Syrup, hot damper and sapotes: White and yellow corellas; black and red cockatoos

We are trying a new routine this trip — taking a day a week off from driving, and Cania Gorge was exactly the spot to pause for that. There were walks in every direction starting at the campground and lots of happy campers enjoying this mini-Carnarvon. A massive flock of corellas, our first sighting this trip, wheeled in the sky as we left the gorge on Monday morning, then settled, gracefully, on to three dead gums around a waterhole. So typically Australian, yet I missed photographing it. There were so many of them that they turned the gum tree white.

Motorhome and caravans are starting to appear and there were so many that they literally circled the perimeter of Biloela by lunch time, like a posse on a hunt. It must have been rather like this, historically, when the runs around here were carved up into selections: buyers would have been swooping in goodly numbers, biting their nails until their number was called.

As we drove on we saw that much of the land has been given over to a crop we haven’t seen before: a tall spindly bush with a cluster of pea pods on top, sometimes planted all over the paddock, at other times planted in rows: quite ugly when it is dried out, and not all that pretty when it is young and green. So, as is our want, we stopped and asked a farmer about it and discovered it is Leucaena, a fast growing legume used as feed for cattle.

Our informer was not a fan. It regrows when cut, and its pods fly everywhere, so it fast becomes an invasive weed if not properly cared for, he said. After that, we saw it everywhere: on sides of roads, deep in creek gullies. We even saw signs put up by others, disenchanted with it, who advertised that they had the right equipment to root it out of the ground forever. If you wanted it gone. There is no doubt, though, cattle appear to love eating it. But it is odd to watch them as they tend to want to stretch so high for the nutritious green bits that they look like giraffes arching long necks to wind their tongue around the tops of tallest, greenest, bushiest part. So the plant offers bonus neck exercise, too, though I wonder if that is a plus: if it makes that part of the beast more tender as a result.

Still, there are hills on all sides: lovely. This area we are now in is called the Central Highlands, the route, Australia’s Country Way. There is still that flush of green to the grasses as we drive further west and in parts the trees become more stunted and as the land starts to look a lot like South Africa I expect elephants to pop up from behind bushes and lions to peer over the grasses. But, no. There are sparse fields of healthy looking cattle only in these parts.

Then, around Dululu and the River Dee, birds. In a tall patch of trees lining the river we saw a small flock of stunning red-tailed black cockatoos, and the bright turquoise of a sacred kingfisher sitting on a dead branch near the river waiting for a fish to pop into its mouth. After coming to a screeching halt in the motorhome, we walked a long way back to get photographs, but missed them both.

The railway grass was glowing pink on the side of the road as we headed to our camping spot between the cemetery and the waterhole at Duaringa — a peaceful stopover for the night. Along with dozens of others. Campgrounds seem to have lost favour with many of the travelling public, and many local towns offer public amenities, encouraging their stay. This one is well favoured. Before supper we had time for a visit to the historical cemetery and many of the headstones were of settlers from early in the 1800s, the names repeated again and again as families stayed on in the region. Over to the waterhole, then, which was circled by a good stand of stringy bark trees, used by local indigenous folk to make their ropes and baskets. Sadly, the waterhole and the creeks around here, bear notices that the water is polluted: mine waste. So, it is not all roses.