable pasty some ten years previous and has been kept deep in the back somewhere ever since for 'fussy' customers.

MOUNTAINS AND MOTORWAYS

Scenic Route. Sounds nice doesn't it? Well it's not. Not when when the scenic route isn't so much a route but rather a myth uttered flippantly by a 'help' desk assistant at the tourist information centre who didn't think to ask what type of vehicle we were driving, as if the no shoes, long hair and English accent wasn't a big enough clue that we weren’t in your standard Sunday touring, ******* hatchback! So you end up clung to the side of a mountain holding your breath because A) the suspense and fear is simply too much for your body to remember even the most menial of tasks, and B) if you were to breath you'd probably choke instantaneously on the fumes from your breaks and clutch!

We finally made it down from the mountain in a ball smoke terrified we were on fire! We were not, the breaks however were smouldering. We let Vanny rest for a while after her ordeal and sought some council on such mechanical matters (Thank you Ted who gets an early awakening with our woes). Three hours late out of Nimbin we don't make it far that eve, opting for a lay-by on the side of the highway. It's no showground but there's other people camping out so we're not alone and we're in good stead for the morning. Well, we didn't feel like a spliff when we got into Nimbin but we wouldn't say no to one after getting out of the place!

NIMBIN

We slip off the windily pacific highway just before the infamous Byron Bay onto open country road sweeping through an epic valley, encapsulated by high ridges and vast, stretching farmland toward the country town of Nimbin.

Nimbin was the home of the 1973 'Aquarius' festival and by looks of things most of the festival goers never made it home, the town certainly retained the festival vibe, I think I was propositioned to buy drugs on the street less in Amsterdam!

Like Amsterdam or Glastonbury or any other place that has made a name for its self as 'a bit hippy',  there is a great paradox at play in Nimbin. Hippy yes in terms of it's liberal look (or look away) on cannabis smoking (signs in outdoor areas of cafes don't read *No Smoking* but rather *No Bongs*, I guess they're only permitted in doors. But the centre is enough to make anyone not stoned out of their dreadlocks feel rather trapped, rather quickly. Trapped by an image of a lifestyle, the essence of which I know exists within Nimbin somewhere but it's not here, I suspect it's not incense, Bob Marley, semi precious stones, crystals, home made tinctures, chakra juice, rainbows or anything else that can be bought or sold.



Heading out early one morning we manage to catch a little real Nimbin, a local farmers market, less farmers as you might expect and more hobbyists, the locals of the town congregating as they do once a week to pick up groceries, share stories and above all show off their 'home-growns'. Here you got a sense of perhaps what it is to be a Nimbinian, a colourful array of chirpy characters young and old, a little crazy and slightly removed looking yes, but maybe removed is, in some respects just what they’re after here, a place that is a little more accepting of qwerks, a place where community, family and living happily and healthily seem top priority. Perhaps in a backwards kind of way, to sustain that lifestyle here, the Nimbin folk are reliant on the business that the tourisitc centre brings and after considering the Nimbin lifestyle aside from this, just whom exactly is crazy here anyway?

BELLINGEN

Out of Newcastle we hit Bellingen, a beautiful little shire-like village town some five hours north of Newcastle and a further five short of the Gold Coast. It's lush green and shady from huge old trees looming overhead. We kindly refuse the offer of the YHA to put the van in their 'carpark' and seek the towns showground which offers campers a flat, grassy spot with all amenities for a fraction of the usual site cost! As the sun sinks over the horizon leaving with it the remnants of the days heat thousands of bats descend around the showground creating a stunning backdrop to the early nights sky. We take a wander around that evening and stumble across a drum circle and dance performance in the park, too tired to join in we opt to cheer from a small distance supping cold beer, goodnight Bellingen!