Cairns and Kuranda

Before I go on to talk about the towns of North Queensland, although I think Cairns is officially a city, I forgot to tell you about all the onboard activities that are designed to fill our time on seadays, in the seadays episode.

There really are some brilliant talks by some fascinating people. One such lecture took place while we were picking our way through the Great Barrier Reef between Brisbane and Airlie Beach.

We were addressed by a man whose job it is, is to ensure the safe passage of ships through the, what could be, bottom holing reefs. I know rumour abounds that the reef is the biggest living organism on the planet but in reality, or certainly from a navigational point of view, it is several living organisms of various sizes.

A Fijian gentleman, who now resides in Australia, was the expert in question and, I have to say, sometimes expert is such an inadequate label to pin on someone with so much skill and responsibility. Alas, at the time, when I wasn’t considering turning my journals to blogs, I failed to make a note of his name.

Basically, it is his job to be tendered out to any ship with a keel exceeding 70 metres in length to guide it through the ever changing channels that can be there one year and not the next. The reef, much like you and I, can change its dimensions, it can get fatter or it can get slimmer, depending on so many factors.

Our guide spoke for an hour and, honestly, it only seemed like ten minutes, I learned so much. It was worth the cruise money on its own.

Anyway, onto Cairns. I loved Cairns when I last passed this way, but, my word, it has changed in the intervening years.

To start with it seems far bigger than it was back then. I still liked the look of what I saw. It has to be said, though, that it is not without its own challenges. Like parts of many Australian towns and cities, it is apparent that there is, what seems like, ongoing deep reaching poverty within the indigenous community.

I was chatting to a friend recently, whose daughter lives in Australia, about this very subject. She had just got home from visiting Cape Town in South Africa, observing that the poverty in the native community was shocking beyond anything she had experienced before.

I would love the chance to speak to her about, what appears to be, an equally profound situation in her country of choice. I am by no means an expert on matters of a socio-economic subject, but I think it is very noticeable, especially coming from rural East Anglia, that these scenes play themselves out across the country.

I found it to be most thought provoking outside a casino in Adelaide. Gambling, drugs and booze all have a part to play. I know that there are some who believe they should be rounded up and placed in cages until they have been cured of their addictions, whereas others seem to think that if only the money could be found to provide good homes and education the problem would go away.

I daresay that, as is usually the case, the solution lies somewhere between the two. I realise that I am probably, no possibly, walking on broken glass here, but I do believe the aboriginal people have been given a raw deal ever since Lieutenant Cook’s discovery changed their lives forever.

I also recognise that if it wasn’t us it would have been someone else and, I reckon, the outcome would have been no different. Whatever your view, though, I can’t really see how you can find it anything but sad.

Never mind that, on with the fun stuff. We took an excursion to the rainforest, in and around the village of Kuranda. I once stayed in a Youth Hostel here and, to be perfectly honest, there wasn’t an awful lot to it.

Back in the day, I think it was pretty spot on to describe it as bohemian. It has now developed into a, sort of, arts and crafts playground for the artisans of the crafty world. To be fair, there is some lovely stuff on show. It even has paved roads now!

Undoubtedly, the highlight of the trip into the Cairns hinterland was the ride on the legendary Sky Rail. This was split into two intriguing sections.

On boarding our first gondola we found ourselves sitting with a couple of Canadians, they were not a couple, but were solo travellers. The female of the pair had been fascinated by me ever since laying eyes on me, don’t get the wrong idea, she was about a hundred and forty! My white cane can bring out the curious in people.

Some, like our new found Canadian friend, considered herself an expert on matters of a blind nature. It transpired that her only qualification was that she had once known of someone who had suffered from Age Related Macular Degeneration. I suppose, I shouldn’t shun these approaches, but it can become a touch on the intrusive side.

Jane soon realised my discomfort and started to point out the sights passing below us. My new friend would comment that it was very nice without taking her eyes off me before returning to the care that she helped provide to this acquaintance of hers who had suffered from AMD.

We eventually got off talking about me, you know how dates go, and talked a little about her. It has to be said, she was a game old bird. She lived in Ottawa and left every winter for Northern Thailand but, due to visa restrictions, could only stay for a maximum of thirty days at a time, so, this time, decided to cruise the eastern coast of Australia.

I think that this was the time we discovered you could join the ship in Sydney, she hadn’t been on the NZ leg, and she was going all the way through to Singapore.

It was about this time on the cruise that something called coronavirus was beginning to take a grip on the world and she was worried, as it happens with good cause, that she might not be able to get all the way to Singapore and, therefore, back to Chiang Mai for her second lot of thirty days. I have no note of speaking to her again, and I am sorry to report, that she never got through to Singapore, the cruise, in the end, terminated in Bali thanks to the covid thing.

Do you remember, a couple of episodes ago, I touched on some dangerous creatures that occupied the Queensland tropics? One such creature was the flightless bird, similar to an emu, that, if you cast your mind back, and according to old Bill Bryson, was capable of slicing you open with a deft cut from its razor sharp talons.

Well, this time we got the cassowary propaganda from another source. If you believe this they appear to be the cutest of cuddly things around. We had already encountered one game bird as mentioned above, and the female of the cassowary certainly seemed to be up for it.

She would find herself a mate, have her wicked way, lay the eggs and then abandon her chicks for the father to bring up; when you spot an adult cassowary trekking through the forest with a line of chicks behind, it is the dad not the mum!

She would then go off and look for another male to repeat the process all over again, so on and so forth. Added to this is the fact that they are a shy and retiring animal and you get a totally different impression than that gleaned a couple of weeks ago. To me, it sounds like the female of the species is far too forward for her own good and, coupled with this, the fact that the male can cut you into quarters without the need for a knife, doesn’t exactly portray them as shy and retiring.

The ride to the top was split into three sections with tremendous boardwalks to enjoy in between. On the second stop we wandered along to a viewing platform called “The Edge,” which overlooks Barron Falls, which I am sorry to report was operating at dribble level rather than torrent level.

The lookout also boasted one of those glass floors where you can look down at the massive drop to the forest floor below. They never bother me, probably because I can’t see past my feet, but one lady, not realising, stepped onto the glass, looked down and immediately panicked.

To start with it didn’t seem too bad, she simply froze to the spot, before her legs turned to jelly and she collapsed in a quivering heap, much like a jelly just out of the fridge. In the end she was coaxed off by a man, presumably her husband, to safety. Jane later confirmed that there was plenty of signage warning of the glass panels set into the deck. Sometimes, not often, blindness can be a real bonus!

We continued on up until we arrived in the village. If it was bohemian back in the early eighties, it was now bohemian with bells and whistles. Craft stalls were spilling out of the edge.

Jane took out her credit card and went on the rampage! She really did get some good stuff. She bought some beautifully crafted glass jewellery and some natural facial stuff for her, well… face! Tee shirts were purchased for the grandchildren and we were free to go off exploring. Don’t think it was all self on Jane’s part, she did spot some nice men’s clothing.

“What do I want that for?” I grumbled. “I’ve got enough clothing to see me out.”

I actually felt that that was true at the time, but now, all of a sudden, I am down to only three pairs of chinos, two of which are pretty threadbare. I do manage to be avoiding the lure of a town centre for the time being and, rather luckily for me, the Marks and Spencer online thingamabob is still down. Never mind!

I think it is safe to call it a village as opposed to a small town. It was quite a delightful little place. As with all good things they come to an end a little too quickly.

Before long we were on the coach back into Cairns, the Sky Rail was only one way for us. If taking the cable car above the very green tropical canopy was serene, the return leg was anything but. Very narrow roads, much like the Alps, with precipitous drops to one side and a series of scary hairpin bends made it feel like a rollercoaster ride. Give me the former any day of the week!

On arriving in the city we were given the choice, you know, that hands in the air sort of a thing, time was running short, as to whether we wanted to go to a municipal garden or a church.

Jane, having more horticultural blood than religious voted for the garden, and, of course, I supported her. I probably wasn’t too bothered either way and there weren’t any battlegrounds or castles to choose from.

We were outvoted. We spent about ten minutes exploring the Botanic Garden and, it has to be said, it was exquisite, even if we were told to keep an eye out for snakes.

We then trundled on to St Monica’s Church and, to be fair, even Jane declared it magnificent. It wasn’t so much the building itself, it was the stained glass windows, they were stupendous. They made the light in the nave feel blue for, in the main, they depicted the marine life populating the Great Barrier Reef.

Some of the windows were a lasting tribute to Queensland’s contribution to the Second World War. I know some of our parish churches are incredibly proud of their windows, and so they should be, but these just took the art of the stained glass glaziers to another level. It is nearly worth the entrance money to Cairns on its own.