#Yungaburra

[redrcs]

First Sighting. Spectacled Monarch.

Yungaburra. On my travels.

[einereiseblog]

Eine Kurzanleitung zum beliebten Curtain Fig Tree, Yungaburra, in der Region Far North Queensland Tablelands. Erkunden Sie dieses unglaubliche Naturwunder bei einem kurzen Boxenstopp in der Nähe der Crater Lakes. Der unglaubliche, 500 Jahre alte Curtain Fig Tree in Yungaburra ist einer der am meisten unterschätzten Boxenstopps auf jeder Reise in die Hochebenen. Der sehr kleine Curtain Fig National Park liegt nur wenige Kilometer von Yungaburra entfernt und ist wirklich ein verstecktes Juwel, das den meisten Besuchern unbekannt ist, aber eine stolze Ikone für die Einheimischen der Tablelands. Wo ist der Vorhangfeigenbaum? Sie finden diesen einzigartigen Feigenbaum im Curtain Fig National Park, nur 2 km westlich von Yungaburra am Gillies Highway. Achten Sie auf Schilder zu einer Abzweigung zur Fig Tree Road, wo Sie einen Parkplatz am Straßenrand in der Nähe der Promenade finden. Was Sie beim Besuch des Vorhangfeigenbaums erwartet Vom Parkplatz aus gibt es eine kurze 180 m lange Schleife und einen erhöhten Holzsteg, der zum unglaublichen Curtain Fig Tree führt. Der Holzsteg führt um den Baum herum, was bedeutet, dass Sie aus fast jedem Winkel einen guten Aussichtspunkt haben. Obwohl dieser Nationalpark sehr klein ist, scheint es, als würde man fast schon beim Betreten in eine prähistorische Juralandschaft versetzt. Die Geräusche tropischer Vögel hallen in einem weiten Amphitheater aus Dschungelranken und verdrehten Wurzeln wider. Dies ist wirklich ein magischer Ort, der einen Besuch auf einer Reise in die Tablelands wert ist. Dieser besondere Feigenbaum wurde aufgrund der 15 Meter hohen Luftwurzeln, die vom Blätterdach auf den Regenwaldboden herabfallen, Vorhangfeige genannt. Der Baum ist fast 50 Meter hoch und hat einen Umfang von 39 Metern. Vorgestellt in: 22 tolle Dinge, die man in den Atherton Tablelands unternehmen kann Wie alt ist die Vorhangfeige? Obwohl es schwer zu sagen ist, weisen die meisten Quellen darauf hin, dass der Curtain Fig Tree etwa 500 Jahre alt ist. Wie ist es entstanden? Direkt unter dem Baum befindet sich eine sehr informative Tafel, die den Vorgang besser erklärt, als ich es kann. Aber im Grunde wurde der Yungaburra Curtain Fig Tree gebildet, indem er in der Rinde eines bestehenden Baums keimte und Wurzeln im Boden wuchs. Einmal verwurzelt, wächst die Würgefeige schnell und tötet dabei den Wirtsbaum. Mehr Queensland Reiseführer und Blogs Hoffentlich war diese Kurzanleitung zum Besuch des berühmten Yungaburra Curtain Fig Tree in den unglaublichen Tablelands hilfreich. Für mehr Reiseinspiration und Reiseführer, wählen Sie aus der Liste unten. Alternativ können Sie auch mit diesem Leitfaden zu den besten Aktivitäten in Cairns oder diesem Leitfaden zum Besuch der besten Wasserfälle in Cairns und Umgebung beginnen. .

[snototter]

A Lumholtz's tree kangaroo (Dendrolagus lumholtzi) in Yungaburra, Queensland, Australia

by Gregory "Slobirdr" Smith

[furmity]

For all I had to be at my most responsible, competent, and organised to help my brother, spending a lot of time calling mechanics and discussing autoelectrics- we had a blast. We're great friends and hadn't seen each other in years.

He is out of the pit, and in a month we rendezvous with our sister (us three in the same place for the first time in three years!). Much progress was made.

We ate the finest, cheapest tropical fruits and cackled at the shaming of the guilty. We worked a few days on an organic sweet potato farm, visited a coffee plantation, and drank a bottle of mango wine. I *shudder* became accustomed to XXXX because the interstate folk don't know what's up.

I saw animals I've waited my whole life to see, amd marvelled at how all of Australia was once rainforest. We picked up a stray dog at the crater lakes and surrendered them to a vet. Alas, it was dry season and I didn't have the QLD green- treefrog- in- shower moment.

We mountain- goated across boulders, and I fulfilled my lifelong ambition of swinging from a jungle vine in aid of the goating. We had a driftwood fire on the Kaba beach and camped in a very eccentric tent belonging to our sister. One night I led a lost drunk girl who didn't have a phone through the dark mangroves back to camp... and when I went back to smoke a joint in there, the board walk vibrated ominously.

We inspected the pools at the top of Davies Creek Falls in the dark, and only realised the next day that they're 70m tall. We screeched to a halt for a frog crossing the road, and saw a platypus with uncanny ease at the platypus- viewing hide in Yungaburra.

I stood leaning on the rail of the Fitzroy Flyer and let the Coral Sea wind blow through me, up my nose and into my soul. That attempt to see some of Nyurrbing was ultimately a very expensive day on the beach in the rain (a cheerful one, though). We had silly cocktails on a tropical island from Foxy's.

A lucky sea- step penny I've had since Orkney in (er..?) 2016 mysteriously vanished, replaced by a 5c piece from the great Biboohra River. My rosary blessed by its waters, and my "home" solstice hallowing water my best offering.

I met Daintree bogans and greened out on their medical weed in Cape Tribulation. My brother was with me, and those guys were great, but I felt how easily something terrible could have happened. I thought I'd broken my nose.

I was sensible and didn't try the Queensland psyllocibins available in the caravan park's drug shop. Open 7-9pm daily and run by a metal head Bush Doof Jesus, it is frequented by Lenny the bandicoot (who was stolen then returned, seen crash- bandicooting in a cage on a skateboard!). I got a blow- by- blow account when my caravan- mate had a chocolate full of "penis envy" mushrooms.

I marvelled at being in Hippy Land, the way it was reflected in supermarkets and pharmacies. The Kuranda markets were a lot of fun. I saw plenty of irresponsible van- life animal husbandry, and was disappointed how strong white dreadlocks still are. I became disgusted by their fire twirling antics (kerosene on the beach of the Great Barrier Reef?!), beautiful as it was. Someone stole a plastic spoon which was holding our caravan window open, and you couldn't trust them around your dish detergent!

I read a trippy N.E. QLD magazine called Connect (it was the LGBTQIA+ edition and friends, I don't know how offended to be). Full of ads for white plastic shamans and barramundi animal messages.

I twice glued the boots which had been re- heeled before the trip. Their soles peeled the minute we got to Kaba Kada. What was once dappled grey is now dyed by the red, red Yidinji soil of the farm. They're treasured now (and at the cobbler).

I stitched tourist patches into the duffel bag which is slowly catching up to my old sticker- covered case that perished coming back from Aotaeroa. I was that tourist who bought a crocodile tooth, and dreamt with it under my pillow.

For my last night I painted my nails pink to watch Barbie in Australia's oldest operative cinema. We spoilt our dinner with popcorn and snakes, and saw one last waterfall.

I came home to Tarndanya and saw it anew... a changed woman (not that Barbie had anything to do with it).

[akamauorg]

Discovering Yungaburra Markets: A Hidden Gem in Atherton Tablelands

[skolwiggins]

The Yungaburra Avenue of Honour is a fitting tribute to our Veteran Community and its lakeside location offers many a place of reunion as well as silent reflection throughout the year.

[thenaturalfriends]

Un-paywalled under the cut.

Sam Campbell is killing it. Pacing the stage of a sold-out venue near London’s cavernous 02 Arena, the Queensland-born stand-up juggles the mic between his palms and begins to riff about an uncle who drank six coffees a day. “Coffee breath? He had TERRIBLE coffee breath,” he yells. “We went camping and he blew up my mattress. It was like sleeping on a TIRAMISU!”

The laughter has barely died out when he changes tack. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I recently lost my debit card ...”

The manic energy Campbell exudes on stage is dialled right down when we meet in his dressing room. Dressed in a jumper, black jeans and sneakers, the baby-faced 32-year-old with the mop of hair is self-effacing, shy even. He could be mistaken for one of the uni students who make up a sizable portion of his audience.

From the outset he makes it clear he doesn’t enjoy interviews and does his best to avoid them. Why? He mentions the remorse he’d feel if he said the “wrong” thing and a morbid fear of being asked questions about topics he knows nothing about. “I don’t know much about food or clothes or music,” he says from his end of the sofa. “I just get nervous I’ll be asked a question like, ‘What’s the capital of ... something that should be really obvious’.”

His discomfort appears genuine. Maybe, I suggest, interviews are just a necessary evil, an inevitable part of a performer’s life. “I don’t think they’re evil,” he shoots back. “It’s just not where I’m at. I’m doing this because my Australian manager, Craig, said you guys really want to do it.”

The 32-year-old has become a popular fixture on UK panel TV, and in the US is being courted by Netflix.

The 32-year-old has become a popular fixture on UK panel TV, and in the US is being courted by Netflix.CREDIT:RAPHAEL NEAL

He’s right about that. Campbell is that rare thing: a fast rising star whose story hasn’t been worn thin by endless retelling. He’s won the top awards at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival and the Edinburgh Festival Fringe and has become a familiar face on British TV since moving to London on a Global Talent visa in 2020.

When he was announced as a contestant on the UK edition of the comedy panel game Taskmaster in June last year, he was the least known member of a line-up that included comedian Julian Clary and Great British Bake Off host Sue Perkins. But Campbell, who wore an all-grey outfit for every appearance, soon emerged as the show’s breakout star. Deploying a guileless Aussie charm and a seductively offbeat way of looking at the world, he won the series to general acclaim.

Despite this, Samuel George Campbell’s Wikipedia page is notably light on detail. It fails to explain how a dreamy kid from the Atherton Tablelands conquered the twin capitals of comedy and became the kind of stand-up other stand-ups admire. There is no mention of his time studying animation at Queensland University of Technology – his live show makes extensive use of his homemade slides and animations – or his very first gig at Brisbane’s Sit Down Comedy Club in 2010.

In short, the man who is now being courted by Netflix and counts Jimmy Carr, one of the big beasts of UK comedy, as a close friend and mentor, is a little bit of a mystery.

‘I don’t think [interviews] are evil… I’m doing this ’cause my manager, Craig, said you guys really want to do it.’

Seeking to fill in some of those blanks, I ask him about his childhood. The slight figure at the other end of the sofa vibrates with discomfort. He grew up in a place called Bandicoot’s Pocket, he says after some prompting, somewhere between Atherton and Yungaburra. I couldn’t find it on Google, but he assures me it had a gas station and little else.

Family? He looks uncomfortable. “Aw, they’re pretty private guys. You might have to talk to them. But they want to stop fracking and they like folk festivals. My dad loves [former Greens leader] Bob Brown … He’s really interested in him.”

So, what was your childhood like? “Yeah. I wouldn’t say it was electric. I didn’t wear shoes until we moved nearer to Brisbane. Shoes just weren’t part of your life. I loved the rainforest.”

A nature lover, then?

“Yeah, you can say that. I used to walk around on a bunch of rocks near my house just thinking about things. That was my hobby. There were a lot of worlds I created back then that I still think about to get to sleep. You know how Charles Dickens would publish a bit of his novels each week in a newspaper? That’s how I go to sleep … just imagining those storylines in my head.”

He attended high school in Bundaberg. Recollections of a school trip to the city’s rum distillery quickly segue into a story about an upmarket Sydney health club and spa near Hyde Park once owned by Kerry Packer. “I love that place,” he says. “There’s a cold plunge pool and I said they should have a Bundaberg polar bear in the plunge pool. A fibreglass polar bear you could sit next to. But everyone was like, ‘Nah, this is a really classy place’.”

Did he acquire a taste for rum? “Oh no, I don’t drink. I mean I have drunk, but at the moment I’m trying to stay really focused. Modern life is too overwhelming for me, so I’m trying to be really sensible.”

Is he a vegetarian as some have suggested? “Yeah, but I don’t want to be seen as gloating. You need to be vegan to gloat.” Food, it turns out, is one of the topics he knows nothing about. But he’s interested in opening a restaurant because he’s fascinated by “lighting and design”. “I do have some ideas for a restaurant franchise. Have you seen [the hit 1990s sitcom] The Nanny? All the waitresses could be dressed as the Nanny and all the chefs would be dressed as Mr Sheffield.”

OK, then.

The way his mind ricochets between ideas and renders quotidian objects fantastical is a big part of his appeal. It has also led some to assume he’s neurodivergent, a suggestion he dealt with in The Trough, the show that won him the top prize at the 2018 Melbourne International Comedy Festival. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ve got autism,” he told his audience. “I don’t know, never been tested. Too busy reading the train timetable.”

His wandering mind isn’t always an asset when he performs live, he insists. “I was talking about lighthouse keepers recently and how people think they love their lighthouse, but really they love ships and want to keep ships safe. It was interesting, but not funny. I just get things stuck in my head and it feels good to get them out.”

I ask him if he feels vulnerable when he’s alone on stage. “No one can get to me,” he says with the exaggerated bravado he uses to get laughs. “If you made a bike from my skin, it would win the Tour de France.” Then he adds, “I don’t want people to read this and think they can get to me. I get confused a lot. But then, who isn’t? Maybe I need to hide it more? Maybe I should keep some of these cards closer to my chest?”

Possibly. I prefer the unfiltered Sam Campbell, the one who insists The Trough was performed in a “horrible little room” and was often “a total disaster”. The guy who pours scorn on comedy awards – “I find all that stuff a little bit creepy, if I’m honest” – and seems to revel in his screw-ups.

Recalling the Melbourne shows, for example, he says, “I was always getting in trouble for things. I had a knife in the show I didn’t tell them about. There was a plant in the audience – a feminist who wanted to cut my penis off – but I didn’t tell the safety manager about the knife and he called me a … Can I say this word?” He types it into his laptop and turns the screen in my direction. No, Sam. Best not.

His enthusiasm for pushing boundaries might explain his love of Rodney Rude, the blue Australian stand-up whose profanity-soaked routines made him a star for decades. Campbell and his tour manager have been listening to Rude’s routines on the road. “There’s some pretty dicey stuff in there, but he’s got an incredible flow,” says Campbell. “And he’s got some great lines like, ‘They should shoot the stork that brought you for carrying dope’.”

He also speaks admiringly about the Australian comedy duos Lano and Woodley and Los Trios Ringbarkus, but is less complimentary about stand-ups in his adopted home. “I don’t really like British comedians much,” he says. “Their acts, I mean. They’re not bad people. I just don’t know what’s going on …”

He’s also not enamoured of some of the Aussies he’s met in London. “I love Australia and Australians, but I don’t like the Australians who live in England. For some reason, I think they’re really perverse. They all hang out with other Australians and get up to no good.

“You know that thing people say, ‘Everyone loves Australians overseas’ … Don’t tell yourself that! You’ve got to be polite. You can’t just walk around thinking people love you.”

Sam Campbell in 2018, accepting his Barry Award for the most outstanding comedy act at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival.

Sam Campbell in 2018, accepting his Barry Award for the most outstanding comedy act at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival.CREDIT:PAUL JEFFERS

He has made friends, however. One of them is Carr, a certified British comedy superstar and host of panel shows such as 8 Out of 10 Cats. He has taken the young Australian under his wing by all accounts. “Jimmy’s become one of my closest friends – he’s sort of a mentor figure to me. We text most days. I’ll often go over to Primrose Hill [one of London’s most exclusive districts] where he lives. It’s just lunch, but it feels almost like a private masterclass. He’s talked about what to wear on stage and microphone technique. He does that for a lot of younger comics.”

The move to London was something of an accident, he insists – “I just followed the work” – and he doesn’t expect to stay long term. He’s been invited to appear at the giant Netflix is a Joke festival in Los Angeles this year, so an even bigger world seems his for the taking.

His friend Aaron Chen – another Australian comedian on the rise – already lives in New York, so it’s not completely unfamiliar territory. “Aaron was my protégé, but now I’m his protégé. He’s got an amazing constitution and a really low centre of gravity, so he cannot be toppled. I fall very easily, but I’d swap lives with him in a second.”

And if comedy doesn’t work out? Well, he has done other jobs. There was the time he planted trees outside the women’s jail in Brisbane and a short spell working for an electrician in Sydney. “He told me to go under the house to look for something. I remember being under the house for most of the day… I think he just didn’t want me around.”

On balance, it seems unlikely he’ll need a day job anytime soon. As well as the trip to LA, he’s been booked to appear on the ABC comedy Fisk. Extra dates have been added to Wobservations, his first UK tour, and he’ll bring his show Scallop-toucher to Sydney and Melbourne in April.

What’s left for the boy from Bandicoot’s Pocket? “I wouldn’t mind doing a big corporate gig for a prince or a sheikh or something,” he says. “I knew a guy who played the oud [a Middle Eastern lute] for Russell Crowe once. He was playing behind a screen and then they said, ‘We’re gonna pull back the screen’. It was Russell Crowe, Shane Warne and Eddie McGuire all dressed as kings eating a banquet. Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t mind doing something like that.”

New interview by Sam Campbell!

Read it here: Sam Campbell never gives interviews. Now, he’s finally relented.

[donyorkphotographer]

Ungas Ungas Ungas - Tableland Folk Featival - Yungaburra FNQ - Australia 2022 - #Australia #queensland #yungaburra #tablelandsfolkfestival #shoottheblues #aussiephotos #music #song #singer #australianmusic #band #bands #ungasungasungas #musician #musicians #livemusic #keepmusiclive #festival #travel #paradise #photographer #australianphotographer #dyphotography (at Yungaburra, Queensland) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkYho13BFwK/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[bradsbackpack]

Curtain Fig Tree National Park

Facebook Twitter Instagram YouTube Quick Facts The Curtain Fig Tree is a species of Stranger Fig. Curtain Fig Tree National Park protects a small area of an endangered type of forest, called the Mabi forest. Mabi is the local Aboriginal (Ngadjon) word for the Lumholtz’s Tree Kangaroo. Over 130 species of birds call this forest their home. Part of our trip across the tablelands involved…

[oceaniatropics]

Atherton Tablelands, Queensland, Australia

[johnoxleyq]

Mad dogs and Englishmen weather for swimming, yet plenty in at #lakeeacham #avenueofhonour #yungaburra (at Afghanistan Avenue of Honour Yungaburra) https://www.instagram.com/p/CYDlJHyPqrgwHViYh6NspLnPDABR9MNMRHhj1U0/?utm_medium=tumblr

[redrcs]

Another platypus sighting

(On my travels)

Bushwalking along Petersons Creek, Yungaburra

[einereiseblog]

Curtain Fig Tree Yungaburra, Hochlandregion

Curtain Fig Tree Yungaburra, Hochlandregion

Eine Kurzanleitung zum beliebten Curtain Fig Tree, Yungaburra, in der Region Far North Queensland Tablelands. Erkunden Sie dieses unglaubliche Naturwunder bei einem kurzen Boxenstopp in der Nähe der Crater Lakes. Der unglaubliche, 500 Jahre alte Curtain Fig Tree in Yungaburra ist einer der am meisten unterschätzten Boxenstopps auf jeder Reise in die Hochebenen. Der sehr kleine Curtain Fig…

[kingy1993]

A sunset over the table lands #atherton #sunset #tablelands #northqueensland #tropicalnorthqueensland #tropical #sun #australia #aussie #queensland #yungaburra (at Yungaburra, Queensland)

[novaeangliaphotography]

Curtain Fig Tree - heritage-listed

[mareekimberley-blog]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Maree Kimberley (@reekimberley)

#platypus in the wild at #yungaburra such a weird & beautiful creature #nature #naturelover