26 July 2012 - Lismore Lake Holiday Park, Northern Rivers, NSW

The birds did indeed start early and herald yet another sunny morning. We headed out from camp before 10 am and headed north to Woodburn, a small town of less than a thousand inhabitants, situated on the Richmond River which started its life, unsurprisingly, as taking part in the red cedar rape. Perhaps I use that term carelessly however I do recall somewhere far far north of here, descriptions of the desecration of the Australian forests by those who came for the cedar, and so it does seem appropriate, at least to me.

Anyway, here we turned eastwards and headed the ten kilometres to the coast, to Evans Head. The Lonely Planet does not speak very kindly of this seaside settlement of just 3,100 folk, which survives on tourism and the prawn industry, however we found it to be absolutely delightful and the pick of many of seaside places we have called into over the past month or two. Yes, it may be sleepy, and have a rather modest café culture, but for us that makes it all the more attractive. We wandered along the northern bank of the river and out to the breakwater, to view the rather treacherous entrance, so much so that neither of us fancied venturing out to sea, even on a calm day like today. We did toy with checking in to the caravan park for a night or two, but then decided Evans Head was probably better suited to us if we were in need of a couple of day’s recuperation, such as we did in Normanton when I was sick last year. For the traveller there is walking and fishing; we enjoyed a little of the former and left the latter for those already settled in. Instead we drove across the river to the southern bank where the idle commercial fishing boats were moored and ate our lunch after another short walk. There we saw the manmade sea-eagle nest high up on a seventeen metre pole. Apparently with so much vegetation being stripped by those who have come even after the timber-getters, the ospreys must rely on such constructions. This I do not believe however there was an eagle in residence on the metre square platform which proves that if you offer hand-outs, they will become expected.

Fishing boats at Evans Head

And so after deciding that Evans Head would be worth checking out again sometime, or recommending to those who wanted somewhere peaceful to stay, we headed back to Woodburn, and took the road up here to Lismore.

Now this is a major road, sealed all the way; the road any normal person travelling from the south along the coast would take to reach this regional centre, but what a road! Uneven surfaces, subsidence, all that we have come to expect and worse! In fairness there were road workers busy on sections and some small sections that had been resealed, but the fact remains that it is appalling for roads to ever reach this state in the first place. Oh dear, I am back on my soapbox!

It was our intention to stay in the Lismore showgrounds, advertised in the CMCA bible, albeit last year’s edition. We allowed Tom-tom to take us across the city and out under a rail bridge so low that I hopped out to check we would fit under it, only to find the gates locked, no sign of other campers and looking most unwelcome indeed. So back into town we went to the Information Centre where the very friendly assistant gave me a map and a list of caravan parks, and advice that the tariffs were not available to the Centre.

The camp is on the Bruxner Highway on the way to Casino, opposite the airport and is not greatly patronised by casual travellers. The facilities are clean and very acceptable, the trees are numerous and the birds likewise. Our only fellow travellers are holed up in a Lotus, so I figure that likeminded discerning caravanners stay here. Their van is one of the more modern numbers, with the exterior in that grey steel colour which has become all the rage. Like us, they purchased their caravan at Woombye, but unlike us, seem to have had bad luck. Apparently the gentleman backed out of his drive without seeing a rather sturdy power pole and the damage to the exterior and the gas water heater is there for all to see. Perhaps they are not seasoned travellers? Perhaps we will make their further acquaintance tomorrow? In the meantime we are also holed up inside with the torrential rain dancing a din on the caravan roof. It will pass and hopefully tomorrow we will explore this city of 30,000 people and the surrounds where a further 15,000 live.