Have Dog Will Travel – Part II

For the ten years prior to 2010, Queensland had experienced a severe drought. In the last 7 days of 2009, heavy rain began and this continued on and off until the second half of March 2010. In between whiles Cyclone Olga struck the far north of the state and its effects were also felt, to some extent, in the south. In late February a massive low came in from South Australia and dumped huge amounts of rain on an already sodden Queensland. With the land completey saturated, there was simply nowhere for a water to go, and severe flooding occurred throughout much of the state. In fact, this was the most widespread heavy rainfall event ever recorded in Australia. At one time 1.9% of the total area of the country was under water.

Once the floods had subsided, we decided to explore the areas that had been affected, not so much out of a ghoulish wish to ogle, but mainly because we’d heard reports that the normally dry interior would be a picture to see, with green grass where none usually grew and plenty of wild flowers. It sounded like a sight worth seeing.

Our first stopover, Warwick, is on the Condamine River, which had come down in flood and cut off the town for a time. It was founded in 1849 on land that belonged to the Leslie brothers, the first Europeans to buy and farm land in the area. It’s an area that boasts beautiful pasture land and is famous for its horse and cattle studs.

There are plenty of places of interest in the town and in the outlying areas. Some that come to mind are the Pringle Cottage, the Warwick Regional Art Gallery, Leslie Dam, and the Main Range National Park.

One of the big advantages of having a dog is that it ensures forced walks for the owner. I’m not sure if everyone would agree, but we see it as a plus. And the fact that we were travelling didn’t change that routine. Before we packed up and left the campground at the Darling Downs Hotel outside Warwick, we took a walk along Sandy Creek Road and admired the various farm houses and crops we saw along the way.

As I’ve mentioned before, dogs were not Gemma’s favourite form of life, and, as luck would have it, we encountered a three-legged hound enthusiastically hopping along the road. Whether the poor thing had lost its brains along with its limb I’m not sure, but it didn’t seem to pick up on the fact that Gemma’s snapping and snarling was not a friendly overture. Maybe it just didn’t care. It followed us for ages and we let out a sigh of relief when we finally reached our caravan and the tripod dog decided to befriend the more suitable amiable horse instead.

Once we’d hitched up the van we continued with our adventure. Our route took us via Goondiwindi, a town we’d last visited ten years before. On that trip we’d arrived in the town just as the sun was setting, a brilliant blaze of fiery gold lighting up the west. As luck would have it, the town was full of cotton gritters (people who used to weed the cotton plants by hand) and it was almost impossible to find accommodation. All the campgrounds, caravan parks, hotels and motels were full. Eventually we managed to get a cabin in a caravan park – at an exorbitant price. No doubt the park manager was cashing in on the scarcity of accommodation and no self-respecting cotton gritter was going to pay his high prices.

The cabin was fine, but the campground was full to the brim with people, caravans and tents in every conceivable place. Sometime during a night of heavy drinking, a fight broke out and loud voices and yelling continued for over an hour. We were a bit concerned our vehicle would be damaged, as the fight appeared to be close to where it was parked, but in time the noise subsided and the campground fell into a deep and snoring slumber.

Needless to say, at first light we left.

We had no intention of staying in Goondiwindi this time around, not because of our previous experience – we knew that was likely a one-off, unlikely to be repeated – but because it was still early in the day and we wanted to get to St George.

Goodiwindi is situated on the MacIntyre River and it had also been affected by the floods. It’s an interesting town and well worth a visit. The area was explored by Allan Cunningham in 1827 (the Cunningham Highway is named after him) and was eventually settled by sheep and cattle farmers in the 1830s. The name Goondiwindi comes from the Aboriginal word gonnawinna, which means ‘resting place of the birds’. It has a historic pub, the Victoria Hotel; and a cotton gin, (not surprising in a region famous for its cotton) amongst other attractions. If you’re going to spend some time in the area you could visit the Southwood National Park or the 25-ha Botanic Gardens of the Western Woodlands.

The countryside is flat and trees line the road, so it’s not really easy to see what agricultural activities take place. In spite of that we did see plenty of fields of bright white ripe cotton, swarms of heavy machinery working away, and stacks of blue-tarp covered baled cotton.

After our short stopover and a coffee in Goondiwindi, we headed off towards St George.

Have Dog Will Travel – Part I

A few years ago we lit on the bright idea of buying a caravan so that we could tour around Australia when we retired. We rejected the idea of staying in motels as we had a German shepherd called Gemma at the time and most motels wouldn’t allow us to have pets. With that in mind,we decided we were past the tent stage of our lives, a camper trailer would take too long to erect when overnighting, and a motor-home had the disadvantage of having to carry our ‘shell’ with us wherever we went. So that left a caravan; and a caravan had the added advantage that we could leave Gemma in it at times while we did our shopping or visited national parks etc.

For some reason that’s now obscure, we decided on a pop-top rather than a solid top. I think that was because we felt it would be easier to store and tow, but it proved to be a mistake. There are no real advantages when storing or towing and if we had a dollar for every time we’ve bashed our noggins on the mechanism to raise and lower the roof we would be very rich. Plus if you want to fit an air-conditioner the roof has to be strengthened, not to mention that we think you might well get more storage space in a solid top.

Anyhow, after looking at numerous vans we bought a single-axle second-hand Jayco Heritage.  The salesman who sold it to us did warn us with a cheesy grin that Jaycos can be dodgy. The company had over 50% of the market share at that time, so, as he explained with yet another teeth-whitened grin, ‘you’re bound to get some Monday and Friday vehicles’.

Ours is one of those.

We didn’t know that at the time, though, so we set off into the wild west of the Queensland outback in order to test out our newly acquired home and to see whether Gemma would cope with the gypsy lifestyle. As you can tell, Gemma’s participation in this proposed adventure was key to its success. We were, after all, planning to explore Australia in this thing when we one day retired.

Complete with a book of free and cheap campgrounds, we set off into the hinterland.

Now I should explain that Gemma was no ordinary dog. She was, to put it nicely – difficult. While she loved people, she felt other dogs had no right to be on the same planet as her, and that made walks, and potentially travelling with her, a bit tricky. We had to be constantly on the alert in case a canine strayed into her orbit. We’d tried taking her to various dog trainers and even a dog whisperer, but all, alas, had given up on her. In hindsight, we should have had a clue as to what we were in for when she flunked puppy class.

We stopped for morning tea in Beaudesert and to check that all was okay with the van, and then continued on towards Warwick.

That first night we camped at the Darling Downs Hotel, more commonly known as the Sandy Creek Pub, situated about 10kms west of Warwick along the Cunningham Highway, and then 3kms along Sandy Creek Road.

We were the only ones there – which suited us fine with our tetchy hound – and we had our pick of good spots. We chose to set up under the shade of a tall gum, the hotel and its yard at our backs, and with a view out over a field with a friendly horse in it and a go-kart track that was obviously only used over weekends.

There was little traffic on Sandy Creek Road, which maybe isn’t so good for the pub, but was great for us. The pub offers showers for a fee and some meals: lunches on Sunday and dinner on Friday and Saturday. As we were there during the week, we decided to try out our van’s cooking facilities rather than opt for a cold snack. This was our first introduction to the eccentricities of our gas stove. As my husband is wont to oft repeat: Can you believe you have to use a barbecue lighter to light the stove? It has no ignition of its own unless its connected to power.

Once we had it going we cooked ourselves a simple dinner of lamb chops, but this proved to be another mistake. The fat splattered everything around it and the hot air rising from the cooking chops set off the smoke alarm! That cleaned up and quelled, we sat outside in the cool of the autumn evening, drinks in hand, and devoured the view along with our food. Gemma lay contentedly beside us and gnawed on the odd chop bone tossed her way.

As the light faded and the stars twinkled into life we could hear the distant sound of a light aircraft doing touch and goes at the airport, and the occasional muffled roar of a heavy truck passing by on the Cunningham Highway.

Eventually we went inside and lay awake in the dark listening to the soft strains of the 60’s music beamed to us from a radio station in Brisbane. We fell asleep charmed by the magic of our surroundings, and pleased with the way the first day of our adventure had gone.