Inland Serpents

Hi there! Boy, do we have a story to tell you, and what better way than a very accurate, and not at all exaggerated retelling. Please enjoy our misery. Here we go!

A cloudy day, on a continent far, far away, two travellers set out on what should have been a simple 12-kilometre loop through Lamington National Park, eager for rainforest views and glimpses of rare birds. The forest, lush and inviting at first, soon revealed its darker side. Missing a turn, they wandered kilometres off-track, the dense canopy turning day into twilight. Undeterred, they backtracked and plunged onward, but the jungle was no longer going to tolerate that level of forgiveness again.

The trail dissolved into a tangled wilderness of vines, ferns, and sticky spiderwebs. Sticks became machetes as they hacked their way forward, stepping blindly through the undergrowth, eyes searching desperately for pink flagging tape to guide them. Each step brought exhaustion, scratches, and the creeping fear that they might never see the open road again.

Then, a frozen moment of terror: a two-meter blue-bellied black snake lay across their path, venom glistening, its head poised to strike. Hearts pounding, they froze, and miraculously, the snake slithered away, terrified of them. Fear threatened to paralyze them—especially the female hiker, whose phobia of snakes made every step a nightmare—but she pressed on, tears streaming down her face.

Hours of relentless bushwhacking later, the travellers emerged from the suffocating rainforest. Every scratch, every fearful heartbeat, every exhausted step had brought them back to sunlight and the comfort of the open road, forever changed by the wild they had dared to challenge.

Well, we hope everyone enjoyed the recounting of our “Hike from Hell”, it certainly was much more enjoyable to write about the experience than actually live it. But we survived, and we at "From Eh to G'day" like to see the positive in things so lets cover the other, much more enjoyable adventures, we had around this time.

Jumping back to our arrival at Lamington National Park, we navigated the windiest one-lane mountain road we’d encountered so far. Our fuel mileage plummeted to laughably low levels, but we finally arrived at our home for the night.

We stayed at O’Reilly’s, a stunning eco-resort perched atop its own mountain range, surrounded by rainforest. While the resort offered many adventures, we were most excited for the morning birdwalk. At 6:45 AM, we joined the group, eager to see what we could find. The walk wasn't what we expected and apparently doubled as a bird-feeding tour, but we embraced it and soon had eastern yellow robins landing on our hands to grab the provided goodies. On the walk, we also spotted a pair of eastern whipbirds, their calls echoing like sharp whip cracks. The highlight came at the back of the group, through dense foliage—a noisy pitta, brilliantly coloured, and a seasonal migrant not supposed to be in the park at this time of year!

After the birdwalk, we explored the tree-top walk. A metal ladder clung to the bark of a tall eucalyptus, leading to a platform just big enough for two. From the top, the rainforest stretched out in every direction, a breathtaking view made slightly unnerving by the swaying platform in the strong treetop breeze.

Zooming back in time even further, the night before Lamington National Park, we stayed at a quiet camping spot with a gentle river winding through the trees. In the early morning, before the crack of dawn, James dashed down the riverbank with Katie close behind (she hit snooze once more than James). But it paid off! There it was: gliding silently through the water, one of the rarest and most elusive creatures on the Australia bucket list: a PLATYPUS!

We were frozen in awe, watching the platypus feed and dive just an arms length away. Every movement was mesmerizing, a fleeting glimpse of something almost magical. For a full 15 minutes, we stayed on the riverbank, captivated as the creature swam and fed right beneath our feet. Strange as platypuses are, they are undeniably adorable, and this bucket-list encounter was a quiet triumph we will carry forever. One elusive creature down, and we can't wait to find more on our journey.

These events occurred before the aforementioned "Hike from Hell", so our journey continued as we slithered away from the giant snakes to more coastal climates.