Travelling Hopefully - Rainforest Edition

At Strahan a stern choice awaited us. We could either go for a walk through the rainforest or take a cruise up the Gordon River which would allow you to see the rainforest while sitting in a seat. For reasons that are unclear to me even now I and the Pilates instructor chose the first option in the company of a couple from England while the remaining CoRS chose Option B.

Our tour leader bundled the four of us into the minibus and drove us deep into the woods. Despite this horror movie themed start the day got better as we set out on our walk. The sky was grey, the air was cool, rain threatened but didn’t eventuate and we ambled along chatting and photographing the scenery.

It wasn’t virgin rainforest, we were walking along an old mining track and in the recent (geologically speaking) past miners had stripped the countryside bare. Since they stopped the countryside has grown back with a resilience bordering on bloody mindedness presenting us with apparently pristine wilderness. We took photos of fungi (me), leaves (the Pilates instructor) and less specific scenery (everybody). Our destination, and we did have one, was Montezuma’s Falls a waterfall which promised to be in good shape after recent rains.

As we strolled through the lush bush we spared a thought for our fellow travellers forced to sit in comfortable seats, choking down complimentary salmon and champagne while the boat did all the work for them. Poor bastards.

Our walk took us past an old mine shaft, a dark opening in the hillside. I took a photo and stared at the indistinct figure that appeared to look back at me out of the darkness. I apologised to the tourist I had inadvertently photographed and hurried on before she could press charges.

Montezuma’s Falls came into view with an impressive amount of water taking the most direct route down without any of that “carving of a valley” nonsense. There was also a suspension bridge that seemed to exist only to creep out those who crossed it. It didn’t actually go anywhere.

On our way back to Strahan we stopped at Zeehan for lunch. A Sunday visit to Zeehan is like walking into a scene from a Scooby Doo cartoon. You expect the ghost of an ancient miner to pursue you through the abandoned but picturesque streets. Sadly we had to leave before we could reveal that the “ghost” was actually the much loved family solicitor trying to swindle the heiress out of her fortune.

Back at Strahan we collected the rest of the CoRS and were quietly smug to learn they hadn’t had a great day. Then we went to see The Ship that Never Was a play I saw last time I was in Strahan and is immense amounts of fun if you like pantomime and audience participation.