CAIRNS

The flight from Brisbane to Cairns on Qantas took 2 hours and 20 minutes and cost $309 for two. The drive would have taken more than 24 hours—figure three long days at the wheel. Like I said before, Australia is huge.

Cyclone Alfred had made landfall in the Brisbane suburbs, and there was extensive inland flooding and storm surge damage along the coast. We had escaped just in time.

Landing in Cairns—pronounced “Cans”—was like a breath of warm, muggy air. It felt and looked exactly like South Florida, but with jungle mountains as a breathtaking backdrop. It even had some of the same trees, like coconut palms and banyans (known as the Moreton Bay fig or Australian banyan). Temps were in the mid-90s, the humidity was brutal, and the afternoon sun was like a blowtorch—think Miami in July.

Australia has not dodged climate change. Their weather is horribly out of whack. Their summers are longer, hotter, and drier than ever. Storms are more intense and unpredictable (like Cyclone Alfred). The formerly lush Queensland landscape has become a parched, brown grassland that crackles in the hot summer wind, and wildfires are now a devastating seasonal reality.

We booked a ride in advance with Airport Transfer, using Exemplar Coaches & Limousines, for $26.74 for two. It only took about fifteen minutes to get to the Rydges Esplanade Hotel overlooking a tropical paradise.

Cairns is the biggest city on the northern end of the Queensland (East) coast. It has a population of 150,000. But it looks and feels pretty small. It’s long and narrow, basically one continuous line of attractive hotels, restaurants, and shops, standing stylishly along a swampy, unswimmable mangrove beach with a large marina on the south end and the airport on the north. The 2.5km Cairns Esplanade runs the length of the city center, overlooking the blue/brown Coral Sea. The Esplanade is packed with endless fun. There are children’s playgrounds, fitness equipment, a wide boardwalk, statues, monuments, picnic areas, tennis and volleyball courts, storyboards about science and culture, artillery pieces, bandstands, bus stops, and the kitchen sink.

The big attraction is the Cairns Lagoon, a 4,800 square meter, man-made, saltwater swimming pool next to the obligatory white Ferris wheel. Brisbane has one too. It’s a clever idea. You plop an ocean beach in your downtown, and it’s all free. Who needs the real thing?

On the block behind the beach, you will find a myriad of shops, like the Night Markets, Cairns Central, Oceana Walk, the Grafton Street boutiques, and many local markets, like Rusty’s Markets. Rusty’s has been operating from its Grafton Street location for more than 30 years, packing over 180 stalls into one city block.

Cairns is one of those chill beach towns with a split personality. During the day, it is relaxed and peaceful, downright sleepy. But when the sun goes down, the crazies descend.

Cairns has more good restaurants than I have ever seen for a town of its size. The waterfront is lined with fashionable eateries offering outstanding views and impressive cuisine. Once again, it totally reminded me of South Beach in Miami, but without the beautiful Art Deco.

The best eateries are located along a boardwalk at the edge of the harbor. There are about twelve in all, and most are double-deckers with expansive patios. Several are attached to hotels, and all of them were jam-packed. We snagged a table at one of the hotel restaurants and ordered the seafood carousel piled high with tasty delights fresh off the fishing boats that ply the waters of the Coral Sea. It was way more than we could handle.

As we were looking for an open table along the boardwalk, we stumbled upon a very unique dining experience. There were modest fishing vessels moored at the docks offering a specialty menu of local seafood. Each one had a single table in the stern, and the kitchen was amidship. They weren’t going out for a dinner cruise. They stayed tied to the dock. And they could only serve three or four small groups a night. They were taking waterfront dining to another level, and every ship was filled with happy patrons.

Along the Esplanade, the restaurant scene was markedly different. The party meter registered a solid eight. Almost every restaurant/bar featured a head-pounding live band, and the patrons were spinning out of control. We found it fairly loud and annoying. Maybe we’re just getting old, but we were relieved to get back to our sleepy hotel and go for a late-night swim in the pool before bed.

The sun is the summer regulator in Cairns. By ten o’clock in the morning, it’s too bloody hot and sticky to do anything other than kick back by the pool, read a good book, and find some air conditioning. It is a great place to take an afternoon siesta. Early morning and after sunset are when the people come out to play. Then it becomes a veritable walking and biking parade along the Esplanade. But from midday until dusk, the city is a ghost town.

The birds hold dominion over Cairns. They are everywhere, and the scorching heat just seems to crank them up. They never stop screaming, fighting, feeding, and getting into mischief. The city has a huge variety of gum trees loaded with sweet nectar, so there’s a lot of competition. At times, it felt like we were in the middle of a bird riot. As a lifelong birder, I was amazed at the colorful variety. Just in downtown Cairns, I noted the following, many of whose names will give you a hint at how much racket they make.

* Noisy miner

*Noisy pitta

*Rainbow Lorikeets (the loudest)

*Bush stone-curlew (cries all night)

*Honeyeater (squeaky toy)

*Koel (obnoxiously loud)

*White cockatoos (never stop begging)

*Masked lapwing (irritating sound)

*Bellbird (constant ringing)

*Red-billed gull (high-pitched screech)

*Australian magpie (incessant)

*Australian raven (always bitching)

*Laughing kookaburra (creepy, weird call)

*Lyrebird (can imitate anything, like a car alarm)

*Common myna (loves to talk)

There’s really only one reason to visit Cairns. It’s the gateway to the Great Barrier Reef, which feeds the local economy. They have a fleet of ships that motor out of the harbor each morning in a long line at 8 AM, and return at 5 PM, hauling the tourons out to the reef, which sits about an hour and a half north of town. Cairns would not exist without the reef.

And let me make something perfectly clear: you absolutely positively have to do a tour of the Great Barrier Reef. And if you don’t, I will never speak to you again.