Things that make me nervous.
I'm a robust sort of individual. Not much troubles me.
But there are certainly some things that make feel a little bit sick inside.
Calls from unlisted telephone numbers. Turf wars between mommy bloggers. Anybody called Russ.
And, of course, tourism experiences describing themselves as 'authentic'.
That last one gives me images of gift shops stuffed full of imported trinkets, and museums staffed by sad-faced pensioners wearing period costume. Not to mention ghost tours, run by sad-faced pensioners wearing period costume.
The signs had begun about three hours south of Cairns - 'Visit Charters Towers, Australia's Most Authentic Country Town'. So I'd been feeling a bit queasy ever since Mission Beach.
But this never-ending drive was meant to be the search for the Real Australia. Surely, I'd find something in Charters Towers?
Or were the signs just another product of a Millennial marketing graduate?
In the 19th Century, any map of Australia was dotted with gold mining towns like Charters Towers.
Some, like Mathinna in Tasmania, are left with nothing more than a handful of shacks, and a population crippled by lead in the water supply, incest, or possibly both.
Others like Hill End near Bathurst are haunting reminders of mankind's folly. I'll be writing much more on Hill End soon.
Then there's Charters Towers, and yes, it offers ghost tours.
So I made the right turn off the Bruce Highway with a healthy degree of scepticism, and just a touch of optimism, because I'd seen another sign promising icy cold beer.
What a surprise.
The streetscape is glorious. If Australia has a better-preserved salute to the boundless optimism of the boom years, I'm yet to find it.
The jackals from the property development industry have obviously never come here dry-humping the local council - there's nothing to show that the town is just a hundred kilometres from some of the ghastly commercial developments near The Whitsundays.
Of course, most of the public buildings are way too big for their current purpose. That's part of the charm. I mean, what town doesn't need a Courthouse big enough for a city with five times the population?
If you're into history, then it's worth spending a few days sniffing around the place. I'm even prepared to give the 'Around Australia by Schooner Five Gold Stars award to a couple of the local businesses:
First, the Tokyo Bento Sushi Noodle Bar (don't worry, they have the typical Asian menu of 246,359 items, so it's not just sushi and noodles). You rarely get food of this standard outside the inner suburbs of a capital city.
But there are certainly some things that make feel a little bit sick inside.
Calls from unlisted telephone numbers. Turf wars between mommy bloggers. Anybody called Russ.
And, of course, tourism experiences describing themselves as 'authentic'.
That last one gives me images of gift shops stuffed full of imported trinkets, and museums staffed by sad-faced pensioners wearing period costume. Not to mention ghost tours, run by sad-faced pensioners wearing period costume.
The signs had begun about three hours south of Cairns - 'Visit Charters Towers, Australia's Most Authentic Country Town'. So I'd been feeling a bit queasy ever since Mission Beach.
But this never-ending drive was meant to be the search for the Real Australia. Surely, I'd find something in Charters Towers?
 |
| Charters Towers, circa 1904. Not much has changed, except the road is now sealed. And we didn't see any horses. |
Or were the signs just another product of a Millennial marketing graduate?
In the 19th Century, any map of Australia was dotted with gold mining towns like Charters Towers.
Some, like Mathinna in Tasmania, are left with nothing more than a handful of shacks, and a population crippled by lead in the water supply, incest, or possibly both.
Others like Hill End near Bathurst are haunting reminders of mankind's folly. I'll be writing much more on Hill End soon.
Then there's Charters Towers, and yes, it offers ghost tours.
So I made the right turn off the Bruce Highway with a healthy degree of scepticism, and just a touch of optimism, because I'd seen another sign promising icy cold beer.
What a surprise.
The streetscape is glorious. If Australia has a better-preserved salute to the boundless optimism of the boom years, I'm yet to find it.
The jackals from the property development industry have obviously never come here dry-humping the local council - there's nothing to show that the town is just a hundred kilometres from some of the ghastly commercial developments near The Whitsundays.
Of course, most of the public buildings are way too big for their current purpose. That's part of the charm. I mean, what town doesn't need a Courthouse big enough for a city with five times the population?
 |
| The Courthouse, circa 1886. It was extended in 1890, but today, remains largely intact. |
Less endearing are the local pubs.
There are many, many pubs in the town; most date from the boom years.
Now, rather than feed and water thirsty mining types, they make their money from pokies.
We spent a fruitless hour trying to find a pokie-free pub, before relenting and dropping in to the White Horse Tavern.
I suppose it was a nice enough place, if your tastes run to horse racing, Keno, re-runs of some rugby match, and daytime television, all running at the same time on full noise.
They didn't even stock Carlton Draught, instead selling the despicable Great Northern ($5.00 per schooner).
I suspect they also do live comedy. There was a sign claiming the counter meals were 'world famous'.
But don't judge Charters Towers on that alone.
There are many, many pubs in the town; most date from the boom years.
Now, rather than feed and water thirsty mining types, they make their money from pokies.
We spent a fruitless hour trying to find a pokie-free pub, before relenting and dropping in to the White Horse Tavern.
I suppose it was a nice enough place, if your tastes run to horse racing, Keno, re-runs of some rugby match, and daytime television, all running at the same time on full noise.
They didn't even stock Carlton Draught, instead selling the despicable Great Northern ($5.00 per schooner).
I suspect they also do live comedy. There was a sign claiming the counter meals were 'world famous'.
But don't judge Charters Towers on that alone.
If you're into history, then it's worth spending a few days sniffing around the place. I'm even prepared to give the 'Around Australia by Schooner Five Gold Stars award to a couple of the local businesses:
First, the Tokyo Bento Sushi Noodle Bar (don't worry, they have the typical Asian menu of 246,359 items, so it's not just sushi and noodles). You rarely get food of this standard outside the inner suburbs of a capital city.
And second, the Aussie Outback Oasis Cabin and Van Village.
Most caravan parks are horrid places - filled with Gonads and backpackers all crammed together so closely you can hear Brian farting in his Winnebago three sites down.
Not here. There's real serenity to be had. In fact it's the nicest caravan park we've stayed at.
And the climate of Charters Towers is perfect. It's dry, sunny, and 38 degrees most of the time.
Except when it rains, when the entire area can disappear under nine metres of flood waters.
Most caravan parks are horrid places - filled with Gonads and backpackers all crammed together so closely you can hear Brian farting in his Winnebago three sites down.
Not here. There's real serenity to be had. In fact it's the nicest caravan park we've stayed at.
And the climate of Charters Towers is perfect. It's dry, sunny, and 38 degrees most of the time.
Except when it rains, when the entire area can disappear under nine metres of flood waters.
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