After a short stop at the nearby mall, to get fuel, bread and coffee, we started the long winding road to Eungella National Park, this time with Lilach behind the wheel. Our destination was “Platypus Bush Camp” in Pinch Hatton gorge. It had been a bit hard to understand what our campsite would look like exactly. For starters, it was hard to get anyone on the phone. Each time we called, we got a hardly decipherable recorded message, starting with “it must be the best place in the world, then explaining that the proprietor must be in the swimming hole. The message said that cabins need to be reserved, but campers can “just arrive”, and when we finally managed to talk to the man behind the message, he didn’t really elaborate further.
When we arrived, we were greeted by a bushy-bearded young man, who suggested we park “right here” – that is, in the middle of the yard, 10 meters from the entrance. I said that I specifically asked about privacy on the phone, and was told that wouldn’t be a problem, at which point he introduced me to the Waza, as the proprietor calls himself. The latter, to whom I had talked the day before, turned out to be a wizened old man, with a long beard and large bags under his eyes. He pointed to a more secluded area, and said that we could park there that night, but the next night the spot was promised to someone else. An initial survey of the camp revealed rustic but rather charming amenities, with a large kitchen shed for the campers at the entry area, and another kitchen next to the office hut within the forest, next to several log cabins. The Waza explained to us that the water in the camp’s taps was from the nearby creek, and that it was pure and absolutely safe to drink – “the quality of the water here is the reason I bought this property”. He recommended that we take a short walk up the main road, where we would find a very good organic café, and suggested we go with thongs rather than hiking boots, since the road is flooded at certain points.
The café was indeed very nice. In the garden there was a live performance by a singer with a guitar singing a kind of “country blues”. The humus we ordered for Daniel was surprisingly nice, as were the chicken wrap and the quiche. Tempted by my curiosity, I also ordered the “turmeric ginger elixir” which the friendly woman at the counter recommended (“I think it’s very good. I make it myself!”). The bright yellow potion I received was clearly an acquired taste, and not one to be acquired after a single cup – very tangy, somewhat bitter, and with a strong turmeric aroma. Lilach and the kids played some board game they found there, while I browsed the advertisement brochures and information leaflets, finding a brochure offering dives in creeks with platypi, and a leaflet on treating snake bites. When it was time to leave, we had to promise Tamar to return there, so that she could continue to browse through the books about dragons and magic which she found on one of the shelves.
We returned to the camp, and drove to the end of the road, from which we took a track along the gorge. I was walking in the rear, trying (not very successfully) to take pictures of the local birds, when I heard Lilach calling me to come see a snake. I ran and caught up with the rest, who showed me – way up on a high branch – what turned out to be a carpet python (Morelia spilotes). I questioned Lilach on how she spotted it so high up in the dense vegetation, and she said she had thought “this should be a good place for snakes”, lifted her gaze up, and just saw it silhouetted against the sky. We were left wondering if she somehow first noticed it subconsciously or not. The kids, who by that point in the trip were deep into the game of collecting points for wildlife spotting (to be redeemed for presents at somewhat arbitrary exchange rates), wondered if mom would get 3 points for the snake. Eventually it was decided that mom and dad do not collect points, but she would get a drinking coconut (meaning that I would need to pry one open for her). Seemed like a fair deal to all concerned.
The kids were showing signs of weariness, so Lilach said she had some biscuits with her, to be eaten near the waterfall. At that Tamar dashed forward, disregarding our calls to slow down, and quickly disappeared. We followed at a slower pace, until we got to a fork in the road. Not knowing which way she took, Daniel and I went left, and Lilach went right. After a few minutes Tamar answered my calls and loud whistles and came running back to us, and together we retraced and met Lilach, who reached a rock pool at the end of the right fork and walked back to the junction. Tamar explained that when she reached the fork she stopped to wait for us, but after a minute or two she forgot why she was standing there and moved on – to the right. When she reached the rock pool she returned, but didn’t notice the junction and continued in the other direction… Following a much needed review of safety procedures when hiking (short version: “never leave mom or dad’s field of view”), we all headed to the rock pool and the biscuits were dispensed. Daniel noticed that several tiny puddles between the rocks outside the water were crowded with small tadpoles, apparently trapped there when the water in the gorge receded. Using an empty water bottle we managed to transfer several dozen tadpoles to the main waterway in a heroic rescue operation.
Back at the campsite, we had light dinner and spent some time by the campfire before going to sleep. A Long-nosed Bandicoot seen by Lilach near the toilet was the last animal of the day.
Family Trips 