Day 10 - Alligator Creek, Greenvale, Undara National Park

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There is no worse way to wake up in the morning than having Brush Turkeys falling out of the sky. I kid you not. The resident Brush Turkeys of Alligator Creek sleep in the trees. In a co-ordinated morning wake up mission, they return to earth on mass. It’s most disturbing and I, still reeling from an ignominious defeat at the hands of ‘sly hand Whittle’ in round 2 of the scrabble challenge the previous evening, was not in the best of humour to start with. Things started to improve when we mounted the ‘save the frog from the drain’ expedition. Chris personally dismantled the plumbing system of one of the sinks and was left holding the length of pipe with the frog in it. It appeared that the frog didn’t want to be rescued after all. It clung on for dear life as Chris tried to shake it free. As we left we were both left wondering if it was a good deed or not.

Today, in the words of the Village People, we ‘Go West’ and head for Undara Volcanic National Park about 450kms from Alligator Creek. We start the morning with a short walk along the creek which is serene and Alligator free but we still baulk at having a swim. We initially head towards Townsville and then head inland. The scenery changes as does the road as it reduces from a solid two- lane, each way to one lane each way. The volume of traffic drops significantly and townships become further spread out. It is in this scenario that we decide to take a break in Greenvale. Curiously named as there is no obvious greenery on show. In fact, nothing is green. Even the golf course doesn’t have greens. They have browns. Furthermore, I am thinking that the flags at each hole are probably not Golf Association Australia approved, either. Also, from my observations, I feel sure that the sign outside the Greenvale Country Club cost more that the whole clubhouse.

We leave Greenvale, disappointed at being misled and we begin a long stretch where the next stop was the invitingly named Blue Water Springs Roadhouse. We have ‘Ned Kelly’ the Peter Fitzimmons version, talking book to keep us company on the long drive. By the time we eventually got to the roadhouse we were ready for a coffee. As we alighted the vehicle, a feeling of despair came over us. Chances of Cappuccino ….zero. Chances of Skim milk…..zero. Regrettably, however, we passed the point of no return. The tinkle of the bell over the spring- loaded screen door announced our arrival back into 1960. Once over the threshold the years fell away. It began to feel like the beginning of a horror movie where two unsuspecting tourists are kidnapped, tortured and then chopped up.

Chris asks for a cappuccino. “Only Instant.” comes the gruff reply. ‘How bad can it be.?’ I think to myself. We order two. The woman disappears into the back room. We browse the knick knacks on offer. “Hey, I remember these from when I was a kid.” I say. The woman returns with two take away coffees. As she hands Chris his coffee, it spills. Chris swears, as boiling water with 10 grains of coffee in it runs down his left hand. The woman apologises and takes Chris into the back room to run his hand under cold water. Suddenly, I am alone. I take a closer look at my surroundings. My mind wanders and I envisage a man wearing a blood splattered butchers apron appearing through the back door. I think of Wolf Creek. I think of Snowtown. Can this be the ‘Blue Water Springs massacre unfolding with me in it.? The back room door opens. I close my eyes. “Such is Life.?” I say waiting for the axe to fall. ‘Thank God. I’m spared’. Chris and the woman come through the door having a joke at something’. I pretend everything is cool.

When I regain my composure, we are back in the car with two of the worst coffees ever made. Both get thrown out. Instant in, instantly out. We head to Undara, which in Aboriginal means, Long Way. Unlike Greenvale this is very well named. It’s a bloody long way. We arrive just as what looks like the worst storm to hit these parts in a generation is about to hit. We scramble wildly to get the tent up and everything waterproofed. We manage to do this in record time. The storm never comes. It was the National Parks and wildlife, conducting back burning operations. We knew that!



Undara is the home of numerous volcanic lava tubes. Not knowing much about these geological formations, we decide to book a tour for tomorrow. With that, it was time for dinner. Chris cooked a fantastic Chicken Curry and then it was time for bed. As I lay down to sleep my mind is awash with ‘Murder, bloody murder.’ Goodnight, sweet dreams.

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