In the morning, after one of Jude's usual extra healthy breakfasts, we set off and had left the confines of the Brisbane and her suburbs fairly quickly as we crossed the Gateway, slipped past the airport and were into the Glasshouse Mountains in no time flat. This collection of fifteen volcanic plugs in various stages of eroded decay, were named by Capt James Cook as he sailed north to an engagement with the Barrier Reef. Clearly seen form off shore, Captain Jim was reminded of the glass kilns of his home of Yorkshire by the shapes of the mountains. For those who have travelled south west of Gunnedah, the same effect can be had when reaching Mullaley and seeing the shapes of volcanic domes rising rapidly off the floor of the plains ... its just that these are far more dramatic and of course, linked to the Great Navigator himself.
We took in what we could without walking - my knee still in a semi-swollen and uncomfortable state post Waratahs Reunion weekend - and settled for the main lookout in the area. It was overcast but bright so definition was hard to find on the faces of these ancient, sullen children, brooding as they are in their own corners of the playground. The best part of our stop were photos of a Pretty Face Wallaby and joey. Before leaving the area, we had very ordinary coffee break, featuring very ordinary coffee. We are starting to get a sense for when it is wiser to order tea.
|Pretty Face Wallaby|
On our way back to the Bruce Highway - only in Qld would a major arterial road be named Bruce - we called in at the Glasshouse Mountains Information Centre which was well resourced with people as well as information told through quality technology. Our first joint planning determined Hervey Bay as our destination for the evening and a site was booked and some SOP's agreed on. Until now, Sue had done all the planning and I just turned up but with us being well and truly on the road, it was time to be at least partially organised.
What struck us was the lack of rest stops in the first 250kms north of Brisbane. If you need relief or relief, you had to drive off the Bruce (no poofters) and into one of the many small town normally bypassed. It was one of these, Yandina, whose sporting oval played host to our lunchtime break and another of them, whose name was so easy to forget that I forgot it, which provided comfort through provision of a public toilet. Finally, Tiaro, gave us the chance to have a cup of tea (see, we are learning) and wait out an approaching storm. I wasn't driving through another wet outburst after the one near Beaudessert yesterday. Weatherzone - via my mobile phone - confirmed what our eyes told us, so we waited as the front passed through to the north of us. As a result, we drove only through showers and arrived at Hervey Bay after the tempest had spent it's fury.
We are booked in for two nights here just to do some strategic planning for the next three weeks.