On the road: The best office in Queensland

It's a cliche, sure, but there's some truth to it.

Many people may never be so lucky. They slog it out day after day, working themselves to the bone to provide for their families.

I, however, have been one of the lucky ones; spoilt in my daily grind, working from beautiful places, getting a peek into the lives of interesting people, and sharing it all with you.

I've been able to spend my adult life doing what I have wanted to do since I penned my first printed poem in the school newsletter in grade one. I do something I love.

For me, doing what I love means connection. It means writing. It means talking to and meeting new people nearly every day - whether it's on-farm, over the phone, or sitting in someone's dining room.

Every story, every heartbreak, every celebration, every plight, every campaign stays with me long after the paper has been stocked on shelves or the story has been immortalised online.

The unpredictable, rewarding nature of my career has been invaluable, and to share information, to share emotion, and to share the experiences of others has been a privilege during the last decade of my life; studying, interning, and working as a journalist.

It's a hell of a job. No two days are the same. I've written for magazines, reported on television, and written for daily newspapers, and now I have joined the helm for the North Queensland Register.

When I first came across this job, it seemed like the stars were aligning. I crossed my fingers.

Admittedly quite fresh to agricultural journalism, there was an appeal, a new challenge, and a new adventure. I am fresh meat within the Regi ranks after just two months under the ACM banner, but I have found a comfort within this role which makes me feel like I've been here for much longer.

Maybe it's the reminiscent tales that remind me of my childhood growing up across rural and coastal Queensland; fishing, pig hunting, camping, and sitting around campfires with country music.

Maybe it's the people I've met in North Queensland; friendly, good-humoured, easy-going and most importantly - kind. Nobody is as welcoming as country folk. At nearly every interview I've attended, I've been spoilt with warm hospitality and offered fresh fruit, delicious chocolate brownies, or cold drinks.

I've sat in buggies with graziers and toured their beautiful properties, chatting like friends - whether through the lush, green mountains at Eungella, rugged, ashen fields at Sarina or the sun-burnt plains at Charters Towers.

I have cut my teeth at cattle sales in Nebo, Sarina and Charters Towers, dusting off my boots and manoeuvring the sale yard catwalk to get the perfect shot.

I have had my jeans nibbled on by camera-loving calves, narrowly dodged dangerous snakes (and I don't mean politicians), and chased chooks and sheep across farms for the shot.

One of my darlings has been my semi-regular series, Pub Crawl, where I visit different pubs around North Queensland, sharing the histories, meeting the unique characters, and delving into the stories behind the towns' favourite watering holes.

We all have 'a pub' - the social hub of the town, where business deals are struck, memories are made (those we cherish and those we cannot remember - or would rather not), and relationships are formed. These pubs are more than just buildings with bar stools and beer - there is nostalgia etched into the bar tops and adornments, full of character, lining the rustic walls.

My local pub at Seaforth is an unassuming bowlsie - where marigolds bloom and the sound of waves crash across the moonlit street, through the throng of rustling mango trees. No matter where I go, it will now hold a special place in my heart. I met my partner there. It was also the place I met most of my community, who gather each weekend as an unwritten tradition at the club - rebuilt by its own patrons nearly 50 years ago.

Members vie for meat trays, cheer at screens while on the punt, croon along with the touring bands, or meet up with mates to blow off steam after a long week at work.

There are stalwarts of the community, now retired, who remain faithful to their local, sidling up for a frosty schooner at the same time each day. Some of our own bar flies include Taity, Paddy, Kev and Bob. Everyone knows them, and they each have their own spot at the bar. They sit sentry, a wealth of local knowledge and stories twinkling in their eyes; a part of the foundation of the club. I'm sure your own pub has its own.

I would be remiss not to mention my very handsome partner, Vaughan, who from the day he met me has supported me, encouraged me, and been a sounding board for my work. In his words, our region is driven by three things; cattle, cane and coal.

A true polymath, he has helped me source ideas and contacts, even volunteering as my driver one afternoon when we followed a police scanner off the beaten track while I wrote an article about the proposed Eungella dam in the passenger seat.

That story was a significant one - one of my first big days out on the job. I made the short trek to the tourist hot spot, stopping in at a local pub and service station to hear what the consensus about the dam was on the ground.

I saw sign after sign damning the dam as I weaved up the range. I stopped in at a cattle property with a 'Save Eungella' sign stretched across the front gate. Robert and Robyn Burns welcomed me into their home and told me about the plight of their community against the Queensland Hydro proposal. Their heartbreak was echoed by Save Eungella secretary and Crediton grazier Mandy Tennent. I was moved by their genuine love for their home.

While I work from home, I rarely feel alone. I'm flanked by towering banana trees - and perhaps the longest bell you've ever seen; seven-feet-three-inches long - on our back deck, watching the sun sink into the horizon as the cane train rolls across the pastures past lumbering cattle.

Every time I get out on the road, whether it's to banter with former State of Origin legend, councillor and grazier Marty Bella, wax lyrical with country music icon Graeme Connors, or drool over third-generation Italian pizza at Mount Jukes Family Farm - I feel blessed to have the best office in the state: North Queensland.