A Cable Car Named Desire

Another darned day in paradise. I woke, as is the norm, before my slumbersome spouse and stepped out onto the balcony of our bugalow to see what the weather had to offer (and was presented with the vista above). Sunny? Check. Hot? Check. Gentle sea breeze to take the edge of the humidity? Check. That'll do, thought I, and went back inside to wake wife and daughter for yet another exciting adventure - a cable car ride over the rainforest.

Not wanting to delay our departure more than was absolutely necessary we breakfasted on chocolate out of the mini-bar (the health-kick can wait 'til the New Year), tramped stickily up to reception and had one of the staff bring our cavernous SUV round for us. It's wonderful that they offer this 'valet' service, not just because it saves us the walk down to the car park but also as they're canny enough to stick the air con. on full wack, so that by the time we get in it's all nicely chilled.

We were heading south, back towards Cairns, and the Skyrail Rainforest Cableway which climbs up over the mountains to a little town called Kuranda. After an hour's drive, we parked up at the Skyrail terminal and stepped from the cool airconditioned luxury of our car into the kind of heat that comes from the shimmering tarmac beneath your feet rather than the sun above. It was hot, hot, hot.

We made a dash for the shade of the Skyrail and bumped into nice middle-aged couple from our boat trip on Shaolin. They'd just come down from Kuranda and, whilst Mrs. middle-aged had had a delightful time, Mr. middle-aged had liked it considerably less, suffering from a problem with heights. Oh dear. So that's snorkelling and cable cars out. They were waiting for a coach to take them on the 'second part' of their tour - whatever that might be, we tend to feel the same about coach tours as we do cruise ships - so we bade them farewell and headed for the Skyrail.

The cableway itself is over 4 miles long and climbs up the mountainside over some of the oldest rainforest on earth. There's just the right amount of room in the cable car for four or five adults or, in our case, 2 adults, one child and a push-chair. All loaded on board the main cable grabs the car and all but hurls it up over the trees. Quite exhilirating. Within a couple of minutes we were already enjoying wonderful views of the trees below, climbing toward the first mountain rigde, enjoying stunning vistas of the coast and the sea behind us.

Tizer thought it was fantastic, immediately squishing her nose against the cable car window with a look of complete delight on her face. There are two stops along the way before you get to Kuranda, and we were approaching the first one after quarter of an hour or so of skimming the treetops. We were helped, push-chair and all, out of our cable car by a really friendly member of staff (they were all very good, putting the surly teenagers you get working in many of the UK's tourist attractions to shame). We took a wander along the decked walkway that leads off into the rainforest and joined a little guided tour where a terribly knowledgable ranger type - kitted out in the de rigeuer khaki shirt, shorts and bushman's hat - spouted forth about the different trees and plants, how they pollenated and some of their medicinal properites.

Back onto the skyrail, this time with the push-chair travelling behind us in its own cable car, the kind lady at the station having told us we may be a little more comfortable that way, which was nice. The next stop, another 20 minutes up the line, once more had a decked path to follow which brought us out to the edge of a gorge, complete with waterfall, cutting its way through the rainforest. Having taken the obligatory photos, we re-joined the skyrail again and completed our journey to Kuranda.

Now, whilst the cable car trip was possibly one of the highlights of our holiday so far, Kuranda, by comparison, was something of a disappointment. It often seems to be the way that certain journies - especially those of the 'scenic rail' variety - generally end at a pretty pointless destination, the journey itself being the thing that really draws to tourists. Kuranda, originally a mountain retreat of bohemian artist types, was now just one long drag of tacky shops selling tourist tat - hats, T-shirts, digeridoos, boomerangs. Shop, after shop, after shop of the damn stuff. There was a small park at the end with a little playground that we briefly thought Tizer might like to visit, but it was stinking hot and the local police seemed to have chosen it as a venue for hassling some Aborigne kids, so we turned heel and headed back to the skyrail.

Despite the disappointment of Kuranda, it didn't really bother us, as the trip back was just as spectacular as the trip there. Okay, so it was still the same route, same rainforest, but this time we could stay on all the way through and really enjoy the views. It was late afternoon by this time and the sun was low enough to really show off the multitude of greens in the rainforest canopy as we passed over it. We even so a cockatoo, though failed miserably to get a photo of it, succeeding only in taking a slightly blurred picture of Tizer's arm and the top of the seat.


Yes, it was all a bit touristy (we even bought the photo of us that's automatically taken as your cable car comes into 'land' back at the terminal, for crying out loud!) but it was a top notch day out. Tizer loved it, pointing back at the cable cars and saying "Again, again" as we left, which is always a good sign.

We managed to get back to the hotel in time to change and head into Port Douglas for dinner. We found a rather nice little tapas (and pizza) restaurant, and Tizer - whilst getting some cautious glances for our fellow diners when we first arrived - was pretty much well behaved throughout. She didn't like her pizza, unfortunately, as it was herbed to an extent that just about completely obscured the cheese, but she enjoyed sharing my tapas with me. I finished the meal with an Espresso Martini which was not only deliciously invigorating but really bloody strong. Just about put me on my back (and probably would have done if it wasn't for the conter-acting effects of the caffiene).

We finished the evening off sitting outside a bar across the street from the restaurant that had a pretty good singer/pianist type doing a good mixture of songs that Tizer enjoyed having a little dance to. Then back to the hotel, and the prospect of a 'free' day tomorrow. Nothing planned. Nothing at all. Hell, we may even sit around the pool in the sun and do - well - nothing. Oh, the hedonistic lethargy of it all...