In search of the biton baton

Trip Start Feb 14, 2007
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Flag of Australia  ,
Sunday, April 29, 2007

Having been disappointed that we would not make it to canarvon gorge due to its tracks only being passable with a 4wd, and no amount of pimping our ride could change priscilla from the shakey 2wd bone rattler she was, we decided to try cania gorge instead. It wasn't far, it was in national park land, it had a gorge and the bonus of a deluxe campsite that offered outdoor movies, a large pool and wine tasting...now that's what I am talking about. We arrived as the easter holidays were ending so what started as a hell hole of feral fizzy drink fuelled children turned into a blissful bush area of serenity and calm. That is of course if you ignore the abundant wildlife that will either awake you at the crack of dawn with their ear piercing squarks and never ending day call or steal anything you don't lock down. We became victims of a gang of cleptomaniac lorikeets who stole a mosquito coil, a candle wick, a tea towel, they ripped a lantern to shreds and tampered with some shower gel we had left out. Damn those pesky creatures. Nevertheless we did some hardcore camping, unpacked the frisbee,got to work on the beers, watched as roos and tiny bitons mooching about at sundown and made conversation with a bloke who reckoned he was related to the nolan sisters and some other guy who said he had had a park named after him in bundaberg, hmm I don't recall seeing knobber park on the town map.

We managed to get some gorge walking in all this r and r, although sadly as there had been no rain for such a long time the gorge had completely dried up and the river beds were barren.this meant the platypus had all moved on and everything was dry and dusty.

After about a week we decided to head on into the bright lights and promise of urban delights in gladstone. By all accounts a large city of 28000 people (of which we saw about 3) that claimed to thrive on industry, welcomed tourists and had something for everyone. Now to say I felt dispassionate about hervey bay made me think there could be nowhere shitter. I was wrong. The city is an eyesore of industrial chimneys and mine shafts breaking up what would have been a beautiful horizon. The campsite we stayed at I am sure was run by the mafia and only really welcomed axe murderers and defunct old people. The one good thing I will say is the city library offered free internet sessions. Oh hurrah. And with that we figured maybe we should take up the offer of being invited to stay with the german family we met at the farm at their new house in rockhampton...anything had to be better than this.
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