Leaving the Coast

The day out of Palm Cove began with breakfast and packing.

Six nights in the apartment had spread our belongings into corners that did not exist in camp. Food had migrated into cupboards. Chargers had found permanent sockets. Towels hung where towels were meant to hang. Each trip outside cleared another part of the apartment and reminded us how much had to fit back into Roger.

The coast had given us the reset we needed, but getting moving again still took a small mental shift.

Back Into Roger

During the Cairns errands, Roger had finally gone over a weighbridge.

The number was 3,180 kilograms.

That was close enough to the GVM limit that I immediately began calculating everything not present during the weigh-in. Water. Clothes. Loose boxes. The small purchases that never feel heavy when carried one at a time.

The upgraded suspension was designed for a 3.5-tonne constant load, so the setup was doing what it was meant to do. Still, the number changed the way I looked at the car. There was no harmless extra item anymore. Everything had a weight, even if we did not know it.

With the apartment empty and Roger full again, we climbed away from the coast towards Kuranda. The road rose quickly. The air cooled. Dense tropical vegetation replaced the resort strip and the trip began to feel mobile again.

Kuranda and Barron Falls

Kuranda was stranger than expected.

The shops offered crystals, alternative clothing, souvenirs and enough variations of tropical spirituality to make the town feel slightly detached from the road around it. We walked through the market area trying to understand whether Kuranda was a working town with a tourism layer or a tourism attraction with residents attached.

Probably both.

Barron Falls required less interpretation. The gorge and waterfall immediately pulled attention away from the crowds at the viewpoint. After the small visual noise of Kuranda, the scale of the landscape was a relief.

Then we continued towards Mareeba.

Coffee and Sugar

Jaques Coffee Plantation became my first-ever coffee tasting.

Around Mareeba and Atherton, local coffee turns up often enough that a tasting did not feel like a random tourist stop. Several small coffees felt educational rather than excessive.

The cold brew was my favourite. Smooth, cold and easy to drink.

Possibly too easy.

We added a scone, enjoyed the caffeine and sugar for a while, then experienced the predictable downer later in the afternoon.

Before camp, we stopped at Coles. Six days in Palm Cove had made supplies feel casual again. Heading back into bush camps meant thinking ahead about food, water and what could not be bought after arrival.

Back to Bush Camping

Emerald Escape returned us to bush camping.

The private property had large sites separated by enough distance that choosing one mattered. Site six required a short 4WD approach, not difficult but rough enough to make the arrival feel separate from the main camping area.

The site looked across a valley and gave us a clear sunset. Nobody else would join us. We could collect firewood. The temperature sat in the rare middle where neither heat nor cold controlled the evening. Even the insects behaved.

We unpacked the kitchen, positioned the chairs and built a fire. Within an hour the apartment routine had disappeared. The private view felt more luxurious than a pool because it belonged only to the two of us for the night.

Everything was amazing until I climbed into the rooftop tent.

Steph was already inside and had not noticed anything unusual.

I looked towards her and saw a large spider sitting right beside her.

I told her not to move. Only about a minute later did I mention the spider.

We were both slightly freaked out and definitely did not want to sleep with a large spider next to us in the tent. We had seen a similar spider in Cape York several days earlier and immediately wondered whether it might somehow be the same one, travelling unseen through multiple camps and six nights in Palm Cove.

That was probably nonsense.

The adrenaline was pumping anyway.

I climbed back down for one of our cooking pots because anything smaller felt too difficult to handle. Steph kept watching the spider so we would not lose it while I came back up.

We worked together to cover it with the pot, secure something on top of the pot and carry it carefully down the ladder. The main concern was not being bitten. It was losing the spider somewhere inside the tent.

We released it a fair distance from Roger. It was probably only a huntsman and looked far more dangerous than it was, but that was easier to appreciate once it was outside.

Back in the tent, we checked every corner, lifted bedding and looked behind anything capable of hiding another traveller.

The valley remained beautiful. Sleep took a little longer.

Emerald Creek Falls

The next morning began with a jungle-gym session and a 4WD track towards Emerald Creek Falls.

The camp map suggested an exit towards the official car park. A sign near the end told us to leave Roger and walk. It also meant we would be driving back out the same way later.

Only after continuing on foot did we understand why.

The track dropped into a steep rocky water crossing. We removed our shoes and crossed carefully, then joined the official walking route to the viewpoint.

The falls were impressive without requiring a major hike. On the return journey we stopped at a waterhole and stood in the water long enough to cool down.

Then a snake slipped into the crossing ahead of us.

It entered exactly where our bare feet needed to go.

We waited and watched the surface. Nothing moved. That was not especially reassuring.

Eventually we crossed with much more concentration than before, placing each foot slowly and scanning both banks. Nothing happened, but the same stretch of water now felt entirely different.

Back at Roger, the rough drive out was enjoyable. We stopped beside the lake for lunch, pleased to be camping and exploring again.

Waiting for Platypuses

The day’s main mission was a platypus.

Before that, Atherton supplied another local coffee stock-up.

At Yungaburra’s viewing area, we watched the water and saw nothing.

Our campsite at Bonadio RV and Nature Park also promoted platypus sightings, so we arrived around 3 pm and went straight to the river.

Nothing there either, and I was starting to mentally prepare for disappointment.

The park itself turned out to be an excellent overnight stop. It was busier than expected by late afternoon, but the neighbours were easy and relaxed.

Platypus watching changes normal water into a collection of possible signs. A bubble becomes significant. A dark leaf resembles a back. A ripple deserves several minutes of attention before being blamed on current or wind.

After two attempts, I began to think we had missed our chance.

Before dusk I walked down again, this time without much confidence. The light was lower and the river looked calmer. I stood near the bank and waited.

A small dark shape broke the surface.

It disappeared before I was certain.

Then it surfaced again.

A platypus.

Before I had fully followed the first one, another appeared further along the river. Then a third surfaced close to the bank, near enough to see the shape of its bill before it rolled under again.

After hours of examining empty ripples, there were suddenly too many places to look.

I was stoked.

The excitement came partly from the animal itself and partly from the wait. I had almost stopped expecting to see one, and then three appeared within a few minutes.

That night the temperature fell to around ten degrees. We brought out warm clothes and extra blankets, only days after Cape York, where the nights had stayed above 27.

Three Waterfalls and Breakfast

The next morning we followed the waterfall circuit near Millaa Millaa.

Three stops produced three very different falls. We did not need to turn the morning into a major hike. The roads and short walks linked them easily, and the variety prevented the circuit from feeling repetitive.

We made breakfast beside the first one using the back of Roger as the kitchen again.

Coffee and breakfast beside a waterfall were difficult to beat.

Only two nights had passed since Palm Cove, but the coast already felt distant. The air was cooler, blankets had returned and the landscape had shifted to farms, forest and inland roads.

From Millaa Millaa, we made our way onto the Savannah Way. The traffic thinned and the landscape started to change.

The coast was now behind us.