New home

I’ve just read about a woman that has sold up her business for life on the road in a fifth wheeler. We have just done the opposite. Well, sort of. We’ve bought a house so we are no longer on the road, but we still have the motorhome. Delvy has her own parking bay, undercover beside the shed, which is adjacent to our house that overlooks the valley below.

Our house & shed

So here we stay for awhile, earning some money in between looking after the garden, tinkering in the shed, and catching glimpses of the threatened Proserpine Rock Wallaby from the balcony. They are hard to spot in amongst the thick dry vine forest, but at dawn this morning we spied the first one from our bedroom window, grazing on the grass outside the shed. Easily startled, it wasn’t long before he knew he was being looked at and ran away into the bush.

Sunrise from Hill Fort

We have seen a few Lace Monitors climbing up the remaining tall trees of this once logged hillside. Last week two together stopped to bask in the afternoon sun for a while, halfway up the tall trunk, before heading back down to earth.

Lace Monitor
 

At nearly 300 metres above sea level it’s a steep climb (average 15% gradient) up the road for 1.5 kilometres to our driveway. It’s hard enough on foot let alone on the bike, so I park at the bottom for my early morning ride around the block (22 kms). Or, I brave the downhill run and hope the brakes don’t get too hot, and Gary picks me up at the bottom an hour or so later. It’s still too warm for a MTB ride in the Conway National Park, so I ride solo on the road at the crack of dawn before the harsh sun beats down on me. It’s pretty at that time of the day; there is often a layer of fog hovering above the sugar cane fields, giving a perception of coolness. It burns away immediately the sun strikes, but usually I am back up the hill by then where it’s about 3 degrees cooler.

Bottom of Staniland Drive

 

Top of Staniland Drive

Our driveway

Being up high means we catch the breeze, when there is some at this time of year. It’s the wet season now – hot and humid. The sweat runs down your back just standing still. A sharp and rude contrast from the dry air of the Victorian alpine region where we spent the last two summers.

Life in the tropics is so very different in all aspects. First of all, it’s hot. Did I mention that? For 3 months of the year you can cut the air with a knife. The bugs are ferocious; mosquitoes, March flies, and any other creepy crawly you care to mention.  And when you live in the forest, scrub itch is rife. Cover up and soak yourself in heavy duty insect repellent when walking (or gardening!) in the forest, otherwise you’ll be scratching in places that start to get embarrassing. For the other nine months of the year, the climate is ideal. Daytime temperatures in the 20’s and overnight below twenty Celsius, with the relative humidity at a much more bearable level – around 60%.

Carport - back of house

Side view with carport

Air conditioning – the world’s greatest invention – makes life very comfortable in our Hill Fort on Mount Lucas in Strathdickie. We face north towards Gregory and the Gregory River, with a carpet of cane fields spread out all the way to State forest.  It’s like we are in an amphitheatre, surrounded by a ring of forest but still have a view of the bright green world below.



View from balcony of Hill Fort

 

Rear courtyard
 

Kitchen with view of courtyard

 

Living area



So now that I am in the one spot for awhile, and have a beautiful view of the valley from my study window, there is no excuse to not write more frequently. I aim to post once a week. Writing this down may make it happen! Meanwhile, there's some gardening to do.....