So, the next morning the three of us picked up our ride for the week- yet another Uber Carshare steal where they practically pay you to drive a randomer’s car- leaving our hostel pals, a.k.a absolute divas, behind us. Heading north, the road hugs the coastline with its endless stretches of beautiful empty beaches and palm trees on both sides. We passed Port Douglas, a tourist honeypot for being a tropical, laid-back beach town geared towards Great Barrier Reef excursions. We were lucky enough to stumble upon the Sunday market; colourful and lively with food, local produce, and handcraft stalls lining the paths. Behind them a picture-perfect wallpaper of blue sky, palm trees, and frangipani trees (my favourite!). You catch yourself letting out a defeated sigh for you have just been proved wrong- those ridiculously perfect scenes on Windows desktop do in fact exist.

As we made our way northwards towards Cape Tribulation, our base for the next few days, we were fortunate enough to come across our first cassowary and its family! First, just a sharp claw and long knobbly leg emerged from the vegetation on our right. Next, the beautifully layered black, shaggy coat and wiry neck that goes from pink to blue all the way up to a tiny head. The real showstopper, however, was the luminous turquoise flat horn atop its head, exuding an air of gravitas. This statement piece would take centre place in the shopwindow of the finest haberdashery in all of the bird world. The cassowary stepped curiously across the road, placing each claw with such careful precision it were as if each step had been pre-planned with immaculate accuracy. On the contrary, its two chicks trailed behind, stumbling haphazardly over their hilariously gangly legs and wobbly feet. We made sure to keep our distance as many locals had warned us of the cassowary’s highly aggressive tendencies, particularly males with their chicks. So much so, in fact, that cassowary attacks later became strong competition in ‘What would you rather?’ games, up against the likes of crocodile attacks and spider bites.

In the centre of the town were a collection of enormous weeping fig trees, draping their long branches down like old, withered icicles turned brown and brittle from age. The great old grandfather of trees and first sign of the prehistoric rainforest we were about to descend into. We pushed on, hopping aboard a shuttle ferry across the Daintree River, but not before having driven miles off route to catch a quick bout of signal in order to download our ferry tickets. As we hit the bank on the other side, we officially entered the Daintree Rainforest! Not just significant for being Sir David Attenborough’s favourite rainforest of course, but also for being the oldest rainforest in the world. It surpasses the Amazon by a meagre 75 million years- it’s whatever, I guess.

We were all in awe, driving along the winding roads shrouded by the thick, dark vegetation. The surrounding flora had a remarkable ability of successfully absorbing every single colour spectrum of light besides the deepest shades of greens and browns. Here lies the most biodiverse patch of plant life in the world, home to more than 3,000 different plant species, all living and working together in harmony. Stopping by Cow Bay for our first rainforest boardwalk trail, we began to get a feel for the rainforest and its highly complex social structure.  The trees are at the pinnacle of the food chain, having grown tall and strong thanks to their priority sunbathing spot up at the top of the canopy. They have remained the matriarchs and patriarchs of the forest for all these centuries, wrinkled and peeling but still oozing wisdom from their leaves. Below them, the youthful shrubs and plants begin their life from the ground, stretching and yawning as they look up at the distant hierarchy above. Clinging onto to the trunks of their grandmothers and grandfathers are the epiphytes; without their own root system these plants grow off the limbs of their elders, benefitting from the abundance of nutrients and sunlight and consequently, very reluctant to let go.  

We arrived later that evening at our hostel, Daintree Lodge, perfectly located within the trees and just a couple minutes stroll to the infamously stunning Cape Tribulation Beach. As it was after dark, we had to knock on a few random cabin doors to find someone with a key to our hut but eventually succeeded- thank God! A night sans accommodation in the eerie, ancient rainforest would have been quite the experience… We cooked a quick dinner in the outdoor kitchen, and I tentatively raised the topic of a 6+ hour hike the following day. I was originally met with hesitant curiosity, particularly after admitting the mountain in question was named Mt. Sorrow, and advised for “fit, experienced and well-prepared bushwalkers” . Yet, after a little convincing and considerable emphasis on how it is the hike to go on “if you are to do one in the area”, whatever that means, the deal was struck! Time to sleep before the big day ahead, and no thanks to the plethora of insect life that worked its absolute hardest to ensure quite the opposite.

The next morning, after some rapid breakfast and, unfortunately slightly less rapid, tuna sandwich making by a certain Antonio Torres we hit the one-way path up Mt. Sorrow. The first five minutes of the hike began delightfully with all round felicity amongst the group. However, this came to quite the halt at our first interaction with kind, pleasant, giant Golden Orb spider 1.0. Its web blocked the entire path, its body encompassing an area the size of your hand slap bang in the centre. We deliberated what to do. Move it with a stick? But surely there will just be heaps more to come? This cannot be a common route if this is the case, perhaps this is a sign? Ok no chill out, what about going underneath it? Impossible, it’s demon pincers would be 5cm deep into your shoulder in no time. Right, so do we all unanimously agree to head home and never look back? Rest assured reader, for two valiant brave Aussies came to the rescue, breezily moving the giant spider aside with impressive composure. Not even a tremble, a drip of sweat, nor even a sharp intake of breath. True Steve Irwins.

Having walked over three and a half hours, we calculated that we must turn back in the next half hour if we wanted to exit the rainforest before dark, which we all readily agreed we did. The perfect, pivotal moment arose soon after thanks to a wonderfully blossoming relationship between Camilla Whittle and the leach gods. It began rather sweetly; a few cute little leaches took a liking to Millie’s high arched feet and cheesy, sorry hilariously punny, socks. So, naturally, up they travelled towards her bare ankles where they decided they would rather like to stay and invite the rest of their friends to come join them. Who can blame them-the lines of the Asics logo practically begged them to take the path upwards and besides, it was love at first sight. So, unsurprisingly, join their friends did but even they were not alone. Flocked with them their neighbours, relatives, grandparents, even long-lost relatives and second cousins. Sweet quickly turned sour and the innocent summer fling became a full-blown leach ambush. As you can imagine, Millz was not having as much of a party as the leaches on her ankles and enough became enough. She began to bolt it down the mountain, giving those bouncy mountain goats a run for their money. Timed perfectly with Anton walking into the web of the largest, most terrible, giant Golden Orb Spider, his face just millimetres from the architect itself, I agreed perhaps it was time to turn back. A brief bow of surrendered respect to Mt. Sorrow and the Daintree Rainforest and we embarked on our journey home.

Having reached the bottom, we downed litres of water and plunged straight into the hostel pool. A quick, final gander along Cape Tribulation beach as Anton attempted to climb up palm trees for a fresh coconut, and we returned to cook up a delicious feast of pesto pasta followed by fresh coconut, I believe less excitingly found under a bush. The evening was spent in the candlelight reliving moments of the hike with utter disbelief at how far we had actually made it given the circumstances. We laughed at the hilariousness of what were at the time terribly horrifying and unpleasant moments, and how strongly our faces expressed these negative emotions. The wide eyes, sweaty forehead, not even the shadow of a smile. I have always thought this ability to relive an experience in such a comparatively positive way is one of the most wonderful parts of human nature. Although Millz might argue otherwise. After much amusement, we all collapsed into bed ready to sleep off the aching limbs and overwhelmed minds. To our dismay, the image of spiders and feeling of cobwebs on our bodies was not confined to the rainforest but instead invaded our dreams, to such an extent in fact that we all woke up on numerous occasions throughout the night thinking we had a Golden Orb spider in my bed!

The next morning was our final one of the trip and boy did we save the best activity for last. Having packed up our stuff we headed straight to the Daintree Rainforest Discovery Centre, the holy grail of rainforest biology and ecology, and I would go so far as to say David Attenborough’s heaven. I made sure to keep hold of the information booklet for I wanted no chance of missing anything should Anton or Millz decide that reading aloud the exact name, age, and biography of each and every plant was not necessary. We meandered along the rainforest treetop boardwalk, through the information centres, and up to the sky viewpoint looking out across the canopy. It was incredible and we learnt all about the hugely biodiverse landscape around us, along with its resident ancient cassowary. Eventually it was time to leave as Millz and I had a flight to catch back to Adelaide. We stopped off at a final few beaches, taking a picture of Millz at each and every one just in case it was her “final Aussie beach” (omg, heartbreak). Upon arriving at Cairns airport, we said our farewells and Anton headed off back to the city in preparation for his solo island retreat (highly recommend you ask him about this if you are looking for some amusement).