I have a big adventure looming with a 5-week road trip around Scotland. With less than 2 months till departure, I am madly micro-planning. My itinerary is pretty well fleshed out and I’m just filling in the fine details. I have the accommodation booked, the hire car sorted, the ferry crossings reserved and a few day trips locked in.
I will be recording Episode5 of “Planning my Soctish Holiday ” video soon.
You can have a look at some of my previous posts in the links below
This quick post is to introduce you to my new travelling companion – Ian – Ian of Clan Mangerton. He’s the strong silent type! In the past I have travelled with a rabbit, chickens and a new set of chickens after I lost the first ones! Ian will be featuring in some of my facebook posts and will make some appearances in the blog posts I write while I am away.
Travelling mascots are always a bit of fun! He’s smaller than a gnome and can stand on his own two feet!
“It’s too hot up here for White Pointers. They don’t like the hot water” Natalie said with the confidence of a local. She’s lived in North Queensland all her life so she should know. Guy laughed quietly as he continued to trim the greenery for a bouquet he was building.
“The winters here are stunning” he said. “The water is clear, the humidity is gone and there is less chance of stingers”
I’m here in mid-January and the temperature has hovered in the high 20’s dropping (!) to 23 overnight. The humidity remains a constant 69%. Summer was doing it’s tropical best! Water temperature averages out at 28C
Natalie says that anything under 20C and she has a jumper on! Natalie and Guy run the Floral Collection on Front Street and are just two of the friendly people willing to share their story with me as I went from shop to shop in Hamilton Island.
There are not many shops on Hamilton Island. The retail section runs along the Marina. There are a few restaurants/bars, the pub, a post office, an IGA supermarket, a pharmacy, the Bakery, a pizzeria, fish and chip shop, and four clothing boutiques, The dive shop, at least two art galleries, the souvenir shop, a real estate agent, marina admin, cruise office and water sport hire round it off. There is also a private College which seems a bit of an oddity. The resort hotel complex has a spa and another boutique/souvenir store as well. The prices are not too bad, considering. Considering it’s a captive audience and the lack of competition.
There are a few exclusive accomodation options that have there own restaurant but a school teacher has no business messing with those places!
Front Street is crowded with golf buggies, the only form of transport for hire. These electric buggies are limited to the Island’s maximum speed of 20kph. Their pace matches the pace of the people on the island. This is a holiday island not the place for an adventure! The surrounding landscapes are stunning and the tropical heat and humidity lull you into a lazy haze very quickly.
Over the last few days I have settled into the routine of an early morning coffee watching the busy-ness of the marina, while guarding my food from the clever birds who will swipe your banana bread as soon as look at you.
I watch as the early ferry drops off construction and resort workers coming in from the mainland. Then as the tourists begin to board for shore excursions to Airlie Beach or the Reef. I watch the yachties take their provisions for the week in little trolleys along the narrow docks. I watch the planes take off and land on the runway that seems too short. It’s quiet but not silent. The low hum of boats motoring out of the harbour and the flutter of helicopters an almost constant backdrop of sound broken occasionally by the buzzing of a reversing buggy.
Jarryd from the Marina Tavern told me most “hospo” workers live on the island in subsidised accommodation which on the whole is very comfortable depending on how much you want to spend. Jarryd has been on the Island for a few years and hales from the Albury-Wodonga area at the NSW-Victorian border. The Chef has been there for 5 years and loves Island living. The Island workers’ families can attend the State run primary school which has less than 60 students and 4 teachers. Secondary School students need to head off to the mainland to Proserpine High School.
I stopped to ask one of the HI-VIS clad workers about the best place to get a shot of a plane landing on that short runway. He’s been coming to the Island by ferry every work day since 1986. He’s seen a lot of changes since then. Originally a privately owned farm, Hamilton Island was developed by Keith Hamilton as a resort in 1975. It is now 100% owned by 21st Century Resort Holdings. In 2017,it was significantly damaged by Cyclone Debbie although there is little evidence of that now.
Don’t come for the extreme sports.
Don’t come to Hamilton Island if you are looking for an adventure packed itinerary. Come here if you are looking for a family friendly, high end resort holiday. Swimming (in the pool because of the risk of stingers in the sea), sailing, fishing, eating, drinking and resting. There are some opportunities for more active pursuits such as kart racing, jet ski hire and 4WD buggies. The island is small (5 x 3.5 km) but there are a few short walks that take you to some spectacular view points. I’d recommend the walk up to Passage Peak. There are lots of steps and according the information board it’s the most challenging walk on offer.The views make it worth it. At the very top you stand on a rocky granite outcrop which towers above the surrounding landscape. The breeze cools your sweaty body and as you turn slowly on your heel you can take in 360o of magic turquoise water studded with green islands.
Who comes to Hamilton Island?
The marina here is the largest in all of the Whitsunday group of islands so it’s a starting point for sailors and yachties. Boats come and go all day. Families with younger children and a few teenagers are the predominant group. Honeymooners and wedding parties also make up a significant chunk of the population. There are some international visitors but from my rough observations they are in the minority. Given it’s the long summer break from school here in Australia, that’s not surprising. The scales may be in the other direction in the Northern Hemisphere’s summer. It would be an great destination for a few days away for the “girl’s weekend” or a ‘significant” birthday. There are several flights in and out every day and the ferry crosses from Shute Harbour on the mainland several times a day. It’s clean, tidy and there is an overwhelming feeling of affluence. I am here on grandma duty so I can’t comment on the nightlife, but sunset cocktails at One Tree Hill is a family friendly experience not to be missed.
…And about those jellyfish…
Australia has its fair share of biting things that have the potential to kill you. It’s all about risk management. The likelihood is low but the consequence is extreme. Irukandji are small, transparent jellyfish that cause extremely painful and in some cases life threatening stings. They are cousins to the much larger, more deadly Box Jellyfish. Jellyfish are apparently more of a problem when there is a northerly wind blowing and after heavy rains when they are washed down into the ocean from the breeding grounds in the estuaries. The Island’s management recommend you wear a stinger suit which is essentially a very thin wetsuit if you want to swim in the ocean.
Taking the plunge…
As I sat on the back step of the catamaran, I surveyed the inviting blue water. There were five other boats moored in the same area off Whitehaven Beach. No-one else was swimming. What seemed like a good idea at the time, became to me, more and more risky the longer I sat there. The jellyfish were not going to be a problem as I was suited up, it was the idea of sharks that got me worried. Would a lone swimmer splashing about become a shark’s easy lunch? Be invincible not invisible I shouted in my own head. I dove into the water and adjusted my mask. I swam a few metres and floated awhile. The nearby fringe reef suddenly seemed much too far away. I had overcome my fear – I had done enough – I was wet! I could get out now!. I scrambled back on board, heart beating a little faster.
I should have spoken to Natalie before I went swimming! Let’s hope someone told the sharks to carry a thermometer!
You can find out more about the details of getting to Hamilton Island and where to stay on their excellent website.
I prepared this post on my IPad. I’m never happy with the image options on the app version of WordPress and will fix them up when I get back home!
I got an email from Korean Airlines to tell me my flight the next day was going to be delayed by two hours. It was nice that they let me know. It was late on Boxing Day – a public holiday in Australia. Even though I knew the limo company would be closed, I sent them an email “just in case” to try and change the time of my airport transfer pick up. Thankfully, they got back to me and we agreed on a new time. Then I got another email from KAL to say the flight was going to be another two hours late. I didn’t want to muck the limo people around with another change so I just resigned myself to the fact that I would be at the airport SUPER early! My pick up would be eight hours before the flight. The transfer company has a policy of getting you to the airport 3 hours ahead of time because of the vagaries of Sydney traffic. It normally takes an hour to get to the airport and then check in, immigration clearance and the security check might use up another hour. I was looking at 6 hours to waste airside before boarding. Sigh!
I stepped out of the minibus and sniffed the air. I love that first whiff of AvGas when you are close to the airport. Apart from the fact you have suitcases in tow, and a passport in your hand, it’s proof you are going somewhere. The heady kerosene-like odour that tells you the tarmac and turbulence are not too far away.
The second clue you are travelling is the queue. As a seasoned traveller (LOL) I sometimes get impatient in these queues and run an internal commentary. Come on people!! You know you need photo ID to get your boarding pass. Get it out of your wallet before you get to the counter.You’ve just been standing in a line for the last 30 minutes watching everyone else hand over their ID. We could be saving about 50 seconds per transaction here if people were ready. What? Repacking your bags NOW? FFS you had all morning to weigh them.
Breathe Robyn! Breathe! You are going on holidays! Just grab a coffee, sit back and watch the people go by.
The first person to catch my attention is a ¾ age man (you know – older than middle age but not yet old) in his hipster aqua shorts with pineapple print. Then a Russian (judging by the language – Baltic at least) with the close to pornographic photo of two women being ….ah…. friendly… on the front of his t-shirt. I wonder how he got through immigration with that on? The brash, very well dressed Yanks float past in their matching boat shoes, white fedoras and navy jackets. No doubt on their way to the first class lounge. The mums with toddlers asleep on their shoulders trying to kick their bags along. They’ve invented trolleys love… I think to myself.
All this, backgrounded by Mariah Carey singing Christmas carols.
I move on, walk around for a while and then get another coffee. I am waiting for my phone to recharge after plugging in to one of the new charging stations that are everywhere in the airport now. No need to sit on the floor and unplug the drinks machine these days. I quickly switch back into people-watching mode. A young woman in front of me is talking on her phone, wearing earphones, her free hands are waving wildly in their air. Whoever is on the other end is clearly keeping her amused and she laughs and giggles. So sweet to watch. The young fellow to the right of me is using his phone as a mirror and is picking his zits…Ewwwwwww.
My phone has 2% to full charge and I still have three more hours to wait.
I listen to the announcements and wonder what happens to those who are called out as the last people to board? They must have checked in? Did they change their mind and decide not to go? Was there some sort of family tragedy which kept them from flying out? Where they in the car accident that had caused the traffic jam 5 km out of the airport?
More people watching!
There are two African-American guys standing in the line at McDonalds. One has a big guitar like keyboard around his neck and the other has big gold chains, short spiky dreadlocks and gold reflective sunglasses on. They look like they should be famous. Perhaps they are just wankers. A Muslim man walks past with 4 daughters – so many weddings to pay for!
At noon I decide it’s close enough to beer o’clock and buy a glass of wine which turns into two and hallelujah – it’s time to board.
All in all, the waste of time was productive. I wrote three blog posts. Researched part of a family history I wanted to write and made up character arcs for some of the interesting people who have walked by. Who knows, perhaps I even featured in another bored traveller’s diary.