We made good progress thanks to Kevin's indefatigable driving, and Jemima's sudden love of Frozen (knowing all the songs means she now likes the film, which is very handy). And by 3pm we were near the Capricorn Caves, recommended for their hour long guided tour. Having missed all the New Zealand caves, Kevin kindly humoured my cave yen, and we stopped off.
To be honest, hardcore spelunking (potholing in English) this was not. Nice wooden steps and walkways took us into the open and impressive caverns, with stalactites, stalagmites, tree roots growing floor to ceiling, and imaginary cave creatures made out of the shapes in the walls (a dragon, a crocodile, a dromedary). And at the heart, Cathedral Cave, a natural opening that is so perfectly formed that they use it for weddings. It is also remarkable for its acoustics: our guide played a lovely choral version of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, and the sound was incredible, rich and full. And then he turned out the lights, and the blackness was absolute - apparently after an hour or so you start to hallucinate because your brain can't fix you in space.
Then we wound our way out, through a narrow twisty passage called the zig zag corridor, over two swingbridges (which made Jemima happy), and into the open air. No glowworms, but it was still fun to see a cave, and we got some other interesting information too: the plague of cane toads in Australia (250 million now they reckon) started with the import of 250 in the 1800s, to eat the pests harming the sugar cane. They are a real problem - our guide had lost dogs because they're poisonous when eaten, and he used to be sent into the back garden with a golf club by his dad when young, "to practice his swing" on the toads on the lawn. More seriously, a local mountain was the site of a massacre of aborigines when 300 men, women and children were thrown off it by a Major Wheeler. The mountain, horrifyingly, was named after him, and only renamed last year. As a result, local aborigines apparently accord the white Australians the status of a hostile tribe - but at least they are no longer in a state of war. (There was a really good centre locally for exploring aboriginal culture, but sadly it was closed on the weekends - hopefully we'll get the chance somewhere else.)
Anyway, a short final drive, and then we were in Rockhampton, beef capital of Australia. Our usual routine: find campsite; park up; swim with Jemima; and then dinner - going out for steak the only option tonight, given our location.
We'd been recommended the Criterion, an elegant cream, fretworked and verandah'd hotel dating from 1889 (where the Queen has stayed!). The interior was more Wetherspoons than the Ritz, with lots of dressed up Rockhamptonites out for Saturday night; but everyone was, as usual, welcoming and jolly; and the steak was, as promised, fantastic - perfectly cooked, melt in the mouth tasty. Sadly Jemima was flagging so we had to leave before the band came on and the party really started - but then it had been a long day, and we had the same to do again tomorrow.
Airlie Beach to Rockhampton:
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