Forget about showering in privacy–
these little green dudes like to watch...Brush up on history in BamagaPhil of the Mars crew
throws a line in at the tipThe mighty Cub and Ranger combo
taking on the Cape with easeCape
Ra c e
toThe
Part 2
stalked ever closer to our campsite.
"Hey guys?", I squeaked out, but my fellow
campers responded with only guttural snores.
Ipulledmysleepingbaguptomychin,and
resignedmyselftodeathbytrampling.Applying
the theory that if I didn't move they wouldn't
notice me (hey, it worked with dinosaurs in
Jurassic Park), I lay statue-like, until they tired
from sniffing around my tent and moved on to
the wheelie bins. Their neighing and stampingthrough binfuls of XXXX Gold tinnies continued
throughout the night.GOURMET DELIGHTS IN THE
BACK OF BEYOND
To be fair, my standards for what would pass as
a top meal were lowering as the days wore on
so it wasn't going to take much to blow my mind.
However, believe me when I say the fanfare over
the pizzas at Cape York Camping Punsand Bay
was well deserved. After a full day of shooting
campers on the beach, campers crossing rivers,
campers driving the tip, campers parked on the
beach at the tip – you get the idea – the crew
was famished and in need of some substantial
fare. Punsand Bay offers accommodation,
pizza, and a well-stocked bar, along with a
swimming pool for a refreshing dip. We were
similarly rewarded when we reached Loyalty
Beach Campground. This gem of a spot boasts a
relaxing beer garden overlooking the water, and
after a busy day's shooting, it was the place to
nurse a cold beer and watch the sunset. You'd be
a fool not to sample the dishes the kitchen here
dishes up. Fancy fish and chips? No problem.
Loyalty Beach dishes up serves so generous
you''ll be sneaking it back to your tent later for a
midnight feast. And after days of servo pies and" Believe me
when I say the
fanfare over the
pizzas at Cape
York Camping
Punsand Bay was
well deserved"
Campground at the tail end of our trip, where
we were fortunate enough to be able to set up
camp and stay put for a few days. I snagged
the tent for myself, forcing the others to remain
in their swags under the stars. I'd seen signs
around that warned of wild horses, but didn't
pay them much notice. That is, until I heard
galloping coming towards my tent in the middle
of the night. I froze, the sound was so fearsome
that I suspected it was the Four Horsemen of
the Apocalypse themselves coming for me as
punishment for stealing the last yoghurt from
the fridge in the back of the Wrangler. I dared
take a peek out of my tent, and saw two of them.
Equine tyrants, their nostrils flaring as they