Daintree Dreaming

12th-16th December

On Saturday morning we rent a car and drive two hours up the coast to spend four fabulous chill-out days. Our destination is the magnificent Daintree Rainforest which sweeps down to the soft golden sands and dazzling blue seas leading to the Great Barrier Reef– with two World Heritage sites in one, it’s a veritable paradise. And so is our accommodation, which is so discreetly signed from the road that we miss it the first time past.

The Daintree Rainforest starts at the Daintree River and runs up to Cape Tribulation – around 25km of winding road, which then peters out into a track fringing the next section of forest. Cars are taken over the crocodile infested river on a chain ferry. On a later river trip – where we see just one juvenile croc, 9 months old and only 18” long – we are told that our chances of swimming across the river are zero. Though we don’t see them, the waters contain five or six crocs that are 5m long, and many more of 3-4m. I guess there has to be a flaw in every paradise – but paradoxically this is one of the reasons the area is so special. The salt water crocs slip out of the rivers and creeks into the sea and, along with the stingers (huge box jellyfish) that frequent the warm sea throughout the summer months, keep everyone out of the water - which means there is mile after mile of pristine empty beach.

There is also mile after mile of rainforest – and you are in the thick of it the minute you cross the river. The roadsigns change too. We have become used to seeing “kangaroo for the next 5km” or even “tortoise crossing” but the latest ones proclaim “cassowaries for the next 5km”. I’ve never heard of a cassowary! This is not so surprising, as the Daintree is one of their few habitats. These extraordinary flightless birds grow up to 2m in height and are descended from veloceraptors. They are also an endangered species, and the road through the Daintree is peppered with vicious speed humps to stop careless drivers crashing into them. After two days of negotiating said humps we see one ahead of us slowly and elegantly crossing the road. She – for we later discover that this is Big Bertha – is quite lovely, with bright blue and red neck plumage rising out of a pure black body, and a head topped with a crinkled crown.

We drive over the speed humps a few times looking for our boutique B&B. When we eventually spot the sign behind a palm frond, there is a 1.5km uphill track to negotiate to our own private “treehouse”, one of just three at Cockatoo Hill Retreat. Totally unoverlooked, our hilltop cabin has glazed doors leading to balconies running down two sides and looks out onto nothing but rainforest, mangrove trees and the sea. With polished hardwood floors, rattan table and chairs and a princess bed cocooned by white billowing insect nets, it is perfect – and made even more so by the delightful owner, Carmen, for whom nothing is too much trouble. We head to a nearby beach café for lunch, then stroll along the empty beach and paddle in the bath-warm water - before spotting the stinger and croc warning signs,. Luckily our hilltop retreat has an infinity swimming pool, and a supply of fresh coconut milk just harvested from the palm tree we recline under.

We become very attached to the pool, but manage to tear ourselves away for a walk at Coopers Creek under the expert guidance of Pru, a delightful septuagenarian who retired from Melbourne and bought her very own section of rainforest. She obviously adores it and generously shares her love and knowledge of the area as we walk through the outer trees and enter the double canopy of the ancient rainforest which was formed over 135 million years ago. There are examples of cyclids - trees that grew when dinosaurs roamed the earth – and we see one that is thought to be 2,000 years old, and is just about to flower and die. Under the forest canopy is like the land that time forgot. We see several dragons – pre-historic lizard-like creatures clinging to the trees. Though well disguised, they happy to pose as our cameras flash at them - check him out in the pic at the top of this blog.

Palm trees provide the shade of the under canopy, with the few remaining cedars and various species of slow-growing eucalyptus, some entwined in within the predatory fig trees, making up the top canopy. Surrounding the ancient forest, the outer trees are fast growing and protect the main forest from cyclones by funnelling winds upwards and over the tree tops. Pru has experienced two cyclones in the last 16 years and both took a metre or so from the top of the canopy, but there was no large scale loss of the ancient trees. It is very peaceful inside the ancient woodland, and less dense than one would imagine. Sapling-sized trees are often 100 years old – waiting for a larger tree to fall leaving the light for them to grow to the top of the canopy.

The forest floor also contains “bushes” of palms. Known as “wait a while” or “lawyer trees”, both their leaves and a whip like strand they produce to propagate have razor sharp spines that will catch on fur, feathers, or clothing causing those who are caught to wait a while. Once the whip like protrusions have buried their tips into the earth, the spines drop off leaving the smooth cane used for rattan furniture. In areas of damaged forest, plants like these are much more prolific as there is more light for them to develop and this is the typical image we have of westerners hacking their way through dense jungle. In this pristine rainforest, it is more like being in a cathedral of trees, and I was not surprised that Pru’s son had been married here. Pru is an old romantic. I ask why the song of the cicadas moves to a crescendo every now and then. She says that one is signalling his love of another and so he is not found and eaten by a bird, the others join in. It may not be true, but I think of it every time I hear their chorus swell.

Just as there are trees that are unique to the Daintree, there are certain plants that are only found at Coopers Creek – including the wonderfully named “idiot tree - and several species that will only germinate if the seeds have been eaten and passed through the cassowary. We see much evidence of this! We also come across another cassowary – Crinklecut – looking after two chicks, and realise these birds must be endangered if they are all individually named. Cassowaries have reversed the tradition male/female roles. Once the female has laid the eggs she is off, leaving dad to hatch and bring up the kids for 9 months. Crinklecut seemed quite happy with his role, and watching the chicks pushing and kicking each other, was like watching two children play-fighting in the back of a car.

This used to be logging country but the rainforest was protected in the mid-1980s, and now the relatively low-key tourist industry brings in more money than logging ever did. Long may it last. There is no mains electricity here and residents rely on generators and, increasingly, solar power. There is only one mobile phone provider and reception is patchy. TV and internet are only available via expensive satellite connections. But for a few days who needs any of this? We swim in fresh water creeks (no crocs); search for stick insects on fruit trees – and find one more easily on our white car; eat organic ice cream made from wattle seed, banana, mangosteen and loganberry; and feast on coral fish and blue crab, easily our best meal in Oz so far.

Cocooned in our princess bed, we fall asleep to the sounds of the forest, and wake to the sun streaking shafts of light on the tree canopy below. The Daintree is a very special place. We don’t want to leave.