Gone Camping

Theresa Ck Damn - Click for pics

You know what I like about camping? Everything 'pops' up. You squeeze everything into the boot and when you arrive everything folds out or is pumped up (like in that episode of the Goodies). It's like a live action pop up book. Tent, boat, beds, tables, chairs - pop! I really am easily amused.

We found a decent camping spot about 80 minutes from Moranbah. It's called Theresa Creek dam and it's not far from a little town called Clermont - a town not big enough for franchise fast food shops like Red Rooster, but it does have two IGAs. The camping ground is by a nicely sized dam stocked with Golden Perch, Jewfish, Saratoga and Silver Perch... I'll have to suit up and do some fishing next time. No really. Maybe. It's a catch and release system, which is good for me because I prefer the quick and easy fish and chips (Red Rooster have fish now... seems they serve any white meat... except rooster... oh, I forgot... poor Clermont, sorry, none for you).

The campsites are free for shire residents and has plenty of toilets and hot showers. It's really dry out here, so the campfire wood is really dry and burns quick. We spent all night poking things into the fire to see what happened to them. My coke can disappeared in seconds! That's hot.

New Zealand: Full of Zeal but hardly new

New Zealand Holiday2005

(Click the pic for the full gallery) This is an old post from July 2005

New Zealand is green, really green, and there are lots of hills and sheep. Each hill seemed meticulously planned and sculptured. I wanted to run up each one - Julie Andrews style -, but that’s just me, I'm told - they don't care for that crap in New Zealand. Sheep are sprinkled on every hill like so much dandruff and there are cows everywhere (Yeah, I hate it when people say ‘like so much…’ too). Even in the middle of Auckland I saw cows. Man, that and the Warehouse (post Silly Solly) bargain stores! The people have the strangest accent in the world and they don’t seem to realize it. When quickly is pronounce quuckly you know something needs to be adjusted. It’s impossible to even spell the word quuckly. A ‘q’ and two ‘u’s? Can’t be done… it’s just wrong.

New Zealand television seems to be obsessed with cows and Coronation Street. There are only 3 main channels but I seemed to find enough to keep me interested late at night. Big Brother is three weeks behind and is shown weekdays at 12..? Gee, why bother… why Big Bother… perhaps these Kiwis are smarter then they seem. New Zealand comedy is actually pretty funny and I’m not sure why it is that I’m surprised by that. They are a sarcastic lot and as far as life is concerned, they seem to get the joke. I like that about them because not many nations are onto that. Take South Africa for example. They are sort of like a bizarro New Zealand, they have a funny accent but are totally not in on the joke (do you know what I mean? is it just me? Why are South Africans so pompous?)

The coastline around Auckland is just beautiful and rugged and every bay comes free with at least one island. One particular Island – Goat Island off Leigh - was so dreamlike to me that I had to come back with snorkeling gear so that I could swim out to it and touch it. Looking is not enough sometimes. If I wanted to look I would have hired the video. I am the biggest wimp when it comes to cold water but I just didn’t care. It was freezing, but after a while I became so numb that it didn’t matter. I got to the island and explored some caves. Cool. Definitely a highlight… especially the extraordinarily friendly fish that followed me around and the waterfall that fell into the crystal clear turquoise waters there. The friendliness of the fish was only just surpassed by that of the people (syrupy, but true).

Even after admonishing them for continuing to speak the way they do they still fed me and asked me if there was anything they could do about the weather. It’s either raining or it’s briefly pausing between showers. It’s an amazing place. It really is. The weather is cold so God provides hot springs and sulphuric steaming mudpools. The public toilets are ten years ahead of the rest of the world with swooshing automatic doors, push button toilet paper, light sensitive soap/water/air dispensers and many of the stainless steel walls had drilled holes in them so that you could see into the cubicle next to you. Ummm… actually that was a bit strange but I didn’t question their customs.

Apparently there are no cockroaches in New Zealand. I saw one though out in the backyard and told my hosts about it. They didn't believe me... as they were vebalising their disbelief, the very same looking cockroach crawled along their couch. Did I bring them over?

The house I stayed in had it’s share of ghost stories and we were not disappointed. One night as we went to sleep, we heard someone walk passed the room and use the toilet and we gave it no thought. Why would we? The next morning we found out that no one went to the toilet. Our hosts who slept in the room at the end of the hall have their own ensuite and don’t use the one adjacent to our room. This made for some interesting questions concerning the afterlife and the loo.When I look back on my holiday in New Zealand I remember the impossible greenness of it all, I remember the naturally heated thermal stream I soaked in, hidden and away from the tourist traps, and I remember being held up in customs for trying to bring home two air propelled plastic bb guns. Damn, I miss those guns.

From Maroochydore to Moranbah

I was born, bred and buttered on the Sunshine Coast all my life - 35 years - and it was time to leave. I knew that becoming a teacher would someday mean I would have to leave town but I suppressed the inevitables and bit the bullet. I hoped I'd get lucky and end up in a small well equipped town with cheap teaching accommodation. It turns out, I eventually did get lucky on that front.

Leaving the coast felt like being expelled from Eden, and six hours into the twelve hour drive I choked on the idea that I'd been cast out into the Australian outback because of poor life planning or inadequacy. I expected to see cherubims with flaming swords behind me. I've played my cards and I've made mistakes, but here is where we are and it's much better than I expected.

As we drove closer to Moranbah we drove under the darkest skies I'd ever seen. If I was superstitious it would have felt ominous, except that rain clouds in this area are a hopeful sight. It rained for about four days non stop because of a cyclone off the coast. The heaviest longest rain I have seen in a long time and very unusual for the area. The town is usually dry and brown but for the time being everything is as green as New Zealand on St. Patricks day.

The first thing you notice when you enter Moranbah is the wide streets and lack of traffic lights. Not a traffic light in sight and no roundabouts either. I'm sure this is a land my father dares to daydream about. I've never seen anyone despise the ruby hued illuminations as intensely as he does.

On exploration of the town, there's something else that struck me as unusual... something not quite right... Unchained bikes at public bike racks! Nobody locks their bikes up! At the schools, the public pools, the town centre - it's open slather for would be cyclist cleptomaniacs. Bring a truck up here and pillage should you be that way inclined, they're ripe for the picking.

It's a great town. The library is modern, cool, and very well stocked. The Video Ezy caters for all the spendthrift mining men and has a selection of DVDs I've never even seen equalled in major cities. The public swimming pool is very inexpensive to join and has a large 25m heated pool along with a kiddies pool and a 50m sparklying blue respite from the sun. I swim nearly every day and am more wet more often than I was on the Sunshine Coast.

There's 'more-in-bah' with a Red Rooster, a KFC, a Dominos, a nice cinema with recent releases, a decently sized Coles and an indecently sized Target. The town square is being refurbished and should look great in a few weeks. Everything is an easy bike ride from home and no one drives fast. If I was a sportsmen I'd be a happy man, but I'm not so I don't care... alienating as that might be for me, it's nice to know I've options should I become a team player.

I miss my friends, I miss my party pals and I miss my bud - heaps. 1200 kms doesn't feel too far anymore and the net 2.0 keeps us together on some new age level. Friends are rare and they're hard to make and they're hard to keep, especially when you're an alien in a strangish land.

In short, it is a great town and we've settled in; the people seem nice and my internet connection works fine. Broadbanding it before too long and will blog about the house and school soon.