Is the road up to the tip of Cape York dusty? Yes. Yes, it is. You’ll be finding red dirt hidden in every nook and cranny of your vehicle and caravan – as well as your person – for at least the next decade, says editor Lyndon Keane. Photo: Cape York Weekly.
I’ve spent a lot of time barrelling around Cape York over the past few months. If my logbook is correct, I’ve covered 6,300 kilometres since mid-May, meaning I’ve knocked off about a dozen audiobooks and three entire podcasts, and subjected myself to more than 25 horrific car karaoke covers of whatever the day’s earworm happened to be.
The countless hours on the road have also left me in the position to be asked and overhear a tsunami of questions by the annual dry season influx of visitors from south of the Tropic of Capricorn. Some have been lobbed in my direction as part of a thorough cross-examination about what life in the northernmost part of the state is like, and some should have remained nothing more than internal musings forever bouncing between the ears of their interlocutor.
For the most part, the questions have been genuine inquiries deserving of a considered response, however, there have been several gripes-dressed-up-as-questions a growing cohort of tourists seem to view as some twisted rite of passage to fire at the closest local.
So, I thought I’d offer up a little Q&A of five common queries to help our southern cousins navigate their Cape York adventure.
Question 1: Are my vehicle and caravan going to get dirty?
Not if you don’t venture off the blacktop, no, but that strategy is going to leave you with a fair hike to stand next to the Pajinka sign for the end-of-journey happy snap. A hike of about 700km, if we’re being honest – the sort of distances only blokes like Ferris Gump happily trek.
The reality is your chosen mode of transport will never be the same after you’ve been up and back along the Peninsula Developmental Road. You’ll be finding bauxite-rich red dirt in every nook and cranny of your four-wheel drive and caravan for at least the next decade, and the same goes for parts of your person most sane people would prefer to keep dust out of.
Question 2: Do they really expect me to pay that much for fuel?
We don’t expect you to do anything you don’t want to while you’re exploring our backyard. It’s part of our charm. In saying that, though, I’m led to believe it’s a big ask to try and save on fuel costs by pushing your four-tonne Yank tank and 28-foot caravan to the Northern Peninsula Area, especially through some of the late season patches of bulldust.
Question 3: Why doesn’t the pub stock the craft beer I drink in Fitzroy?
It’s tough enough trying to run a watering hole in one of the remotest parts of the country without having to accommodate the 4,297 bougie new beer varieties released each week.
The person staring at you with contempt from behind the bar doesn’t care you can’t get your beloved Happy Hipster pilsner north of Cairns and, no, they aren’t going to speak to their supplier to see if they can get a carton in for you. Just drink Great Northern or XXXX like the rest of us.
Question 4: What do you mean I can’t help myself to the toilet paper?
Without putting too crass a point on it, pinching rolls of toilet paper on your journey to save yourself a buck really gives our councils and business owners the shits. It’s so much worse if you’re piloting a setup looking at a quarter of a million dollars in the rear-vision mirror.
While on the topic of all things number two, we implore you not to do the proverbial on the side of the road like a bear and just drive away. Nothing ruins an enjoyable day exploring Cape York like standing in a souvenir some bloke left uncovered with used “paperwork” mere feet from the edge of the PDR when you pull up to stretch your legs.
Question 5: Is it far from here?
You’ve looked at a map of where you’re heading, right? Eight times out of 10, then answer is always yes, especially by metropolitan units of measure. Just buckle up, turn your lights on, use common sense – it’s sold everywhere you can buy overpriced fuel – and take your time as you discover why we wouldn’t call anywhere else home.
