Toowoomba floods

I remember watching in horror as the first pictures of Toowoomba in full flood were shown on German News. I was half way round the world and it seemed impossible that a town on top of a mountain range could be so devastated by water. Surely that can only happen at the bottom of a mountain or on flat plain land? Who can forget seeing cars being washed own the brown rapids and houses picked up from their stumps like match box’s?

Less than three weeks later and having returned to our moldy but intact home, we decided to take an impromptu drive up into the mountain range to see for ourselves how a deluge of water could so devastate the “Garden City”. We have been hearing over and over that locals wanted people to return and support them by spending money so we took up the excuse for the road trip.



Checking out the Wyvenhoe Dam



After negotiating some roadblocks and detours we eventually wound or way through incredibly green countryside to the Wyvenhoe dam where the first signs of damage came apparent. The brown water now safely below the spillway had left tide lines we were to see so many times in the trees way over our heads!

Much of the road winding up the final stretch of mountain had been washed away with huge escarpments of hill dislodged over the bitumen. Still, as we arrived in the city itself on dusk there was little evidence of destruction and the town seemed void of distress.

We checked into a motel and ate a delicious meal at a very busy Thai restaurant recommended by the reception.



smelling the roses at the scented gardens



coffee at Angels

 Sunday morning broke clear yet windy and so we checked out and saunted up to the Angel Café for a coffee before heading into the main street for breakfast at the Oxygen café. Having satisfied our stomach’s we headed up to the scented gardens. Toowooba, near the top of the Great Dividing Range sits at around 700m above sea level, free from the humidity of Brisbane and substantially cooler. It hosts many parks and is famous for its rose gardens sprinkled throughout town.

The Scented Gardens is a park with open grassy stretches and picnic areas set amongst colorful garden beds filled with roses and other flowering plants I am to ignorant to be able to name but old enough to thoroughly appreciate! In one corner there is a Japanese Garden complete with pond and bridge. Surrounding the garden (and many of the others) are pretty cafes and eateries for those not taking advantage of the park facilities.


The Japanese Garden



Leaving, we drove by the railway where the first real signs of the flood in town were apparent. Its so hard to imagine watching a trickle of water running down the middle of the stream that not long ago the water was sucking trees, roofing iron and debris over the buildings around us leaving the reeds as a tide line way over our heads!

The nearby Myer building and Macdonalds had all gone under and We were amazed to see them trading as if nothing had happened whilst the coffee club and shops closer to the creek were still an absolute mess.


devastation like this everywhere!



Water was over this bridge!



After visiting more beautiful parks and taking in the aromas of the different varieties of beautiful flowers completed with bands setting up their equipment under the shade of the tree’s it was time to make our way out to Crows Nest and Holland’s winery. Robert, the owner was an amiable guy who was living out his retirement dream, creating wine from his block of paradise! He was also a collector of Arnott’s biscuit tins and didn’t mind a chat. Maybe that was because we were the first visitors he had seen in over two weeks but I had the feeling he was pretty keen to chew the ear off anyone who would listen about his wine! Two hours and half a dozen bottles of wine purchased later we headed out knowing we once again had to do some retracing as all the roads out were closed.



Robert and Eva and the collection of tins



This however, did give us the opportunity to stop for a late lunch at the Black Forest Clock tower for a late lunch. Again, set in the backdrop of a charming nursery, we appreciated both our savory waffles and ambience of the plants and late afternoon sun.

The drive down the mountain through Murphy’s and Postman Creek was where the damage was most apparent. As the creeks continued down the steep mountain side the tributaries combined into the destuctive tsunami, cutting a swathe of destruction first through Murphy’s Creek where houses were wiped out and the creek still had roofing iron and debris wrapped tightly around the trees and embankment’s, again with brown mud covering everything and showing a tide line that I couldn’t imagine even seeing it with my own eyes. I wondered if this is what the surface of the moon looked like.



Lunch in the gardden



As we dropped further down into the Lockyer Valley and Postman’s Creek, there were cars stacked on cars bent around huge gum trees and black butts. It was the place where nine people had lost their lives and there were concrete slabs beside pools where houses had once stood, now they were so bare that there was no longer any signs of a building at all!! Only around the bends in the rivers and wedged high above the creek bed were the twisted remnants of destroyed lives. It was eerie and I felt a bit embarrassed and almost guilty as we drove through the carnage around us.


Roses Roses Roses



Having cleared the foot of the mountain we bounced our way home, amazed at the sight of every creek bed for the next 120kms. Every one had been gouged out and all the trees and growth on the banks were bent and crumpled and covered in mud. Nothing appeared to have escaped the hand that forced itself over it. Roads were carried away with the bitumen pushed to one side exposing deep holes and gravel traps for the unwary.

By the time we returned home to the humidity by the water we were appreciative of our life here, in awe of mother nature, devistated for the people who have lost so much and amazed by the resiliance of the peoples and community in the face of so much adversity.