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Published: November 28th 2006
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Odie and I both wanted to see a couple of the national parks near Brisbane so, after realising that we didn't get on each other's nerves too much, we hired a car and hit the road. Due to a shortage of Corollas, we were upgraded to a Holden Commodore for the same price, which was only the first of several pieces of good fortune during the trip. With Odie being on holiday from work rather than on an extended vacation, I was pleased to hear that she liked the idea of motels and restaurants rather than dorms and 2 minute noodles.
First stop was the Glasshouse Mountains, less than an hour north of Brisbane (I'd actually passed them in the Greyhound from Rainbow Beach), 9 pinnacles jutting unexpectedly out of the plain. Quite why Captain Cook gave them their English name is unclear, and the local Aboriginal interpretation - that they are the petrified forms of a family fleeing the incoming tide - is a good deal more interesting.
A couple of the mountains require specialist climbing skills, which neither of us possessed, so we simply did a base walk around Tibrogargan, encountering some large spiders along the way,
and then a hot, sweaty, and tiring slog up to the peak of Ngungun, which afforded magnificent views of the other mountains as well as all the way to the Sunshine Coast.
Since Odie hadn't seen anything but coast on her holiday so far, we decided to head inland to spend the night, choosing randomly the town of Warwick - famed for its cheese and annual rodeo - simply because it was in the Rough Guide and had some accommodation recommendations. Arriving in Warwick in the early evening, we saw a motel that looked rather swisher than average and, on making enquiries, found they had an available room at an acceptable price. It was also walking distance from the main drag. The owners were friendly, helpful, and a little strange. The husband was the campest married man I've ever met, and both he and his wife were sufficiently well-dressed as to be noteworthy in an Australian Outback town. They gave us a beer each and, when they heard we intended visiting Currumbin Sanctuary, started plugging a recently-opened local zoo like crazy, which was all very well but it seemed to be lacking precisely the Australian fauna that we wanted
to go to Currumbin to see.
Since the only recommended eatery in the guidebook had closed down 2 weeks ago, we chose a nearby Chinese restaurant that was one of 3 in the vicinity and extraordinarily large inside - especially for the mere dozen or so other customers. It had table service, which Odie had apparently been suffering withdrawal symptoms from, and the waitress even went out to buy us a 6-pack when we enquired about the availability of take-out beer.
A good night's sleep ensued, which was especially welcomed by Odie as for the previous week she'd unerringly been picking out noisy hostels to stay in. However we did leave Warwick with the sense that we'd missed out on something. Where was the cheese that the town was supposedly famous for? Why were there so many people at the motel? How could an Outback town of 12,000 people support 3 Chinese restaurants? Why were 2 people with designer spectacles running a motel in such a place? Is the similarity between McCafe and my own surname a mere coincidence? Deep questions all, and all destined to remain unanswered. It's no wonder that the evening's conversation got round to
Twin Peaks.
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Chris
non-member comment
uh
that spider alone makes me doubt a trip down under... but not really. wow.