Beatrix pottering: Swimming like a Queenslander

Four Mile Beach at Port Douglas is as stunning as its name suggests. But, like every beach around here, it's pretty pointless - it's not much fun being on the beach if you can't swim in the sea, and no-one, literally no-one we have asked, risks swimming in the sea at this time of year because of the jellyfish, even within the stinger net enclosures (the crocodile show man yesterday said they were a joke for tourists, and he gets a crocodile to attack him every day as his job...). So today, after some research, Kevin found out what the locals do instead, and took us there.

And that is: crocodile-free swimming holes. Our one was at the Shannonvale Creek. The website said you can't miss it as the road goes through it. We didn't really understand this until we got there; but yes, the road did actually ford the creek, ankle deep in water, with a deeper area for swimming either side. And it was possibly one of the most beautiful places I've ever swum. A sandy bank shaded by beautiful jungly trees stretching off either side into wilderness, shelving into a crystal clear creek scattered with smooth boulders, shallow enough to always touch the sandy bottom, not too fast flowing, little fish skimming about (jungle perch we later learned), deep electric blue butterflies fluttering above, and a solitary friendly duck. Like something out of a fairy story.

We swam (Jemima was reluctant at first as it was a bit cold and unfamiliar, but by the end of the day she was splashing about very happily); we had lunch next to the creek; I snoozed blissfully in a camping chair; we swam some more; and we were joined throughout the day by a changing cast of local characters: a large family were all swimming when we first got there; then two men came to sit on plastic crates, smoke roll ups and drink beer; a former coal miner, now mechanic, came for lunch and a swim with his three year old Skyla; an elderly lady swam with an adorable puppy called Biggles (they played with Jemima for ages); a young couple waved at every single pick up truck (and they were all pick up trucks) that forded the creek while they were swimming; and then, at school leaving time, three more families came with chairs, coolers, beer and large dogs to smoke, swim and chat - and they all knew each other. (Australians really are very friendly - we get chatted to a lot.) It was a paradisical place, they were all very lucky to have it as their local spot. But sadly we couldn't stay forever; and the mossies were beginning to enjoy us a bit too much; so eventually we packed up and rolled on.

Jemima quickly fell asleep so we decided to put some miles in (we had realised this morning that 15% of our trip had gone and were no further south than we'd started, after our lovely potter around far North Queensland). Our route took us on smooth roads up through some jungly mountains into the Atherton tablelands: undulating hills of wild tropical vegetation, or banana, mango or sugar cane plantations. After a couple of hours and a few false attempts, we found a place for the night just as dusk and the rain were falling; so we hunkered in the van with burgers and salad, then all crashed out - such a lovely day.