Trip to the tip

Cape York, at the top of Northern Queensland's Cape York Peninsula, is the most northern point on the Australian mainland. Australians affectionately refer to it as "The Tip".
The easiest way to get to Cape York is to fly from Cairns to the town of Bamaga, just south of the cape. But that's not nearly as exciting as travelling from Cooktown over some of the most challenging roads in the Australian outback.
The peninsula is steeped in history that's bound up in indigenous peoples, intrepid 19th-century explorers, the construction of a telegraph line of ambitious proportions, and subsequent colonial settlement.
Now this large tract of land is attracting increasing numbers of modern-day adventurers.
Ordinarily, it's about 850km from Cooktown to Bamaga, but by deviating off the Peninsula Development Rd on to sections of the Old Telegraph Track and other side roads in a dog-legged fashion, you can appreciate the raw reality of this awe-inspiring region.
Coastal rainforest fringes are in stark contrast to the expansive savanna hinterland - a flat to undulating countryside of woodland, tinder-dry grass and red dust. In "The Dry", between May and November, only 4WD vehicles can handle the roads up here. In "The Wet", there is no overland access.
Add in overnight stays at places like Lotus Bird Lodge (a bird sanctuary), Weipa (a bauxite mining centre on the Gulf of Carpentaria) and Bramwell Station (a large cattle spread), and you have all the ingredients for a fabulous modern-day journey of exploration.
Despite the general dryness of the peninsula, there are significant rivers, as well as billabongs and lagoons that are replenished in the wet season. Lotus Bird Lodge is situated beside one such lagoon in Lakefield National Park. Here water-fowl co-exist with ibis, kites, brolga (cranes) and jabiru (storks).
An open-sided dining/lounge complex and 14 chalets (no locks needed out here) are nestled beneath the welcome shade of eucalypt trees, and are elevated on poles to escape the high waters that invade the place during The Wet. Hosts Gary and Sue epitomise fair-dinkum Aussie hospitality.
Our chalet was inhabited by small frogs that insisted on jumping on our faces during the night. Our neighbours shared with a green tree snake that took some persuading to move out from under the toilet-bowl rim.
Bramwell Station accommodation was tiny-roomed buildings, much like shepherds' quarters, called "Dongas" (for demountable overnight guest accommodation). Unaccustomed to stifling heat and pigs that snuffle and forage at the door, most of us slept little. But that was more than compensated for by a glorious, ornithological dawn chorus.
Remaining cattle stations like Bramwell are invariably marginal operations. Because there's no articulated electricity north of Cooktown, good supplies of diesel are critical for stations and townships. On the face of it, these outback run-holders seem oblivious to the conditions that are so foreign to us - flies, heat, dust, snakes and feral pigs.
Actually, outback people are quite amazing. They possess a commonality: warm-heartedness and an easy disposition underpinned by strong self-reliance; qualities that overcome whatever nature has in store, whether it's no rain month after month, or floods that can overwhelm their land.
To experience outback attractions such as Lotus Bird Lodge and Bramwell Station is enlightening, exciting and enriching.
At only about 10 degrees latitude south, the town of Bamaga looks and feels more Asian than Australian. From here, the road degenerates into one of the roughest and tightest of the entire trip; it takes you to within several kilometres of the coast. A walking track through lovely tropical forest ends on a beautiful white sandy beach - complete with standard crocodile warning signs.
From the beach, you swing up and along easy bare rock for a few hundred metres, and then down to the water's edge and the signpost that informs you you're at the northernmost point of the Australian continent. It's ironic how much the easy walk to this unremarkable yet symbolic outcrop contrasts with the outback journey.
Now we're heading back, but via Thursday Island in Torres Strait, a 30km ferry trip north-west from the mainland.
Thursday Island, or "T.I." as it's known, is an oddity. Despite being only four square kilometres in area, and having no natural water supply, airstrip or deep harbour, it's the administrative centre for the northern region of the peninsula and for the Torres Strait Islands.
Before becoming the council centre, it was already an established pearling port. Since the introduction of plastic buttons in the 1950s, the commercial pearling industry has sharply declined.
Nevertheless, T.I. is a bustling place of 4000 people, many of whom are engaged in the public sector and tourism, and in the resurgent Torres Strait Islands' culture.
A visit to T.I.'s cemetery is a sobering experience. Here lie 700 Japanese pearl divers lured over in the late 19th century by the promise of big money and who, sadly, paid the ultimate price for executing one dive too many.
Nearby Horn Island is a 15-minute ferry ride from T.I. It's much larger and has a deep harbour, as well as a fresh-water supply that is piped undersea to T.I. It also has an airport, from which there's a regular service to Cairns. Cities like Cairns are one side of Australia. Where we travelled is quite clearly another fantastic face of our near-neighbour.