It was a sad leaving the dam, but it was time to push on. Julia Creek was a bit of a diversion, but I promised that I would try and visit the famous names in Queensland, and this is one of them. The Jeep seemed to be regaining it’s confidence -just like old times, as we tootled along towards Cloncurry.
It was only 50klm down the road, so pulled in at around 8:30am. Cloncurry is what I guess you would expect a Queensland country town to look like – wide main street, a railway crossing and a Visitor Information Centre. Every town has it’s own glossy brochure. You can see Queensland Tourism has gone hard on promotion. Only problem is, that some of these towns are scratching to cobble together enough highlights. Poor Cloncurry had to cast it’s net far and wide to fill the pages. The Information Centre was about the most touristy thing within 50klms of town. Well presented and a large collection of farm machinery in the grounds, a nice place to pull over for a break. A local historic Chinese cemetery seemed a beacon, but again, instead or ornate graves, a sign outside a plot of bare ground, telling me that’s where it WAS. Hmmmm. With a stiff nor-easterly getting up early, the giant windmill was at least getting peoples attention
The run to Julia Creek was more ambitious, two hours past Cloncurry. The red ochre landscape had disappeared, replaced with wide straw coloured plains. I was in Queensland cattle country. Where I’d spend the night was a moot point, but to my relief, Julia Creek is RV friendly and had provided a large free camp area on the edge of town. It was the camp host that alerted me to the recent rat plague, with some stern advice about leaving the bonnet up and throwing some kind of light under the engine bay. Apparently wire chewing in a warm engine bay is a rodent’s ‘goto’ pastime.
Julia Creek is a far bigger town than the name would evoke. It’s touted as the ‘Gateway to the Gulf’, especially for those coming from the coast. Normanton is only five hours north, but I’m leaving the gulf country for another time.
You know pickings are slim when all I can give you is streetscapes, but with flat featureless plains to every horizon I have to scrounge where I can. The railway line has followed me from Mount Isa and will continue eastward to Townsville. The ore trains are long and rumble through several times a day. A couple of sidings run away into the bush, the rusted rails a reminder of earlier times. There was a great little museum in the main street. I would have loved to taken some pics, but absolutely everything was behind glass, and that’s a no-go for photography.
So, now you’ve seen Julia Creek. Out of here by 9:30. I’ve got a big run to Winton and hopefully something a little more pleasing to the eye. It’s dinosaur country – so who knows?
