7 June 2011 - Country Stopover Caravan Park, Maryborough, Queensland

This evening, we are camped here beside the Bruce Highway, amongst trees full of birds who compete with the noise of the tracks as they barrel on up and down this busy highway. This Stopover is aptly named, conveniently situated, and not pretending to be anything but that. We are unlikely to stop over here again.

We left our lovely camp by the Mary River at about ten o’clock this morning and travelled the short distance north to Maryborough, a lovely town of over 26,000 people. It was an important port in the mid-nineteenth century, as immigrants poured into the country direct from Europe after gold was discovered near Gympie, and it was an important export port for wool, timber, sugar and gold. It was also the point where the black-birded Kanakas, a version of press-ganging that I learned about years ago when I was resident in Vanuatu, were brought in and on to the sugar cane plantations. Kanaka is a slang word for South Sea Islanders, or more particularly those that were brought forcefully to these shores, and then later when the White Australian policies were implemented, scorned and evicted where possible. They came mainly from the Solomon Islands and Vanuatu, and so are generally of Melanesian ethnicity.

We found ourselves an excellent park near the Information Centre, set up especially for caravanning travellers, and were able to leave it there for the greater part of the day while we explored this delightful town on foot.

Boats on the Mary River

Queens Park alongside the Mary River is lovely, with its huge banyan trees and network of paths. From there we accessed the port district where the buildings and trees appear as they did over 150 years ago. The Bond Store Museum is a hive of information recounting the fascinating history of this area, and we were treated to the personal guided tour of the volunteer on duty, until he was distracted by further visitors and we were left to discover the secrets of the museum for ourselves.

Close by we discovered a couple of art galleries, Gatakers Artspace where we enjoyed the exhibition by three artists, two obviously of aboriginal heritage, Belynda Waugh and Sid Domic, whose work impressed us both, and a New Zealander of Maori heritage, Maude Cook-Davies, who impressed us less. Upstairs there were a couple of other exhibits, one of which we respected for the artists talent, but the content evaded us.

The second gallery was exhibiting local amateur works; we did not linger long here.

Banyan trees

As per normal, time gets away when you are wandering about galleries and museums, so it was nearly one o’clock when we returned to the caravan with fresh bread for lunch.

A Queenslander; the architectural style

Once refuelled, we set off on foot again to the Brennan and Geraghty’s Store Museum, one of three preserved retail stores in the world. The store had opened in 1871, and closed in 1972, complete with stock dating back to  the Museum, saw the entrance and realised that it would be simply an array of chattels and provisions all of which we had viewed ad infinitum in other regional museums, we decided we would give it a miss, but returned to the rig via another street.

There are no free camps around Maryborough or Hervey Bay (pronounced Harvey), unless we were to back track to last night’s Petrie Park, and so we conceded that a caravan park was the order of the day. Price was the driving force, and so we headed back out to the main highway to this camp, ready to work our way back toward the town if we found those further away full.

Here we were greeted by the proprietor, Janet and her sheep dog. The reception office is desperately in need of renovation, as is Janet. She was pleasant, helpful and unassuming. We could choose a space wherever we wished and she showed us on a map where the amenities were.

Very sub-standard facilities

We drove on around past the office and regretted that we had not done as one of our friends consider an essential exercise; check the park out before payment. As with most life experiences, one needs to fall on one’s own face before a lesson is learned.

The concrete pad we have placed our wheels on is not even. The water is not drinkable, it is bore water and best not channelled through the van’s water works, and certainly not through our own.

The washing machine found in the corner amongst the derelict wrecks, did work, but was slow and did not spin the clothes very well. Hence they are still hanging wet on the line outside. On a positive note, the machines are satisfied with a mere $2, so what can you expect?

We have touched base with Larissa to wish her a happy birthday, but unfortunately not on Skype. We do have internet, but reception is weak. Television reception is non-existent. Reading and Scrabble may be the order of the evening.