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	by Alex Eberspaecher  photography by Judy Eberspaecher

	Boogul yahbelehla  (Have a good walk)
	“What do you wear around here?” I asked him somewhat deflated. “Mostly nothing,” he chuckles, “or maybe a New York Yankee baseball hat, but in spring we wear an ice cream container, because the magpies and the butcherbirds dive-bomb us during their mating season.” Welcome to Australia, my wife Judy said, as I put my newly acquired NY baseball hat on when we left the store. I made sure nobody saw my brand new outback hat. With 7.6 million square kilometres, compared to Canada’s 9.9, Australia is probably too large to be explored in one lifetime. We had been here for six weeks and actually saw very little of it, carefully avoiding the larger tourist destinations and cities such as Sydney, Melbourne and Canberra. Our journey took us from the Gold Coast up to the Sunshine Coast, with Brisbane somewhere in between. Although the unspoiled beaches and reefs of Eastern Australia are truly a haven for snorkelers and surfers, not to mention sun worshippers, it was the tropical rainforest that demanded so much of our attention. Australia is a mysterious continent, full of contradictions—and they drive on the opposite side of the road. While a few kilometres along the coastline are relatively flat, the country is anything but level. An hour’s drive from the sandy beaches of Queensland is a steep mountain chain that divides the coast from the outback. Here, marks the beginning of dirt roads, and bridges have been replaced by river crossings. Instead of bridge railings, there are now yardsticks indicating the depth of the water and instead of traffic rules, common sense and courtesy get you much farther. It was also here that we suddenly realized why the vast majority of Australians are equipped with 4-wheel drive vehicles.		“Yeah mate, it fits,” he said, after I paid him 60 dollars for the genuine Australian Crocodile Dundee style hat. Then he walked around me to make sure it fit from all sides and proclaimed, “Now ya look like a real tourist.”

Our road, if you can call it so, ended somewhere south of Jimboomba, not far from Wanglepong. After we navigated the boulders of Canunga Creek we started to climb steadily until we reached the top at Cainbable, inside Lamington National Park and the Green Mountain Ridge. It was here in the Gold Coast Hinterland, amidst the tropical rainforest that we met Geoff Carter who owns and operates a few cabins. His ancestors, he explained while we were marveling at the never-ending rainforest, settled here. He still hikes through the country with his children, but he stays away from an aboriginal stone circle located somewhere among the giant eucalyptus trees, which towered over the mist that had rolled in below us. Even cattle and horses would shy away from the area. When his grandfather tried several times to send his well-trained sheepdogs in, they winced, put their tails between their legs, ran home, hid under the house, where they’d remain until a few days after.

	“Everybody stays away,” he said, “something terrible must have happened there.” I wasn’t about to pursue it further, even after our son Stefan assured me that such mysteries are only a figment of the imagination.  In the darkness of the Australian rainforest, I wasn’t about to find out. Heading west one day, toward the middle of Australia, we received a phone call from Terry and Karyn at Amaroo. They had found a staging area of the elusive Bowerbird on their property along Farm Creek. “It hasn’t been raining lately,” Terry said, “so the creek crossings should be manageable.” Along the Condomine River it was easy going, there was even a bridge, but after we passed the old sheep station of Emu Vale turned off at Tannymorrel, it became somewhat tricky. It was at times difficult to tell if we were in Farm Creek or alongside it, but after five river crossings and four cattle grids, we turned into Amaroo. As it had not been raining much in Queensland for a while and Australia is now in its tenth year of drought, it was not easy to see if we were crossing a creek or just a field of boulders, but we made it. A hundred years ago the area around Amaroo was in aboriginal hands, and although today, unfortunately, no Aborigines are found nearby, the area holds a most important place in the history of Australia. It was here, by a secret clay-lined hole in the banks of Farm Creek, probably not far from where we were standing, the ancient Aborigines came to heal their wounds. It was here also, among the incredibly diverse sub-tropical rainforest, that we found the staging area of the mysterious Bowerbird, filled with bright blue and white treasures that the male gathered to attract a mate. It is a two to three hour drive from the tropical forest to the coast, where sharks replace kangaroos and stingrays take the place of koalas. Here, the Dugong travels along the warm coastal waters between Shark Bay and Morton Bay in eastern Australia. A close relative to the Manatee, the Dugong is relatively scarce now and very difficult to find. We had unsuccessfully searched for them in Moreton Bay with Jarrod and Dea, two dedicated outdoor types, but did we manage to find some giant sea turtles and dolphins among the most beautiful fishes and corals only Australia has to offer. Up in Tinnanbar, not far from Fraser Island, Ean pushed his tinney, a small aluminum boat, into Tin Can Bay so he and Alana could check their Mud Crab traps. “Ya have to be careful,” he said, “we will be heading up a creek into a dense mangrove swamp.” “Snakes?” I enquired, but he shook his head and explained that there had been rumours of a seven-metre crocodile. We didn’t see the croc, but on our way back to his place we found a number of dugongs swimming among some monstrous stingrays. That evening, after eating a hearty portion of corned beef (we hadn’t caught any crabs) I walked out into the low tidal flats just in time to see the sun disappear. In Australia, there is no such thing as dawn or dusk; it happens within minutes. The hard mud bottom was alive now with literally millions of tiny blue Soldier Crabs, marching aimlessly in unison from place to place, picking up soldiers on their way. Then the sun disappeared completely. Deep in thought, looking for the Southern Cross in a sky that was unpolluted by lights, I felt his hand at the same time as I saw him. Ean had brought me a gin and tonic. ”I thought we could toast to our friendship, mate,” he said. We toasted, silently. Perhaps he was thinking about the croc or the crabs that got away, I didn’t ask; there was no need. Perhaps he too was overwhelmed by a million stars, or perhaps just as I was - by the moment in time.
	TRAVEL GUIDE Remember, seasons are reversed. We flew Air New Zealand. They are super friendly and offer full service. We flew to Brisbane with stopovers in Vancouver and Auckland. It breaks up the 21-hour flying time. The Australian dollar is almost at par, but generally prices are higher than in Canada. They drive on the left side of the road with right-hand drive. Cainbable Mountain Lodge has a good website with up to date weather and bird/animal sightings www.cainbable.com The weather is much cooler in the mountains than along the coast. Check out www.queenslandholidays.com and www.australia.com