Daintree, Australia

Stepping out of the airport in Cairns felt a lot like New Orleans in June. We came to the wet tropics to explore the reef and the rainforest of north Queensland. After a night in a backpacker hostel, swapping information and tall tales with other travelers, we rented a car and drove north to Daintree Village. Trish and Andrew, the proprietors were away so Ellen and Sylvia looked after us at Red Mill House. Sylvia is delightful and generous with local information. Ellen is a marvel: a great cook and an accomplished potter who is able to name every bird and plant in the garden. She leads birding trips and has been known to build rock walls in the pouring rain.

Debi, Skylar's teacher and a birding enthusiast, would love this place! Did you know that the orange-footed scrub fowl doesn't sit on its eggs to incubate them? Instead, they bury their eggs in leaves and debris so that the rotting compost provides the heat.

On our first afternoon, we joined Scott's electric boat trip on the Daintree River to do a bit of croc spotting. One of these prehistoric creatures lounged with an open mouth on the bank, making us shudder, even from a safe distance. The crocodile warning signs disarm visitors unaccustomed to life among these reptiles. You can read one in our photo gallery. During the course of our boat ride, Scott turned our disgust for leeches into awe as he described the elegance of their "feeding" system: first insert an anticoagulant, feast and then insert a coagulant to finish the job and keep the buffet alive.

Speaking of dining, a yellow-spotted honeyeater dropped by during breakfast on the veranda as did an iridescent blue Ulysses butterfly. Breakfast was delicious, large and exotic here: fruit platter with mango, mangosteen, kiwi and rambutan, homemade bread, yogurt and muesli followed by a hot course of toast, poached eggs, mushrooms and tomatoes. We found that this generous brekkie is typical of B&B's in Australia. No need to eat again until dinner.

To pace ourselves, we have occasional "do-nothing" days in which we postpone any new adventures to catch up on email, schoolwork, journaling, photos and blogging. What good fortune that a torrential downpour showed up on a do-nothing day. It is obvious why this is called the RAINforest; at times we had to shout to hear each other over the noise of large drops on the roof. The skies cleared in time for the girls to ride horses on Wonga Beach. The heavy rains and the saltwater crocs prevent any resorts from taking hold here, so the girls trotted and Michelle enjoyed a canter on this deserted beach. We had difficulty leaving Daintree Village and Red Mill House as we'd become so comfortable there.
For more photos of Daintree, click here.