The lady was middle aged, with neat gray hair and sensible shoes. Equipped with a map, pen and a plethora of brochures, she was clearly a woman used to dealing with hapless tourists.
She doled out advice as she outlined a suggested travel route on my disposable visitor's map. Like most of the Australians I'd run in to during my journey, she was direct and to the point.
"Don't go past overlook 11," she sagely advised. The particular spot in question was then duly circled on the map. "Here." She tapped the pencil against the paper, as if to underscore her point. "There's no petrol after this stop. It's very easy to break down and get stranded up there. You could get yourself in a bit of trouble if you don't have spare petrol."
She paused in her speech, and I took a moment to try and process this information. Okay, I told myself. No petrol, could get stranded. Two important points to keep in mind. Don't get stuck. Could get in to a 'bit' of trouble. Alllllrighty.
After I filed those tidbits of information away, the lady helpfully added another piece of rather vital information. "The road is very twisty, and gets especially bad after overlook 11. I don't recommend it for drivers who aren't used to mountain roads or are driving in large cars."
Another pause followed this statement. When she spoke again, it was if she was commenting on the weather or some other completely mundane aspect of life. "Oh. And there's quite a bit of bush out there. Not many people."
Point taken, lady.
I suppose I should have known that my day at Brisbane Forest Park was going to be quite the adventure when I first got there and stumbled across a sign that noted the presence of brown snakes in the area. There's nothing quite like reading a sign that bluntly states there's a possibility of getting a fatal snake bite while walking in the area. Not exactly the most comforting thing in the world to read.
Winding roads, fatal snake bites, no petrol and zero people aside, Brisbane Forest Park seemed like a relaxing place. From what I read, it was a breathtaking and vast tract of land that flanked the great city of Brisbane. Although only a short drive from the city limits, the forest was a national park, and an important one at that.
The drive from Ipswich to the Brisbane Forest Park itself was a nice one. The road skirts the edge of the city, taking you through an assortment of colorful suburbs. You eventually wind up on a mountain road, and begin a slow and stately climb towards the park entrance, which happens to be located in an idyllic and, appropriately enough, forested setting.
The entrance to the park is home to a parking lot, visitor's building and a series of walking trails. The visitor's building is well equipped with brochures, maps and sprightly middle aged ladies who are used to warning hapless tourists about the perils of Aussie travel. (No petrol, no people, lots of bush, lots of winding road ...)
Having quickly studied the visitor's map, I decided that I needed to go further in to the park. The visitor's center was nice and all, but walking trials advertising the evils of brown snakes were not quite my thing. I wanted something a little more scenic, and perhaps a little further from a parking lot. Plus, the twisting roads on the map looked oddly compelling, and I wanted to see what the scenic overlooks and 'expanses of subtropical rain forest' were all about.
And man, was I in for a surprise.