We stayed for a whole week moving on from the caravan park to a council-run RV park at the other side of St Helens. It was large and spacious, well taken care of, and had sweeping views of Georges Bay. A laundromat and a coin-operated shower in walking distance. And if you walked a little longer, a provedore where you could buy fantastic sourdough bread.
At the end of our stay (it was a fullmoon weekend) there was an unexpected bonus: The Bay of Fires Arts Minifest put a rainbow over the cold and rainy weather. Most of it took place at the Panorama Hotel just down the road from where we stayed. The best part was the free live music on the large wooden deck overlooking the bay. The crowd was small but committed. Many seemed to know each other. A few women danced (not just me). We danced… in the sun, in the rain, into the sunset, and sang along with the songs we knew. Led Zeppelin, Dire Straits, Bob Dylan, and many more.
When we were at Georgetown, we came across it for the first time: a sign announcing a colony of little penguins in the scrubs along the rocky shore. We had a look but didn’t see anything. Later at Ulverstone and Penguin, we saw more signs, penguin statues, penguin photos, penguin info but not the real thing. Then we camped at the Apex Caravan Park, which is located at Penguin Point in Ulverstone.
While checking us in, the caretaker told us that we might see and hear the little penguins from the local colony at night. We heard their chattering and screeching. But we didn’t see them. A board at the entry to the shore explained it. They stay in the ocean all day feeding and only come back on land under cover of darkness. They make a desperate dash across the open expanse of the sand to the safety of their burrows. If you want to see them, you need to be prepared: stay up late, wear camouflage, have binoculars. Okay, we thought, this won’t be happening.
And then we saw them, unexpectedly. Coming back from the Harry Manx concert around 11 pm, we turned into the access road to our caravan park with the high beam on. There they were: five or six of them bumbling across the bitumen like small children, dwarf children learning to walk. Once they made it to the edge of the road, they threw themselves on their belly trying to hide. Seeing them was magical – a goodbye gift from existence before we left the North coast.
Here is a look at our itinerary on the mainland. Originally, we wanted to follow the Hume Highway from Sydney to Geelong. Luckily, we’ve changed our minds: The NSW South coast is stunning. And we avoided the ongoing flooding emergency inlands.
Impressed by its name and the great reviews on WikiCamps, we booked an unpowered site at the caravan park in Golden Valley. The place had a lovely vibe, lovely caretakers, and was well taken care of. What we didn’t realise, though, was that it lies at the edge of the Tasmanian central highlands making it much colder than locations north of it. Quamby Bluff towers over the valley and marks the border between the lush fertile north of Tasmania and its austere, harsh interior.
Serpentine after serpentine going south on the Highlands Road, only a short trip by car brought us to the high plateau: an alpine region with ancient plants, lakes, and a climate similar to Iceland or Southern Chile. Icy wind gusts, low vegetation, and then suddenly the Great Lake. Stunning views reminiscent of Norwegian shorelines. Fishing shacks made of corrugated iron. Also the general vibe was harsh: if you can’t handle it stay away.
The landscape is so wild and grand that I gave up on taking any photos. Have a look here for images of the region.
The next day, we went hiking. It was like an obstacle course. Liffey Falls, a popular waterfall, was closed due to damage from the floods in October. Projection Bluff started out okay, but soon led us to a lagoon that flooded the path. After trying to find a way around it through the thick scrub, we gave up and turned around.
The Quamby Bluff summit track, however, was welcoming – at first. A lovely path past a tiny Tibetan Buddhist monastery with views across the ridges led us to a forest thick with meter-high ferns. Soon we came to a tree that had crashed across the path. We scrambled over it. Then the next tree. We scrambled around it. Then a whole set of trees across the path… we turned around and enjoyed the lovely beginning of the path a second time in the opposite direction.
Our last night at Quamby Corner/Golden Valley was cold, so cold. We woke up to 0 degrees Celsius. You can see us here recovering with chai and hazelnut brownies at a coffee shop in Deloraine 😋
Minimum temperature 5 degrees, maximum 11 degrees. Wind gusts, icy rain showers. From our RV Farm Stay (a large open grassy field), we can see the snow on the mountain tops of the Western Tiers between Deloraine and Launceston. But now finally the sun is coming out!
This Farm Stay operates with an honesty box. Check out the photos below.
The end of October 2022, the second stop on our journey. We were still quite inexperienced – and fearful of the unknown (that’s me, Liz). Unfortunately, I had googled “Bellingen Showgrounds flooding” and brought up news stories of past years describing in dramatic detail how the town was cut in two by the raging river – and, of course, the Showgrounds belonged to the first areas to go under. On top of that, I was plagued by diffuse fears around safety in a showground…
The reality was completely different. The river was well-behaved and Bellingen a friendly town with a relaxed hippie vibe. The Showgrounds had a fairytale atmosphere. Quite a few tents and caravans spread out over a large, grassy area with old buildings. A large circle where kids practised horseback riding; big trees bathed in golden light. On top of that, a growers market on Saturday, and on our last evening (same day) a free community rock concert that had us dancing under the stars!
After Bellingen, we had another stop before Sydney, then looped around it and stayed one night in a caravan park southwest of Sydney. The original plan had been to take the inland route from there. Continue reading here.
A 3-hour drive from Brisbane, Iluka sits right at the edge of the huge river delta between the Clarence River and its many side arms and the Pacific ocean. A quick Google search revealed that it sometimes gets cut off from the mainland when the only access road floods. Hmm. Talking on the phone to the caretaker of the caravan park where we were headed, we got an optimistic response. Should be fine, but can’t guarantee. On the way down the coast from Brisbane, we could see signs of recent flooding either side of the M1 in the Byron Shire (Clothiers Creek) and after passing Ballina (around Woodburn).
We drove across the single access road into Iluka. There was no sign of flooding. And we were lucky: Our spot at the caravan park had tantalising river views (river was high and full of pelicans) and the sun kept shining for the three days we were there in the last week of October.
If you are in the area, make sure to pay a visit to the ancient Iluka Hotel at the foreshore (Sedgers Reef Hotel). This is where we had lunch with Victoria and Ian (sorry, no photo of Ian). See the background? This hotel is seriously old.
Severe flooding in NSW, Victoria, and also in Tasmania. Incessant rain in Brisbane, as we were cleaning our empty apartment for the new tenants. Grey skies. Suddenly our travel plans appeared in a different light: Was it a mistake to drive down into the wet southern states with our caravan at this time? During the last days in the river city – which had flooded this February (when we lost our first Scout-14 in the muddy waters of the swollen Enoggera Creek), we stayed in an Airbnb in one of the new towers in South Brisbane. Even though the apartment itself was friendly and had all the amenities we needed, the location was dystopian. Luxury meets trash. Our car was parked five storeys underground. Strangers. Loud traffic. People screaming in the street at night. But when we left the city on the M1 on the morning of October 25, the clouds cleared and the sun came out.
It stayed with us most of the way down the NSW coast.
We are Liz and Mike, two not-so-grey nomads from Brisbane. Please have a look at the About page to find out more.
How to read this blog:
Our journey began on 25 October 2022. If you like to read in chronological order, go to the first entry here. The most recent blog entry is always at the top.
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Liz Mike Travels 