Day 208 Cape Tribulation

From Cairns we road up the windy Kennedy highway through the Kuranda state forrest to the Kuranda markets. They reminded me of  shops on the esplanade at Byron Bay and a dash of Nimbim without the drugs.

The markets were delightful and we filled our bellies with a delicious falafel pocket. How i have missed middle eastern food after living there for nearly 8 years. It felt like the flavours ran straight to my blood stream like a falafel junkie.

From there we head along the Captain Cook
highway stopping in to see the elegant looking Port Douglas. Riding into town there were 5 star hotels on each side with well manicured lawns everywhere. Once getting to the main street it looked just like Noosa without the constant stream of tourists. We ate lunch on the beach which surprisingly had surf life savers guarding the croc infested beach. We looked at each other confused. Signage warning of crocodiles yet swimmers and lifeguards?
Not to sure how successful they could be saving someone from a croc..

From there we continued on the Mossman Daintree road until we reached a ferry taking us into the Daintree rainforest. The oldest rainforest in the world. It was dense, green in more shades i knew possible and incredibly moving to ride through.
We arrive on the edge of Cape Tribulation and set up camp. We are in a cute local caravan park backing onto the beach as the national park was full. Apparently a common occurance so we set up and went to the beach to watch the pink and purple sunset. Whilst there we found an abundance of coconuts crying for us to cut them open and drink. So Rob got chopping with his thrifty axe and we drank like Kings and Queens.

The next morning we took a romantic stroll along a board walk in the oldest rainforest in the world where the mangroves and rainforest meet. It was magical. The fallen decomposing leaves were all over the ground leaving their skeletons behind that look like the outline of fairy wings. So pretty.
  
We rode along to the Rossville Bloomfield road, stopping in the IGA to get some supplies and randomly a delicious Barramundi Burger. We continued on the dirt road through the forest where our next pub oasis awaited. The Lions Den in Rossville. You couldnt help but be draw into the old worn wood and the huge Lion statue as you enter this place of history built in 1875.

The walls told the stories with photos and signatures marking everything with a quirky museum of random things to top it off out the back.

Rob got chatting to a group of lovely people who live locally as he went off to have a cigarette, a new past time he assures me is just for holidaying. As we went behind the pub to set up camp on the river the group also ended up in our camping vicinity kindly asking us to join them for dinner and drinks.
They were chatty and so funny. We went into the pub after dinner where the patrons were playing guitars and one playing the spoons and singing songs.  Our new friend Elgan became there instantaneous musical director of the group with the confidence of a few beers.  He joined the band playing drums on a green bin which also became his seat.  We laughed, sang and drank. I felt like this was a common occurrence at the Lions Den and we were one group of thousands that had walked away with a piece of the Lions Den memory in our hearts.