The Detouring Doctor

Monday on Thursday Island

Post author By Peter Meggyesy
Post date 4 July 2023
No Comments on Monday on Thursday Island

It is Monday at 9 am, a time that for any conurbation on the planet would be peak hour. We are walking across Douglas Street the main road on Thursday Island, TI to the locals, and one could shoot the proverbial cannon up the main street and not hit anyone. The temperature is a balmy 26degrees. We arrive at the jetty, our meeting place for our drive around TI and true to island time we wait.

The Torres strait Islands are a chain of 133 islands strewn between the tip of Cape York at the northernmost point of Australia and PNG. Only 14 are inhabited and most of those are centred around TI.

The Torres strait is named after Spanish navigator Luiz Vaz de Torres who sailed through the strait in 1606. In 1770 the redoubtable Captain James Cook landed on Possesion Island around Cape York and claimed the east coast of Australia for England. In 1789 Captain Bligh sailed by after the famous mutiny on the Bounty and names four islands in the area as Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday Islands.

The people on TI are a fascinating fusion of nations and cultures. In 1884 a lucrative pearling industry was established at TI. The result was an influx of people not just from Anglo Saxon background but from Japan, Malaya and India. These men settled here and intermarried and the result is a fascinating hybrid of many nations. Also the locals we have spoken too are adamant that racial tolerance is a way of life here.

Uncle Brian our driver and guide takes us around the island pointing out with pride the historic buildings and the infrastructure of note. The Queensland government buildings here are brand spanking new and clearly there has been a significant spend of public monies.

The highlight of any trip to TI is Green Hill Fort situated on a small grassy hill 58 metres above sea level at the western end of TI. The Torres Strait Islands featured in WW2 and Horn Island was bombed repeatedly by the Japanese. Consequently visitors here think that this is a WW2 relic. Nothing could be further from the truth! This fort was built between 1891 and 1893 well before either of the world wars. As improbable as it seems now the fear was actually that of Russian invasion and well before the Soviet era. Living on the Mornington peninsula half a world away the fortifications at Portsea are against the same perceived threat. The views from here over the township, the turquoise sea and the surrounding islands is sublime.

The fascinating cemetery was a punishing after lunch slog over a steep hill in 30 degree heat. The multicultural basis to this society is highlighted by the gravestones frequently hosting English and Asian combinations. There is a memorial to the 19th century pearl fishers. In the lower reaches of the cemetery there is a veritable forest of plain whitewashed posts. Adorned with Japanese calligraphy each represents a 19th century pearl fisher who perished free diving for these treasures. Silent and poignant.

The afternoon sees me back on Green Fort Hill, relaxing on a grassy knoll and enjoying a tropical sunset.

Laura Quinkan

Photo envy

The planning for this trip goes back almost two years ago. While I am very happy with my photography when it comes to scenery and nature, I am envious of those who are great at “people shots”. There is something magic about capturing one’s essence, one’s soul in a photograph. One of my patients a well travelled chap introduced me to his website: emic.com. I was entranced by the images there and particularly his then recent trip to far north Queensland for the biennial indigenous dance festival, Laura Quinkan. I booked it there and then for 2023.

To fill out the week before Laura Quinkan my research led me to a typically “off the beaten track destination, the Torres Strait islands. The archipelago between Cape York and PNG which is surprisingly well serviced with daily QANTAS flights between Cairns and Horn Island. A short ferry ride brings us to Thursday Island, the sleepy administrative headquarters of the Torres Strait on a quiet Sunday afternoon with dinner on the balcony of the Grand Hotel

Noumea 2023

When is a long weekend not a long weekend?

Post author By Peter Meggyesy
Post date 23 June 2023
No Comments on When is a long weekend not a long weekend?

Two months ago I received a QANTAS email about half price airfares to certain destinations. Noumea over the King’s birthday weekend looked great! Leave Friday and return Tuesday fits the bill nicely. Our on ground experience confirmed that this is the perfect getaway.

Come Tuesday morning we board our flight and wait. Half hour after our departure time an announcement from the captain confirms our worst fears. Engine malfunction no replacement part, flight cancelled. As there are few flights out of Noumea on any given day we lined up got ,our instructions, and back to Noumea for the night. Very late that night after a commiseration dinner of foie gras and truffled brie, a text message had us on an early flight out the next morning.

Anse Varta beach photographed during our delays

A 4:30 wake up on Wednesday to get us there and we have a different plane at the air bridge but eventually the same result. Engine troubles, no fix, flight cancelled. Another 1 hour drive back to Noumea and over lunch a text to say we are on the 5 pm flight out to Brisbane and then to Melbourne. This time our flight leaves Noumea but 45 minutes late and too late for our connecting flight to Melbourne which is the last one leaving Brisbane. As we land in Brisbane the text message drops to reticket our flight to Thursday morning. Our 4 hour flight takes 3 days and our long weekend morphs into a week away sadly with the last 3 days being waits in airports, queues and multiple 1 hour drives between Noumea and the airport. First world problems to be sure but after 2 full days lost income those half price airfares don’t look like such a bargain after all.

Noumea 2023

Our final day….or is it?

King’s birthday Monday has us driving out again, this time to the east coast. I am now well used to the left hand manual rental car and driving on the right side of the road. The road is wide, sealed and good until after the Blue River Park. Beyond this it rapidly deteriorates and is heavily rutted, potholed and has rough speed humps.

Beyond the village of Yate we reach the pretty Wandiana Falls before turning back to Noumea.

Our final stop for the day is Ouen Toro lookout, a former military installation overlooking Noumea.

Noumea 2023

Amedee Island

Sunday sees us at Port Moselle, the harbour of Noumea boarding the boat for a 1 hour trip to Amedee Island. Fringed by coral reefs this tiny speck of sand in the ocean is part of a much larger coral reef that is second in size only to our Great Barrier Reef. As such the 56metre light house built in the reign of Napoleon the third is an important navigational aid.

While the waters were too cold to go swimming or snorkelling we had a lovely day walking on the pristine white sand beach, climbing the lighthouse for a bird’s eye view of the island and fish and turtle watching in a glass bottom boat. Lunch and wine were provided and we were gobsmacked by the restaurant quality food on offer in a beachside picnic setup.

Lighthouse

Noumea 2023

New Caledonia

Captain James Cook was the first European to sight New Caledonia in 1774 on his second voyage. He felt that the northeast coast of the island resembled Scotland, hence the name. Four years later the similarly accomplished French explorer La Perouse sailed past the island group before mysteriously disappearing.

It was in 1853 that the emperor Napoleon 111 ordered a French naval fleet to take possession of the island group and established a penal colony there until 1880. The effect of European colonisation had an all too familiar impact on the local, indigenous, Kanak population which was decimated by outbreaks of measles and smallpox.

After the second world war New Caledonia became an overseas French colony and all citizens were granted French citizenship. The decades since has seen uneasy relations between the Kanaks and the French with several uprisings. Nonetheless multiple referendums to gain independence have failed and the country is very much French.

Noumea, the capitol is a quiet little town. Our Saturday morning 1 hour stroll was more than enough time to “see the sights”

The quaintly named Coconut square is at the heart of Noumea

The afternoon has us driving through the mountainous spine of the island into the countryside. While there is certainly much similarity with other tropical Pacific islands with mountains, palm trees and tropical rainforest, there are also vast tracts lightly forested hillsides, grasslands and even massive lakes that contrast this pretty island from others.

Noumea 2023

When is a country not a country?

Post author By Peter Meggyesy
Post date 23 June 2023
1 Comment on When is a country not a country?

When it is one of the last vestiges of the former French colonial empire. These countries are defined as departments of France and are as much a part of France as say Paris is. The citizens vote in the French elections and send parliamentary representatives to Paris. They do not have a seat at the UN. Of the four “non countries” I have visited namely Tahiti, French Guyana, America Samoa and now New Caledonia three belong to France.

Frances colonial record is not a happy one. Decolonisation in the 20th century produced some distinctly messy outcomes, witness Vietnam, Algeria and much of West Africa. Nonetheless these last vestiges of French colonial rule are charming little outposts and none more so than New Caledonia and its capitol Noumea a short 1 hour fliht north east of Brisbane. Fortunately for visitors the French invariably leave one outstanding legacy, to die for French cuisine. Our first night in Noumea sees us walking through a tropical downpour to an overwater restaurant, Le Roof, and has me in seventh heaven with Foie Gras, Mangrove crab and tarte tatin washed down with a smart Bordeaux.

Socotra

Caveman

I am sad to leave my enchanted forest of dragon trees and the bone jarring 4WD drive off the plateau does nothing to lift my spirits. Back down on the sealed coast road we fly alongside white sand beaches in the stifling heat. When our jeep stops in the middle of nowhere I look around and spot a series of rusted out ancient small tanks half buried in the sand to form gun emplacements. It turns out that these were put there by the Russians in the 1962 – 1970 North Yemen Civil War. It turns out that the poor Yemenis can’t take a trick when it comes to the revolving door of their civil wars.

A brief stop at a watering hole which was a meteorite crater.

Then to our stunning white sand beach campsite.

The afternoon sees us wading in the sea to the cave campsite of the caveman of Socotra. Ellai is his name. I am the first of our group and the thin shirtless figure greets me with a broad grin and shakes my hand. His cave’s entrance is adorned with whale bones and he tells me to go into his cave while he takes the existing round of punters into the sea to fish for clams and squid.

On return he tells us of his life born in the cave and living here exclusively until the last few years where he returns to his wife in the local town each night. He claims to be 59 years old but looks a bit younger than that to me. His English is very good as he rattles off some witty yarns. Presumably as we leave some money changes hands between our guide and the caveman. All a bit touristy and slick but with a certain third world charm.

Our final morning has us on a 90 minute boat trip to a secluded beach for a final swim. Rugged cliffs loom over our port side while pods of dolphins play around us. We set up on the pristine white sand beach and enjoy the cooling turquoise water.

So our time on fantasy island comes to an end. As a seasoned traveller of almost 100 countries I am blown away by this magnificent place and it is now up there with some of my favourites. Raw and unspoilt the ongoing civil war on the mainland guarantees that only an intrepid few will travel here in the short term. During the civil war the Saudis fighting on the government side administered this place. In a strange twist 2 years ago the UAE came in and staged a coup and they now administer Socotra. They have poured in significant money to upgrade infrastructure and the locals are warily pleased. Speaking to them, though, all are waiting to see what the Emirtis want in return. There are already proposals to build tourist resorts on the island and the writing is on the wall. This little eco wonderland paradise will eventually succumb to the demands of the mainstream package tourist industry. Sadly that will destroy one of the most charming aspects of this island, the fact that it an unspoilt wilderness.

Socotra

Dragon blood

The dragon blood tree is emblematic of Socotra. The few people who have heard of this island would all have seen photos of this unique tree. Shaped like an open umbrella it sports tufts of pandanus like leaves. If the bark is damaged blood red sap flows hence the name. Fully mature trees are 600 – 800 years old, they do not grow anywhere else on this planet. Today turns out to be a celebration of this beautiful botanic specimen.

Our morning starts with a brief detour to another, smaller collapsed limestone cave. The short walk takes us to a single expansive chamber with dry stalactites hanging off the ceiling looking for all the world like a frayed curtain. Two massive columns adorn the entrance with vines and ferns growing off them.

Thereafter we ascend to the Dickson plateau bouncing along another diabolical heavily rutted dirt track. Our first stop is to a conservatory dedicated to propagating these ancient living treasures. Prior to human occupation vast forests of dragon blood trees blanketed the high country. Deforestation was the initial blow to dragon tree numbers but now the major impact is the introduced feral goat population which loves to feast on the young plants. Consequently senescent trees are failing without any saplings to replace them. A stone fence greets us enclosing a few hundred small trees. A few inches tall I am told that they are already 16 years old. Tragically all around are goats’ droppings as the fence is not high enough. Tragically most of the plants have been chewed and are struggling. At this rate extinction beckons.

We reach the middle of the island through another stunning gorge this one lined with dragon blood trees. The sun is shining, the sky is blue and the photography is spectacular. Arriving at our lunch spot and campsite for the night we are in the middle of a beautiful forest. We spend the afternoon sipping tea and soaking in the ambience and the view. Before sunset I wander through the forest and along the ridge over the gorge. An orgy of photography ensues.

Socotra

Diversity

This island just keeps amazing me! I awaken earlier and in the predawn light the waves crash onto the white sand beach mere metres from my tent. For the first time this trip we quit the coast road for a direct road through the heart of the mountainous interior. The road rises steeply through a serious of narrow hairpin bends. The further inland we go the worse the road gets until we are on a narrow rock strewn rough track.

The mountains close in on us and the contrast with the first couple of days by the sea could not have been more stark.

Our first stop comprises a half hour steep descent into a beautiful gorge with views to the sea and a beach in the distance. The base of the gorge has layers of contrasting limestone terraces and multiple rockpools. On the valley floor we all strip off to underwear and swim in the cool refreshing waters of Wadi Khalisa. A steep walk back up in the hottest heat that we have experienced has us all ready for an icy cold drink albeit of the soft drink variety in this Muslim country.

After lunch we continue south through the heart of the mountains. The track becomes diabolically bad and our jeeps are often reduced to walking pace. Three bone jarring hours of tough 4WD driving finally gets us to the south coast and a better road. We arrive at a patch of classic sand dune desert, go figure, and have the hour before sunset to explore, photograph and enjoy. I marvel at the ecological diversity of this remarkable “undiscovered” gem.

The coup de grace was dinner and at the crazy price of $20 lobster was too good to refuse.