After a relaxing lunch overlooking the bay and cricket practice, we watched the nightly spectacle of the large bats on their flight to find food. The colony of bats was huge and it was several minutes before finally disappearing into the distance.

Bundaberg region-find the Spirit.

Friday and we drove the 100 k’s to Bundaberg. Coming into the area there was the sign. Bundaberg Region Find the Spirit. I thought it was quite humorous. Well we found the spirit and did a tour and rum tasting after we had lunch at the little cafe there. Couldn’t say I’d recommend the lunch. A cold pre packaged sandwich that cost $10:50 which left us feeling hungry.

A stroll through Bundaberg Rum‘s story from its inception in 1888, it’s first bottle being produced in 1889.

A chat to Bundy Bear, always a must

And our tour began

There was a generous wine tasting at the end consisted of a liqueur tasting and a top shelf rum tasting of choice. After three shots I was glad that I wasn’t driving.

With our designated driver at the wheel we headed for the Bert Hinkler museum.

Bert Hinkler was born in Bundaberg. He was a pioneer Australian aviator and inventor. He was always fascinated by flight and designed and built early aircraft. He was the first person to fly solo from England to Australia, and the first person to fly solo across the Southern Atlantic Ocean.

Unfortunately the museum was just closing as we arrived at four.

Separated from the museum by a piece of manicured lawn was Mon Repos, Bert Hinkler’s house. The house Mon Repos was named after the beach in Bundaberg where Bert Hinkler tested his home made gliders. This house was the house that Bert lived in in Sholing, Southampton England for the last six years of his life. The house was due for demolition to make way for a housing estate and was rescued and brought to Bundaberg. Bert Hinkler died in Italy at the age of 39 during an attempt to break the flying record to Australia. His plane crashed into a mountainside in Pratomagno Italy and he was buried in Florence, Italy.

Finishing the day at Scarness Beach. A walk before dinner at the Beach House restaurant and a walk along Scarness Jetty after dinner.

From the jetty looking back at the Beach House Restaurant.

After leaving Cape Byron and the sea behind me I turned back onto the Pacific Highway and put Gympie in as the next destination. There were a dozen more places I would have loved to have checked out but I wanted to get to Hervey Bay by three o’clock.

The rain began again but not as severe as yesterday. There were short patches of the white rain but mostly it was a heavy soft rain.

After approx 330 kilometres of rain and road works it was nice to be able to stop and rest a while. I pulled into Gympie and looked for a supermarket. I drove down a Main Street under re-construction. Witches hats made it a narrow one way street. With the bobcats in operation I was beginning to regret turning on to the street but I couldn’t turn back. Three cars in front of me the little white car pulled over and stopped. As we slowly drove over the dumped dirt and rocks in the middle of the lane there was the little white car covered in red mud and the owner now standing beside it in utter disbelief. Her face seemed to read. WTF. I was so so grateful that I hadn’t been just a minute earlier and that it wasn’t me standing beside JenJen say WTF.

There was a walkway war memorial with several tiled plaques.

I had my lunch in the rotunda in the park. The rain spat down and I was beginning to think I was going to be trapped in the rotunda. It didn’t last long but I had spent longer than intended in Gympie.

Deciding I wouldn’t make it to Hervey Bay on time I decided to miss Maryborough and go straight to Hervey Bay. I missed the turn off and ended by going through Maryborough anyway. The GPS couldn’t find the new streets where I was headed and long story short it took a bit of alternative thinking but I finally arrived at my destination. And not too much behind time.

The rain was down to an occasional spit this morning so I finally had the chance to do the tourist thing. I drove down to the foreshore, a whole 300 meters from where I had spent the night. There were surfers getting into their gear and some already in the water.

I decided to take a stroll along the breakwater. At the end of the breakwater there was a walk linking Mutton Bird island to the mainland. I had an overwhelming urge to put my feet onto the island. The spits of rain were becoming more frequent and I had no rain gear with me. I took the gamble. I’ll just put my feet on the island and then turn back. But the Forrest Gump in me just kept walking. I followed the path to the lookout on the island’s summit. The spotty rain was replaced with a brisk wind that blew and swirled around me. And the view, it was well worth the walk. On my way back I noticed the many Shearwater bird burrows. I had read about them on the boards at the entrance to the island but didn’t expect to see one. There must have been hundreds. Amazing.

A view from Mutton Bird Island.

Some Shearwater (Mutton Bird) burrows.

Coffs Harbour jetty

A sheltered beach

Leaving Coffs Harbour I couldn’t resist the temptation to stop and take a photo of the iconic big banana. Opened in 1964 it was one of the first big things (the banana) in Australia. The owner originally wanted something that could get people on the Pacific Highway to stop at his banana stall. I was amazed at how it has grown since then and what was now available. Apart from huge water slides, an ice rink, laser tag there is also cheese making workshops and candy making. I’m adding it to my list of things to do next time.

Many years ago a family I knew moved to Yamba so that was my next stop. It looked to me very much a fishing town, both professional and hobbiest. I liked the town. It had quite the country feel but also had a huge waterfront caravan park full of holiday makers.

It had its dramatic coastlines and serene beaches.

After the GPS took me to a closed road and a ferry that was no longer operating I abandoned my quest to see Ballina. But on the way back I found the smallest, cutest post office with equally small and cute outhouse opposite the Empire Vale Public school.

Byron Bay. Totally not what I expected. It was chaotic. The traffic,the people, the non existent parking. After driving around I felt like I was in the middle of a huge herd. Not game to stop moving and not knowing how to get out. I eventually made my way to the lighthouse thinking I could relax there for a few minutes but it was just as bad. No stopping, hooray, one park available. A quick look around a few quick photos and I headed back down into the herd again.

After finding my way back to the Pacific Hwy I put Hervey Bay into the GPS. Then the nearly non stop rain began, torrential at times. With the view through the windscreen one of white water and outlines of white I couldn’t find a place to stop and wait it out. I was tempted to take a road to somewhere, anywhere just to be able to get off the Highway. Finally a Pit Stop with a Maccas. Now I was able to do a bit of research and find what was nearby. I found that I was only five minutes from Pimpama. I escaped to its safety. After buying dinner I asked a young girl in the tavern if she knew of any local accommodation. She was precious. She didn’t but she looked them up for me, made a phone call and gave me the address of the motor inn in Coomera.

There is something glorious about an early cloudy morning. After leaving Long Jetty my first stop for the day was Norah Head lighthouse. There was a bit of a cool breeze but there was no chill to the air. The path to the lighthouse seemed to be a favourite with walkers.

The sky was dark and the sea choppy. It was a beautiful start to the day.

I drove along Elizabeth Bay Rd and stopped off at one of the many viewing platforms. A lone walker pushing against the wind walked along an otherwise deserted beach. Behind him tiny Bird Island and a freighter. All set with an incredible backdrop of rain darkened clouds and early morning sun.

I couldn’t resist calling into Cams Wharf.

My next stop was Belmont.

An all weather swimmer leaving the water at the end of the pier.

At Joes Cutting Rd 95 K from Port Macquarie the trees from the bushfires already green and rejuvenating. I noticed as I drove on the blackened bark from the trees falling away with the new growth vibrant underneath. It just goes to slow how amazing nature is.

Port Macquarie was my next stop. I sat down at the waterfront and had my lunch. It was nice, I thought the town would be bigger. I could see the massive grey clouds that seemed to have settled and I watched as a lone fisherman packed up his gear and headed off. I had the idea that if I was going to make it to Coffs Harbour maybe I should also be moving.

But before arriving at Coffs Harbour there was one place left that I just had to visit. Nambucca Heads.

It really is a beautiful part of the coast. With some amazing and very different street art

At Coffs Harbour for the night. The rain has keep me indoors so I hope to have a look around tomorrow morning.

Dad and Dave, Mum and Mabel in Gundagai

Yarri and Jacky Jacky from the great floods of 1852 when they helped rescue approx 70 townspeople using bark canoes -Gundagai

The old bridges, now national trust.

The old flour mill 1848 is the oldest surviving building and the only surviving building from the original town site

…and the dog sits on the tuckerbox nine miles from Gundagai.

Watched over by the big Koala. Lol

View over the Yass Valley from the Yass Fossil site

Hamilton Hume the explorer and his wife Elizabeth are buried in Yass.

Cooma Cottage at Yass where Hamilton Hume lived.

Paul just out of Yass. Lovely guy.

The big merino at Goulburn. King Kong, eat your heart out.

Gordon VC rest stop, Belango Rd

Long Jetty NSW. My stop for the night

It’s was dusk when I stopped for the night. I left home at 7:30 and I have had the most amazing day. Thought I would make it to Gundagai but Tarcutta is good. I’ll post some pic and maybe finish the writing later. Will see how I go. I have a takeaway hamburger and chips for dinner from what used to be the truckies roadhouse. Tarcutta was once the turnaround point for trucks as it was about half way between Melbourne and Sydney. Now that the Hume bypasses it it is no longer used. Anyway that’s where I am now in the Halfway Motel. And here are some pics. With the on again off again wifi I finally got through my day and jotted down to a quick line or two to explain. Will fill in the gaps later.

It was still grey when I left this morning but by the time I turned onto Melba Hwy the morning had cleared. I seemed to be chasing three hot air balloons which were coming into land at Yarra Glen. With white clouds resting on the mountains the morning really was picture postcard perfect.

Coming into Yea there was a market being set up so I couldn’t just drive on by

Believe it or not but Carters shop is the oldest in Yea and has some type of historic overlay and can’t be pulled down.

The above pics taken at the Flora Fossil site just out of Yea where they have found a plant fossil, known today as Baragwanathia which first appeared around 415 million years ago, at a time when Australia was still part of the Gondwana super continent. The fossils are the oldest of their kind in the world.

Cheviot Railway Tunnel.

There was a bumper sticker that said where the farck is Yarck. On the side of the pub it says here the farck is Yarck.

Euroa. Three local VC reciprents

This looked beautiful and as I was walking back over the bridge I noticed that the water was black.

The above building was built using the original handmade bricks from the bank which stood on this site. It was the one robbed by the Kelly gang as per the below shot

I loved Euroa. Beautiful town with so much history.

Rose garden in the Botanical gardens in Benalla

The Broken River Benalla

I tried to find the Broken River Hotel where Laurie worked 1983 1984 but there are no hotels left in the Main Street. I think I may have found it and it is now a newspower shop.

A mural from the wall of the hotel

Mural s from the wall of toilet block at the Mokoan Rest stop northbound just out of Benalla

Mural s from the Mokoan Rest Stop southbound

Glenrowan

National trust house in Chiltern where George Handel Richardson lived for 18 months

The oldest grapevine in the world according to the Guinness book of records planted 1867 at the vine hotel Chiltern

Chiltern, an historic town . Cute could nearly believe you were still in the 1950’s

The name says it all

Holbrook the submarine town

Tarcutta and the Lights On The Hill monument to all the truck drivers that have died in accidents.

My pit stop for the night. It’s been one amazing day and a gold star to anyone who made it to the end.

I picked up the escape vehicle aka JenJen on Friday, washed on Saturday, packed yesterday and rearing to go. Saturday morning – early I hope – we will be on our way to Hervey Bay Qld. Nearly 2000 k. Looking at maybe five days travel and the best part, apart from having 10 days off that is, nothing is planned. There are a few places I want to stop at and and a few things I want to see. If it happens it happens.

Isn’t she beautiful.

On our last day in Finisterre we woke late to a light rain. We hadn’t meant to sleep in and we now felt a little rushed. Not that we needed to be. We had decided to take the 9:45 bus back to Santiago. As of October our first choice bus at 11:45 no longer ran. At that time there was only the indirect route which took over three hours to Santiago. Now that the rain seemed to be set in for the day we were happy to be leaving early. The bus was full when it left 10 minutes late and we were glad we had bought our tickets the day before.

On the bus and the bus drove down to the bay to turn around in the narrow streets. The bay was choppy and still snuggled in white.

After leaving Finisterre we saw several pilgrims covered in ponchos and huddled against the rain on the last of their journey into the village. The light rain that continued throughout our journey threw a white blanket over the landscape only allowing the immediate scenery to be visible. An hour and a half after leaving Finisterre we were back in Santiago. A little quicker than the four days we took to walk. In the light rain and with the help of a fellow pilgrim we walked the fifteen minutes to our albergue. It was set high above Santiago and even in the misty rain the view from our bedroom window was amazing.

By three o’clock we had settled in and organised our ongoing travel plans. We had decided on a quiet day and headed out to find a supermarket to buy supplies for a home cooked dinner. The rain had now stopped and the sun was shining as we walked around our new location.

In the park below a sculpture that could be interpreted in a variety of ways.

A bit further down the hill old city walls and buildings

Santiago de Compostela from our home, from our home on the hill for the next two days.

We arrived in Finisterre yesterday. We have walked officially nearly 900 kilometres but in actual fact with all the extras we have walked I would say it was closer to 1000. We averaged 245,000 steps a week which averages 35,000 steps a day.

We originally aimed for 20 kilometres a day but we managed to exceed that by accidentally doing some 30 plus kilometre days.

What would we change? Probably not a lot. A couple of clothing items would have stayed home and a few more pegs would have been very handy. David added that he would have bought a set of ear plugs with him. The only accommodation we had booked in advance was our first night at Orisson and our last two days in Santiago. This worked to our advantage but occasionally added to the stress levels.

We have met many amazing people along the way. Some we have known for an evening, some we have seen several times too say hello and have a chat and with others we have amazing memories.

Here are some photos of our second day in Finisterre.

The morning light glistening across the harbour on another beautiful day.

On the waterfront the houses are newer and there are many restaurants.

A couple of streets in and there is a mixture of the loved and the pre-loved.

Finisterre is still a fishing village. As we walked around town we saw several men sitting, mending large fishing nets. Here are some of the fishing fleet in the harbour.

Castillo de San Carlos. In the 18th century King Carlos 3rd ordered this fortification to be built to defend the coast against attacks by foreign ships. It is now a fishing museum.

In the evening we watched the fishing boats out in the bay as the fog rolled in slowly hiding the mountains on the other side.

The cold wind began to chill us as the night moved in. We were glad we had seen the brilliant sunset last night as there would not be one tonight. Our last night in Finisterre and I didn’t want it to end.

Everything was wet when we walked out into the inky black morning. I don’t think it had rained, but it looked like it had. We walked out of the little village and back down the highway, past where we had had dinner last night. We had had another pilgrims menu as that was all that was on offer but it was nothing exceptional. Yesterday afternoon knowing that in the morning we would be passing the double markers in the dark we had walked the half kilometre to see them in daylight. To the left our destination, to the right, Muxia. It is common now for pilgrims to do a circuit. Either to Finisterre then on to Muxia then back to Santiago or to Muxia, Finisterre, then back to Santiago.

By nine o’clock dew drops still clung to greenery and being Sunday and on a quiet dirt road there were several what appeared to be hunters. They didn’t have guns but their dogs appeared to be beagles and setters. Sometimes a mix of the two.

We explored a small track to a punto de inters -point of interest. It was 100 meters in and 100 meters out on a narrow paved track. We saw a lonely cross in a small courtyard. Our reward -apart from seeing the cross- were wet legs and wet shoes where the overhanging shrubbery still filled with the early morning dew had brush up against our legs.

At an Alto we saw through thick pines our first glimpse of the ocean. We continued along a wide gravelled road, until suddenly there snuggled along the far side of the bay was Cee. We still had a long way to go but we had made it to the coast.

In the main plaza of Cee, there was a Sunday market. It was difficult navigating around Cee but with the Camino passing through the market I am assuming the stalls were hiding any markers, it was very difficult to find our way. Once again helpful locals with a happy smile and a follow me or a wave in the right direction helped up through. An hour later above the bay of Cee the arrows pointed us along a long, walled laneway that took us once again to above sea level.

We were then led through towns, then onto lanes and paths through gums and ferns

Reaching a view that overlooked Finisterre. We could see the lighthouse at the end of the world. And it was a perfect day. A warm 21 degrees with just the slightest of cooling breezes. We felt welcomed.

We began following the bay along the roads above. Eventually we stepped on to a crazy path that we followed for several kilometres into Finisterre. These shoes with a view of the ocean along the crazy path.

The crazy path seemed to go on forever until, Finisterre.

That evening we completed our journey to the zero marker and waited while the sun set at the end of the world.

And I’m sad to say but it is The End of Dave at the end of the day at the end of the world.