At 6.00 p.m. on a particularly crisp evening in Ravenshoe, there was nothing for it but to snuggle down beside a crackling fire in the glorious Tully Falls Hotel, sip on a couple of Coronas, and patiently await what would be the most tender and succulent roast beef we've had the pleasure to meet.Let me tell you: Ravenshoe rocks! Actually, so does the whole darn Atherton Tablelands. The landscape is so magically pastoral: rolling, emerald green hills dotted with fat, handsome cows. And the waterfalls! Arriving, as we did, via the stark, minimalist savannah of Croydon, the sudden immersion into lush rainforest becomes something of a sensory overload.
But back to the pub. I love staying in country pubs. I'm happy to put up with wandering through a maze of creaky, ghost-ridden corridors at 3 a.m. to visit the loo. Why anyone would want to pay twice as much to stay in the joyless sterility of a motel room is beyond me. That said, you need to be a tad discerning. My criteria are as follows (yep, here comes a list):
1: Clean sheets on a bed that doesn't sag (Tip: inspect room first - they really won't mind).
2: A decent blast of scalding hot water from the shower.
3. A room that opens out to the verandah (usually par for the course - 100 years ago, pubs were designed intelligently).
4. Authenticity and charm.
Point 4 is, of course, highly subjective. There's a fine line between charm and, say, the hot water tap coming off in your hand just as you're about to rinse off the shampoo.
The Tully Falls Hotel, however, has undeniable charm - in bucket loads - and fabulous food. (Not only that, it's Queensland's Highest pub, apparently.)In fact, the only reason we didn't breakfast in its film-set-worthy, silky-oak lined dining room, is that we wanted to hot-foot it down to the Popular Cafe, with its: too-cute-for-words, original Art Deco interior, charming owners, scrumptious home-cooked brekkie and great coffee (how could it not be, coming from that stunning vintage espresso machine).Chrome-domed, eagle-adorned coffee machinery aside, the magnificent polished counter also boast its original soda siphons.Phil dreams up a new Tardis design whilst awaiting his bacon and eggs.Bye bye Ravenshoe. Thanks for a wonderful stay - we'll definitely be back!Stay tuned tomorrow for more Atherton Tablelands goodness.

Howdy all! We're not long home after a work-related North Queensland road-trip-come-holiday: Eumundi to Croydon to Cairns and back. 4,500 km in one week.Yep, those figures have been verified. I realise it might seem like a nightmare to some of you, but Phil and I tend to get off on this sort of malarkey. And besides, it seemed much longer than a week. Time goes pleasantly pear-shaped once you side-step the Groundhog Day humdrum of 9 to 5. Every day brings its simple pleasures - and the occasional hairy moment. I mean, take a look at the size of those car-eating cows.



The inland road to Croydon, an old gold mining town way up in the Gulf (of Carpentaria), is not the scenic route. It's also not for those who don't understand:
1. The genteel etiquette of sharing a single-lane highway with road trains: Get off the f@$*ing road and out of their f@$^ing way before they flatten you and your car into a wafer-thin section of sheet metal.
2. The couple of hours post dawn, and the couple of hours around dusk, are a kangaroo's favourite time for playing chicken with oncoming traffic. And the last 300 km to Croydon may have the highest national average of roo delinquency. They're bloody everywhere.
3. This is not the gourmet trail. Truckstops are here to serve truckies, coalminers and roadworkers. Do not, repeat, do not attempt to order any form of espresso. Just politely ask for "a coffee, thanks", with or without milk. Head directly to your laminex table. Then quietly drink your mug of instant caffeine, with perhaps a side dish of toasted sandwiches (safe option) - or even a little crumbed or deep-fried item from the hotbox if you're feeling lucky. Exit promptly. You'll have at least another 200 km to the next stop - plenty of time to savour that lingering, grease-plus-dishwater aftertaste.


Despite all the piss-taking I love - in fact, need - to get out there from time to time. I love having life paired back to the bare essentials. I love the sense of space, the feeling of freedom, the far off horizons and the endless skies - which remained perfectly blue for the whole week. Actually, forget what I said about this not being the scenic route. Think National Gallery. Think Australian Impressionism. Think stark light, wispy blue gums and a rock-strewn landscape rising out of nowhere. About two hours from Croydon, you're smack bang in the middle of the canvas.


Just needs an Arthur Streeton signature in the bottom right hand corner. And an OTT gilt frame.
Check out map below for the road thus travelled. And stay tuned tomorrow for Croydon to Ravenshoe, featuring: Australia's highest pub, widest waterfall, one pretty-darned-cute Art Deco cafe, and some deeelicious Davidson's Plum biodynamic yoghurt.

View Larger Map