Out on the Bruce again, past Bundaberg, Gladstone and Rockhampton, stopping just outside Rock for a bite to eat. We think we spot our first poisonous spider, a white-tail, crawling across the picnic table. With hindsight, it certainly looked malevolent enough, but it was about an order of magnitude too small. Never mind, it became the stuff of legend.
This country's incredibly beautiful, yet arid, dry, and parched. Clairview, we're told, hasn't had proper rain in 7 years, and everywhere we go is driest brown. Except, once in a while, the most brilliantly-coloured bush, (perhaps a Bougainvillea?) will flash past and be gone again. Where we pass through woodland, the trees on the skyline don't so much conceal the form of the landscape as expose it, and accentuate it, since the woodland is so open.We see plenty of roos, and an emu. Sadly, they're belly-up by the roadside. But a heron, disturbed from a small pond and reedbed, sits on the fence with curiosity, when we stop at a roadside services.
Much of the road north from Rockhampton to Mackay is dull, sad to say, despite its parched beauty. Or maybe it's we who are dull, as we press on for another mile, and another. There's about 100k of nothing north of Marlborough, except a few small settlements and a railway line alongside the road, before it curves back in towards the coast at Clairview. The map has me believe it's a reasonably-sized small town; the first major settlement actually near the highway for 100k - maybe there's a motel, and a bottle shop. Er, no. Actually, there's a beach, Clairview Beach Holiday Park, and a row of houses alongside the railway line. But joy! The Holiday Park, basic though it may seem, is a cracker.
Right on the beach, surrounded by trees, there's plenty of firewood, and plenty of space to pitch the tents. 39 dollars sees all 6 of us put up for the night. The beach, with mangroves and casuarinas growing down to the water, is really beautiful toward sunset, and the wildlife intriguing. Bush turkeys scurry away through the undergrowth, wherever we go. We head to the bar and corrugated tin-roofed restaurant for 6.30. Dire warnings about box jellyfish and salties are posted on the wall of the restaurant. There's one main course on the menu, garlic prawns, which are well worth the 600k drive to see. And then there's VB.And more VB. We light a campfire, and sit in the drifting smoke. Later, Chris, Rowena and I follow possums through the woods, wondering at such creatures. Once again, England seems a very long way off.
