Monday, July 13, 2009

Whoopsie! Up an’ Dover!

Well the time came for us to pack it up in Brisbane and catch a train to the Glass House Mountains.   Interesting fact: the Glass House Mountains were named in 1770 by Captain James Cook (the man who discovered Australia for the English - though at the time, only a Lieutenant) We were headed for the Crook Neck Retreat.    Bret and Megan Standring , our hosts…more specifically Bret,  was picking us up and we would be spending some very quiet, relaxing down time in the proximity of the Glass House Mountains. 

The ride there was pretty uneventful.  We sat, chatted about how much we loved Brisbane and how excited we were to check out our relaxing, private cabin waiting for us amidst a sprawling macadamia nut orchard. 

As the train pulled near the station, all you could see were these unique mountain-like land structures in the distance.  The Glass House Mountains aren’t like anything either of us has ever seen before.  They are in fact volcanic plugs that were buried under sandstone (I think it was sandstone….I’ll double check) for centuries.  The sandstone was eventually worn away by time and erosion…and what is left are these uniquely structured and shaped volcanic mountains.

 As written by a man called Wayne Ellis here is the legend of the area:

 













It is said that Tibrogargan, the father, and Beerwah, the mother, had many children.  Coonowrin, the eldest, Beerburrum, the Tunbubudla twins, the Coochin twins, Ngungun, Tibberoowuccum, Miketeebumulgrai, and Saddleback.  There was Round, who was fat and small, and Wild Horse, who was always paddling in the sea. 

One day, Tibrogargan was gazing out to sea and noticed a great rising of the waters.  Hurrying off to gather his younger children, in order to flee to the safety of the mountains in the west, he called out to Coonowrin to help his mother, who by the way, was again with child. 

 

Looking back to see how Coonowrin was assisting Beerwah, Tibrogargan was greatly angered to see him running off alone.  He pursued Coonowrin and, raising his club, struck the latter such a mighty blow that it dislodged Coonowrin’s neck, and he has never been able to straighten it since. 


 













When the floods had subsided and the family returned to the plains, the other children teased Coonowrin about his crooked neck.  Feeling ashamed, Coonowrin went over to Tibrogargan and asked for his forgiveness, but filled with shame at his son’s cowardice, Tibrogargan could do nothing but weep copious tears, which, trickling along the ground, forming a stream that flowed into the sea.  Then Coonowrin went to his brothers and sisters, but they also wept at the shame of their brother’s cowardice.  The lamentations of Coonowrin’s parents and of his brothers and sisters at his disgrace explain the presence of the numerous small streams in the area. 

 

Tibrogargan then called to Coonowrin, asking him why he deserted his mother. Coonowrin replied that as Beerwah was the biggest of them all, she should be able to take care of herself.  He did not know that she was again pregnant, which was the reason for her great size.  Then Tibrogargan turned his back on his son and vowed that he would never look at him again. 

 

Even today, Tibrogargan gazes far out to sea, and never looks around at Coonowrin, who hangs his head and cries.  His tears running off to the sea.  His mother, Beerwah, is still heavy with child, as it takes a long, long time to give birth to a mountain. 

 

Before we go any further, let me justify the title of this entry:  

 

We pulled into the Glass House Mountains station and stood by the doors and waited for the train to stop before letting go of the railings and grabbing our packs and cases.  We stood by the door.  And waited for the doors to open.  And we stood.  And waited.  And then heard the brakes release and slowly, the train lurched into motion.  We quickly looked at each other and with panicked expressions asked the locals sitting on the train, watching this unfold how we get off.  Then a few people said “pull the handle on the door” “press the button” “hit the intercom”…we did all three, but nothing.  ‘Oh it’s too late now” said a man nearby, “You’ll have to get off at Beerwah and try to phone your ride.”    That’d be fine, but we were still freaked that we’d missed our stop in the most passive and unwittingly hilarious display of tourism ever.  Either way, we rode a few kilometers down the track, got off at Beerwah and quickly spoke to the conductor.  He said “there’s a train coming just now, you’ll have to go up an’ dover and I’ll radio that conductor and tell him you’re coming. “ Phew! This we could do! Except that when we got into the lift (the only other way up and over the tracks, we were greeted by a lovely elderly couple from Ohio, on their way to the Australia Zoo.  They stood between us and the lift control panel and pushed the lift button UP.  The doors shut.  And we waited.  And waited.  And nothing. The whole while we were graciously trying to maintain the conversation the couple was trying to have with us, not realizing that we were really very distracted and hoping that the train would wait for us while we went “up an’ dover.”  As I’m politely trying to nod and follow this man’s long-winded description of their plan for the day, the whole the while I’m staring at the control panel.  I realize that the button isn’t illuminated!   HE NEVER PRESSED THE BUTTON!  So as polite as I can, interrupt him to push the button myself- at this point forgetting completely that he’s talking to us.  All I can think is “Oh God, the train’s not gonna wait this long!!” and as if psychically connected, the conductor blows his whistle just as the doors open while we’re still up and away he goes, right back to where Bret was probably waiting for us.   So the couple from Ohio amble on to the lift down and we race like lunatics down the stairs, half falling, half being dragged by the packs and cases.  And we get to the level just in time to watch our train lurch forward and leave us in the Beerwah dust. 

 

So there we stood with our bags, just sorta staring at each other, half laughing, half not.  We sighed, grabbed our gear and headed for the slowest lift known to man and go back up an’ dover to the original side, to head to a little shop, grab a drink and try to figure out what do next.  Luckily, it was pretty easy.  We called ahead to Megan, she alerted Bret and next thing you know, Bret came to get us and it was all no worries from there. 

We were we excited to meet Bret and get to the cabin.  Bret is a charming and friendly guy that welcomed us to his resort and made us feel right at home.   As we drove, he talked to us a bit about the area we were staying in, about the cabins, the orchard, the mountains.  We drove down the secluded drive, that goes directly through the orchard and wound up at our cabin – the Mountain View cabin – a sleek, spacious, modern and minimalist cabin that had all the creature comfort of home, but the most spectacular view I’ve ever seen to date: the “Crookneck” mountain or as the natives call it, Coonowrin. 
















 

































We had decided pretty quickly that we’d drop our gear, freshen up quickly and head out with Bret to see a bit of the area.   We were lucky enough to have Bret as our tour guide – he was gracious enough to drive us anywhere we wanted to go and offered all sorts of suggestions, information and ideas about the Hinterlands (the inland, mountainous portion of the Sunshine Coast) 

 

We first went up to the see the Glass House Mountains from an overlook area near the Mary Cairn Cross scenic reserve – which was a large sub-tropical rainforest reserve.   We got to see the mountains from a great distance and it is from there that we could see the three characters in the legend of the mountains: Beerwah, Tibrogargan and Coonowrin.  You can see old Crookneck, the pregnant mother and the father with his back to his son. 

 

We then walked through the rainforest, and got to seem some amazing, HUGE and quite tall trees that really took my breath away at certain points.  There were pademelons (which are tiny kangaroos) and tons of birds with strange, beautiful and loud songs.  We also used this time to get to know our host, Bret and share some stories and ask each other about our respective cultures.  It was really quite lovely to get to know him. 

 

Bret talked to us about the Magpie.  Maggies are a large black bird with white markings.  They are coming into their breeding season right now and as Bret described will dive at your head in an attempt to attack you to keep you away from their nesting areas.  What’s even more amazing was that apparently, once the Maggie knows you frequent an area, it will remember you and predictably attack you in the same way, at the same area every single time you pass.  As you can imagine, both Brian and I were hoping to get attacked.  It didn’t happen yet, but I’m still hoping one does!

 



























We stopped in Maleny at an award-winning Australian dairy farm and cheese factory.  We had sampled several cheeses.  Brian bought me my favorite a ‘Tuscan Cheddar” which was softer than most cheddars I’ve had, garlicky and a bit spicy, but quite possibly the most delicious cheese I’ve had here in my travels.  Brian bought himself a “Chili Con” cheddar which hot, spicy and softer than other cheddars.  We also tried some Gruyere and Camembert.   We have nothing like this in the States that I’ve ever seen and it was the freshest and most delicious cheese I’ve tried.  Brian was quite happy. 

 

On the way back, we stopped in Monteville – which was similar to an upstate New York artist colony town such as Sugarloaf (except much nicer).    We stopped in a chocolate shop and bought some chocolate fudge, orange fudge and some mango creame chocolates and chili chocolate – my favorite was the chili chocolate.  The chocolate was dark and creamy but at the very end, had a nice little spice that caught you right in the throat and faded as you finished the flavor.  

 

We went back to the cabin, now dark.  The temperature had dropped to about 40 degrees F.  The fridge was already stocked with an assortment of Aussie fare.  Fresh farm eggs, cheese made in Maleny, soft fresh breads, fruits, Thai rice,  chicken for the barbi.   All in all, we had a feast to prepare for the next two nights and mornings!

 On the menu that night: chickie babs (you figure it out), Thai rice (my god that stuff's good), salad, fresh macadamia nuts, some fudge we bought at Monteville and some yummo white wine.  

Interesting facts:

Beerwah means climbing up the sky.

Tibrogargan means biting flying squirrel.

 


Before I leave to hit the showers: the night sky is UNREAL! First of all, you can see the Milky Way! I mean, my God it stretched clear across the sky and was a very special sight to see.  I forgot how completely awe-inspiring the night sky is before it's faded out by the light pollution of a million Wal-Marts and the like.  It will take your breath away! I only forgot to pack two things and one of them was my tripod! So I made a make-shift one out of a lawn chair and some macadamia nuts and managed to capture some stars.  















I also got the crappiest of crappy pictures of the Southern Cross - located in the bottom, just left of center of the pic, tilted a bit from right to left.  Either way, that's Australia's constellation and is found on their flag and means to serve as a reminder of their geography .  


Anyway, after this incredible introduction to the Glass House Mountains and the Hinterlands region, there's little else to say except that the two of us are in love with Australia.  


Cheers, 

m

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