Friday...3 August 2012

Took a trip into Cairns today.

Only 62kms, nice little drive......... with 13kms of sheer terror thrown in.
The road goes up and over the Great Dividing Range and is very winding for that 13kms.  I have gone on record in this blog before about travelling over hills with steep inclines and hairpin bends.  I guess I should be happy that this time we were not towing the caravan.
Himself loves the challenge of the drive, I think he treats it as his own personal go kart track.  I sit and try, usually (always!) unsuccessfully, to enjoy the view.
What happens in reality is me muttering a series of grunts and squeals interspersed with bouts of hysteria and sobbing and begging all and sundry for a quick death at the same time alternating with instructions to Himself on how to drive the car!. So far I have not disgraced myself by throwing up but today was touch and go for a while. The hairpins really play havoc with my broken balance mechanism making me seriously giddy.
How our big vehicle and a massive semi trailer can pass each other on that goat track is nothing less than a miracle and I am always astonished at the speeds of some of the smaller more nimble cars as they whizz around the continuous bends.
The sign at the beginning says: Winding road for next 13km. Eventually you come to another sign that says: Winding road ends in 3km. They must know that by then that I am ready to abandon ship and take my chances over the side just to get off those eternal everlasting hairpin bends! I know Himself would gladly help me open the door........if he could take his hands off the steering wheel long enough.

Arriving safe and sound on the other side we motored into Cairns and drove into the town centre. Once up and down the main drag and we gave it a miss and went back out to the nice little shopping area on the outskirts. Himself went to Bunnings which always puts him in a good mood and I wandered around the shops and got myself a much needed haircut. We ended with a stop at the Cheesecake shop and  a stroll around the local Dan Murphy's and then headed back to camp.

This meant we had to go up and over that blasted hill again.
Insert repeat of squealing, crying, etc
.....*#@k I was scared.