Zelma’s Trip

I woke up in Bernie got up and showered and sorted the inside of the van out in the vain hope that everything wouldn’t fly everywhere as soon as I started moving.  I also picked up the remaining cutlery from the floor which I hadn’t been able to see the previous night as it was dark!  I checked out and left for Wallaman falls which I had read about as being the highest single drop waterfall in Australia.

As I headed out into more amazing scenery I wondered if I had enough petrol.  I decided that I did but the rational part of my brain kept questioning the fact.  I carried on regardless and was greeted by lots of cows who seemed slightly oblivious to the fact that they were sitting across the road.  There were cattle grids and when you went over them you soon realised that they were there for a reason, i.e. the next section of road would be covered in cows and their deposits!  As I drove around one corner I came across a roadworks sign.  A word of warning, roadworks signs here really do mean roadworks.  Actually I encountered one the day before where there were more English roadworks, i.e. loads of cones everywhere but no actual work going on.  However this time the cones were -everywhere- and I had to learn very quickly just how big Bernie was and where his wheels were in a kind of campervan slalom type thing.  Anyway today, these roadworks were proper roadworks to the extent that the road became more of a sandpit.  At one point I was a bit confused as to where I was actually meant to drive as the road was ninety percent sand mounds, more like sand dunes actually.  The workers were very smiley and friendly. 

When I got passed the roadworks I soon arrived at the foot of a mountain.  There were signs saying that the road was steep and windy and not suitable for large vehicles.  I questioned whether Bernie constituted a large vehicle, quickly decided he didn’t and carried on.  After a couple of kilometres of crazy bends and my ears continually popping and unpopping (it really doesn’t take much now i.e. a couple of metres, – I think I may need to get that checked at some point) I met another roadwork sign.  This one was later followed by a sweet oldish man holding a stop go sign.  I asked how far the waterfall was and whether he thought I had enough petrol.  He answered, “a fair old way yet” and, “No” before helping me do a three-point turn on the mountain road.  So I headed back, past the guys at the roadworks, passed the cows and back to town where I got some petrol and lunch.

On the way back out to the waterfall I passed the guys at the roadworks again, who by now must have thought I was either very odd or seriously lost, and waved at the road work guy half way up the mountain.  As I carried on on the mountain roads I paused at a viewpoint.  The place was spectacular with the most amazing view down.  When I got back into Bernie I told myself that I must remember not to just drive into stupid places where I had to do comical manouvres and reversing to get out again.  After a sixty three point turn I carried on up the mountain until I got to an unsealed road.  Now technically you are not allowed to drive hired vehicles/ relocations on unsealed roads but I wasn’t going to miss the waterfall and besides, there were big lumps of concrete poking out of the sand so I thought that counted!  The road was a bit bumpy in places and Bernie rattled away like a trooper.  There were signs at the sides of the roads warning that there were cassowaries and that you were not to stop and feed them or get out of the car.  If you’ve seen a cassowary you’d know why this would be the last thing on any sane person’s mind.  The things are huge, almost like ostriches, and look, well, a bit evil to be honest. 

Anyway, so I carried on and eventually got to a gravel track with a sign for “Wallaman falls lookout”.  I drove up and got out of the van, having parked in a slightly less ridiculous spot this time.  When I got to the edge I was blown away.  I’ve seen a lot of waterfalls since I left the UK but most have been on split levels.  I was talking briefly to a man looking at the waterfall and he commented there were meant to be more beautiful waterfalls in another National Park.  My response was that that was not possible.  Honestly you should have seen it.  Everyone overuses the word awesome in Australia but this waterfall was what the word was made for.  It was positively HUGE, well 268 metres actually with a pool depth of 20 metres and 540 metres above sea level.  I really had never seen anything like it, the water was insane and the rising mist from the power of the water hitting the pool was immense.  I commmented to the man that
I was going to Angel Falls and he joked that I was doing a waterfall tour.   I’ve been to so many now that I started thinking that perhaps I am….well I can think of worse things to do!

After spending a very long time taking numerous pictures and just being in awe of the waterfall and its sheer power, I walked to another lookout place.  There was apparently a walk where you could go down to the base of the falls and I really wanted to do it.  When I got to the lookout point there was a sign about the walk with precautions.  It stated, “Never Walk Alone”, which didn’t put me off but, infact, just reminded me of Anfield and I got the song stuck in my head.  There were also numerous warnings about snakes and suggested treatments for snakebites.  All of these didn’t really put me off but three things did.  The first was a seriously fit looking man (by fit here I mean like Paula Radcliffe, like physically fit and not gorgeous like Christian Slater…mmmm) who looked knackered and was drenched in sweat having just finished the walk.  It got me thinking that their, “moderate level of fitness required”, may have been a strong kind of moderate.  The second thing which was a tad off-putting was the warning about making sure you completed the walk in the daylight.  It was 3pm at this point and I wasn’t entirely convinced about the whole walking over wet rocks ridden with snakes by myself in the dark thing.  The final warning which got me was about communications equipment and the unreliability of mobile phones.  I think they suggested satellite phones or something.  So, in a moment of sanity, as I was by myself and due to the above, my cost benefit analysis meant that I ended up going back to my van.

I drove down another road which, by my calculations, would take me to the base of the falls without having to fall over, twist my ankle and stand on a Taipan (an infamous Australian snake).  I got down the slightly bumpy road and saw a sign for a bridge stating that vehicles over 4 tonnes were not permitted to cross.  I contemplated whether Bernie was that much of a heifer, decided he wasn’t and promptly drove across.  When I got to the other end of the bridge there was a sign stating that there was no unauthorised vehicle access permitted which I thought was helpful, after you had crossed the bridge.  This meant that I had to reverse Bernie (not my strong point) across the small bridge, before doing another of my comedy manouvres the other side so that he was facing the right way!

When I got down the mountain I headed towards Cardwell which is further up the coast and opposite Hinchbrook Island.  The countryside didn’t get any less impressive with vast and spectacular scenery.  It differs slightly from the West in that there’s not as much sand and bush with more crops and mountains around.  The area I was driving through produces sugar and for ages I was wondering what all the tiny
train tracks were…..then I saw a sugarcane train.  They’re hilarious and lovely all at once.  About the same size as a train at a zoo or the things they use to transport luggage about at airports but very, very long.  I
saw one at a level crossing later in the day and felt very sorry for the seriously long line of cars waiting for the gazillionth carriage to pass them at about 3 miles per hour!

When I arrived in Cardwell I checked into Kookaburra holiday park, wandered into town and got dinner (a barramundi burger) .  I also spent a long time wandering around to find a pay phone which took incoming calls but with no success.  Well unless you call being chatted up by locals with few teeth and whistled at a successful occupation.  When I tried to make the bed in the van I realised that I was still completely inept and it took me some time again.  I went to sleep assuring myself that I would leave the bed as a bed the following day rather than having to do the whole table to bed conversion again!

I arrived in Airlie super early in the morning on the overnight bus.  As usual I managed to get little to no sleep.  As it was around 6AM I had 3 hours to kill until I could collect my campervan so got a taxi to the retail park near to the commercial centre where the collection was from.  After a good while I got another cab to the van place only to be greeted by the owner who appeared to have no idea about the relocation.  Thankfully he was a typical friendly Aussie soul and, having suggested I return in two hours so that he could get the paperwork, offered me a lift back to the shopping centre courtesy of his wife.  Back at the shopping centre I went online and generally faffed around again.  I was on talking terms with a number of the staff at this point and one security guard in particular shared my woes.  When I returned to the commercial area all was hunky dory and I picked up my beautiful campervan which, a short time later, became known as Bernie.  Bernie was a modest but surprisingly large campervan allegedly for two people although it had two double beds so it would have been very comfortable for two!

So Bernie and I started our journey.  The first thing I discovered was that Bernie took a lot longer to stop than I had thought.  I was following a very large lorry which stopped at the same junction I intended to.  Now call me hopeful here but I presumed that my stopping distance might be the same, or even shorter, than a lorry of about 20 metres and probably a similar tonnage but Oh no.  So my first stop in Bernie was a bit of a hasty one.  Then, as I went to pull out of the junction and round the corner I had my second incident.  When the Manager at the car place had given me the tour of the vehicle he had clearly not closed one of the cupboards properly and, as I turned, the entire cutlery tray flew out and smacked against the side of the vehicle.  You can probably imagine the sound of dropping a tray full of cutlery, now multiply that ten fold and add the fear factor of that sound when driving a newly rented vehicle.  After the split second where I thought I had been hit by a cluster bomb I burst into hysterical laughter which didn’t subside for some time.

I was instantly impressed with the countryside.  For some time I had travelled up the coast and, spectacular as the coast had been, I actually had a tear in my eye as I ventured further inland and saw the most amazing mountains.  The mountainscape was magnificant and different to those I had seen previously as all the surrounding land was miraculously flat. 

After a little while I arrived in the town of Bowen where I got out on a couple of occasions to admire and photograph the scenery and beaches.  I carried on with Bernie up the Bruce Highway past numerous creeks called pleasingly Australian names like kangaroo and billabong creek.  As I passed through Home Hill and Ayr I hit sugar country.  I passed a refinery which had the most amazing smell.  It was so like grape nuts it was untrue.  If you don’t know what grape nuts are then just imagine a kind of sugar mixed with molasses smell and also buy some as you have missed out on some great breakfasts!

After a fair old drive I decided to stop at the Billabong sanctuary seventeen kilometres South of Townsville.  I went in quite late as I only got to the place at around ten to four but they let
me in for half price.  It was great as I was practically the only person in there (there were four others I counted).  The way the place was set up was basically a sanctuary with large areas of free ranging animals.  I think largely as I was by myself I got to see some amazing things like a
turtle laying eggs next to the lake and a wallaby/ small kangaroo feeding her Joey.  Actually the latter was a bit worrying as she didn’t seem to appreciate me watching and tried to approach me in an aggressive way.  I thought I might get kicked in the face or something so retreated facing her.  The joey was copying her and following behind.  I also got harassed in the walk through rainforest aviary by some sort of curlew – I forget the name.  I was admiring his plummage and then he started pecking at my legs.  He then followed me everywhere and tried to look menacing before pecking me again.  I wouldn’t have minded but the sign said that he was meant to be timid and only come out at night.  Although it did say something about bizarre mating rituals so maybe that’s what that was all about.  There were also some nearly extinct Australian animals which I had never seen before which was pretty out of this World.  One was a kind of small rodent kangaroo thing and the other had the most beautiful spotted coat.  The koalas were lovely (I’ve developed a bit of a thing for koalas) and as for the wombats, I had no idea how big those guys were, or how comical looking.  There were quolls and pademelons which I don’t remember having seen previously.  The crocodiles were positively huge.  At one point I was looking around an enclosure for ages trying to spot one and then realised it was all of three inches away from my foot which made me jump out of my skin.  The crocs had satisfyingly crocodile type names like Caesar, Snappy Tom, Nipper and Psycho.  I liked the guidelines for the sanctuary too such as, “Objects, such as rocks and sticks, are not to be thrown or poked at crocodiles to provoke a reaction from the crocodile”.  If you saw the size of these beasts you would know why I thought the next warning slightly unnecessary, “Members of the Public are not to enter inside any crocodile enclosure”.  I loved my limited time there, the whole place just felt really special and I would wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone going anywhere near Townsville.

When I arrived in the town of Townsville (is that a truism? if not it should be!) I wasn’t overly excitied.  It looked like Airlie beach but bigger.  That may be a bit harsh of me as I literally drove though but the place did look a bit like another lagoonesque Airlie.  It did look kind of cool and you could see out to Magnetic Island which looked amazing across the sea. 

I decided to carry on further North and it started to get dark.  This led to some slightly unwelcome “duel” like situations with lorries worryingly close to the back of Bernie with their lights reflecting in my eyes from the rear view mirror.  The limit out of town here is one hundred kilometres per hour which may not sound very fast but when you’re in a campervan with a back which feels like a scorpion’s tail, horrendous side winds and things in the road to contend with like level crossings, it feels plenty fast enough without the lorry sat up your backside.  Whilst trying to concentrate and not fall asleep at the same time, my mind was drawn to the various road signs I had passed telling you helpful things like, “Don’t roll in your sleep”.  Actually I thought that one was relatively clever, particularly as I had been speaking to one girl on the bus who had managed to do just that which resulted in her boyfriend having glass growing out of his fingers to this day.

I decided to locate a campsite and phoned a place in Ingham called “Palm Tree” caravan park.  They kindly said that they would wait for me to arrive prior to closing reception for the night.  I did arrive as stated, eventually, as the entire town seemed to be one big diversion around a very small area of roadworks. 

After checking in and driving into my pitch I had the horrible thought that as soon as I opened the side door I would be showered in the cutlery which had so noisily flown across Bernie earlier.  I wasn’t showered in cutlery but the rather filthy ground below was.  I must have looked like such a doofus to all the regular, proper vanning types when Bernie emptied knives and forks all over the show.  I did my best to pick them up and then got into the van.  Once inside I realised how little attention I had been paying to the guy’s talk about the van and its contents.  I took the best part of ten minutes locating the electricity cable to hook Bernie up and then the best part of five actually connecting him.  The real trouble came, however, when I tried to make the bed.  Now, when I say “make the bed” I don’t mean put some base sheet on a mattress.  The table converted into a double bed with the two benches.  Well at least that’s what I had been told but could I see how the darn thing actually did it?  I spent a -very- long time trying every possible scenario I could think of from trying to push the table into the floor to lifting it out of the floor.  I even had the spotlight on my phone on the job trying to see which joints were welded and which could possibly be screwed etc, but to no avail.  In the end I decided to take a wander and saw two other youngish blokes.  I automatically assumed, being the age they were, that they were in a campervan.  Somehow this meant, in my mind, that they must be adept at such things as table to bed conversions.  Much to my delight, as otherwise I would have felt like a prize plum, they weren’t.  The two of them spent almost as much time cursing and scratching their heads as I did but eventually, when one of them had removed the table top I removed the pole and voila, a bed was formed.  After sorting the bed out I realised that Bernie had been particularly loud for a reason, all the top windows had been open!  Having sorted out Bernie, I had a shower and went to bed which was to be one of my best night’s sleep in a long time

Before I left Agnes Water the girl on reception booked a room for me in a hostel in Rockhampton.  The only problem with this is that I promptly forgot the name of the hostel and, by the point in time when I had realised this might be a valuable piece of information, her shift had finished.  Another member of staff suggested that it might be “Ascot hotel” so I hoped for the best.  When I arrived in Rockhampton I got a taxi to the hostel.  I had been told that I could collect the key from the bar downstairs but when the taxi dropped me off the bar was closed.  As I walked around the building I found a security guard who made a few phone  calls and was later able to let me into the hostel.  Prior to this point the taxi driver came and found me and told me that he was unable to leave a foreign woman in the area at this time of night due to the high crime rate which was, erm, nice.  So I eventually got into the hostel and knocked on the door of room ten as I had been instructed and there was no answer.  Fortunately two guys in the hostel said there were two free dorm beds in their room so I ended up staying in there.  See, this is why I don’t bother booking places!

The following day I went and got some food and when I got back to the hostel Robby, one of the workers, pointed out that a couple were sharing a taxi to the botanical gardens and zoo so I went with them.  The place was actually very cool and in a lovely spot.  It was free admission and the gardens were tranquil and beautiful.  Amongst other animals, which you see all over Australia in the wild (cynic…moi? surely not), there were koalas in the zoo which excited me as they were the first I had seen.  Koalas have always intrigued me and do even more now that I have learned that they are stoned all the time.  Seriously, it’s something to do with the eucalyptus they eat which has a completely dopey effect on them.  That’s the reason they always look smiley, rarely move far and sleep all the time.  It’s also apparently the reason that they often wee on people who pick them up at the “hold a koala” type places you can visit.  Now when you hold koalas you are given fetching aprons to wear.

Anyway, so I gawped at koalas and walked through nice gardens before going back to the hostel for the evening.  I actually really like the Ascot as it’s more like a house with a central television lounge which suited me down to the ground with all the olympics being on.  I sat and chatted to an English girl in the lounge, watched the olympics and headed to bed.

On the Monday I decided to head to the shopping centre which was a short walk from the hostel.  I bought essentials, like new replacement silver hoop earrings which I then lost (again) within about twelve hours and washing type stuff.  Back at the hostel I got talking to an Irish guy called Mickey (or Squidge!) and we were later joined by Lochie from Australia.  Lochie took us out to rent more Playstation games and, unfortunately, to purchase goon.  The evening was spent watching the olympics, playing Playstation and drinking too much goon.  One thing worth highlighting here is Sarah Claxton’s amazing achievement in qualyfying for the final of the hurdles.  I used to compete against her at school, although compete is perhaps not the right word as I never offered much competition.  When she was in the race we were only competing for second and third place to be fair.

On Tuesday I again looked into possible route options and decided that the best plan was to head North and then try to get a standby car from Cairns to Sydney.  I’m not sure if they have the same thing at home but you are able here to get cheap to free deals where you collect cars for hire companies and drop them off for the next rental.  I also ventured out to get a Hungry Jacks.  Actually that’s one of the odd differences here.  Basically Hungry Jacks is Burger King but when they set up the franchise here there was already someone using the “Burger King” name.  By the time that Hungy Jacks bought the Burger King name, everyone was used to it being called Hungry Jacks, didn’t go to Burger King and they ended up changing the name back, apparently.  Lockie took me to a nice park to eat the Hungry Jacks and also to Subway to buy the biggest Coke in the World which rocked.

In the evening I filled up on more olympic action before an early night.  It’s now Wednesday and I have booked a car which needs to be collected in Airlie beach and dropped off in Cairns.  Well when I say I’ve booked it, there’s no confirmation email as yet and I am unsure as to whether or not to book my bus there as, if it’s not booked, I don’t really want to end up staying in Airlie again and being roped into the obligatory hedonism on offer.  I guess I could always call them back eh?

Later in the evening I went back to the hostel and Lochie drove me around the town including to a lookout point where you could see right down over the town.  It was amazing with sparkly lights everywhere.  He then kindly took me to the place where I was to get yet another dreaded overnight bus.

I arrived in Agnes Water on the bus after an overnight trip from Airlie.  I actually managed to doze slightly but, as always, felt rough after the long journey.  We got out in the middle of nowhere but fortunately there was a friendly guy in a transfer minibus to take us to our various hostels.  I opted for “Cool bananas” and was very pleased I did.  The place was a chilled out little haven a short walk from a lovely beach.  I spent the day visiting the beach and looking around the ‘town’ which took all of three minutes.  What you don’t realise until you arrive is that the bus goes to Agnes Water which is close to, but not same place as, 1770.  For those who don’t know the place was called 1770 as this is when Captain Cook allegedly discovered it.  I say allegedly as, when we were out on the Whitsundays we were told not only that Captain Cook was not in fact a Captain, but that he clearly didn’t know what day it was as he found the Whitsunday islands on a Monday.  I guess I’m not the best critic here though as I seem unable to locate nearby shops let alone discover a whole island group!

After a relaxed day on the Thursday I embarked on more of the same the following day.  Well that and trying to figure out my plans for the rest of the time in Australia which left me somewhat perplexed.  After planning my whole route whilst sat on the beach I returned to the hostel to discover that none of the buses arrived anywhere useful or at helpful times of the day in order to pick a car up.  I decided that I would just head to Rockhampton and figure it out from there.  In the evening I headed out on the hostel transfer bus to a local bar where there was a table tennis competition.  I ended up coming second which was pretty impressive and the final game had never ending tie-breaks.  There were two people of Eastern descent (God that sounded awful) who asked if I played professionally and I don’t think they were actually joking either.  I nearly bricked it when the girl in my first game got up, was oriental and had that crazy grip thing going on.  Well I guess it’s something to fall back on if I can’t decided what to do on my return.  After the table tennis place we went to “the Tavern” which is the local pub in the town.  I got talking to two local guys, one of whom was a spitting image of Father Christmas.  I also met the guy from Airlie who had said that I had evil eyes out that evening and he turned out to firstly be staying at my hostel and secondly to be a really sound bloke.  He apologised and said that it was a random drunken comment so I let him off.  Although my paranoia about having dimples remains…….just kidding!

The following day I attempted to plan my trip again, went online and generally faffed around the hostel and town.  I also drank way too many ice drinks and went down to the beach.  In the evening I had the cooked meal at the hostel which included mash potato (mmmm) and then got the transfer bus to get the main bus to Rockhampton.

On the Tuesday I was lying in bed feeling slightly worse for wear when the cleaning ladies arrived.  By this point Nadine had checked out and a German couple had checked in for the day.  The cleaning ladies were distinctly unimpressed by the state of the room and the numerous beer bottles scattered everywhere.  The first lady (not the President’s wife the first cleaning lady) pointed to a pile of bottles and asked the poor German girl if they were hers when she had only just arrived.  After this she walked round saying, “filthy room”, and the like prior to calling another of her cleaner mates to show her just how disgusting it was!  Those pesky Australians…actually I don’t think it was their sole fault to be fair.  The whole situation would have been absolutely hilarious if I didn’t feel like death.

I spent the day around Airlie and the lagoon.  Perhaps the highlight of the day was Pete’s banana experiment.  Someone ate a banana (not Eric, the absence of name is due to the fact that I can’t remember who it was) and I asked if anyone had ever seen anyone slip on a banana skin, or indeed if this was even possible, unless of course you had been drawn.  Pete then decided that he should do a ‘Mythbusters’ on the subject and spent a good few minutes jumping on the skin and trying to slide but to no avail.  Eventually, however he did manage to slide on the banana skin and stacked it on the floor, and I got a lovely video of the whole thing.

In the evening Aisling and Aaron (two Irish people) checked into the room.  Katherine headed out with a friend and the rest of us hit the town.  People dwindled off for various reasons but it was another big and fun night in Airlie.  Well, that is, apart from one guy telling me that I had, “evil eyes” when I was outside a bar having a cigarette.  I was mightily put out by this, after all they are perhaps what I consider my best asset.  This was then not helped by his friend arriving and saying, “nah she’s okay, she’s cool, she has dimples”.  So then I was left there, more than slightly bemused, first trying to justify the fact that I didn’t have evil eyes and secondly the fact I don’t have dimples.  My roommates turned out to be really sound and the night was a good one.  Well, until we all got back to the room and there were some unwanted noises coming from one of the beds which prompted Pete to announce, “Hey guys, you do realise this is a share dorm”.  Okay, enough on that subject me thinks.

On Wednesday I was again in bed when the cleaners arrived but they were in better spirits, despite there again being numerous articles banned on the premises strewn around the floor.  Okay that sounded much worse than it was meant to, I’m referring to empty bottles here as alcohol was not permitted due to a lack of licence.  Andrew got me some much welcome muesli and banana and we headed down to the lagoon.  Later on I booked my ticket for the evil long bus journey out of Airlie to 1770.  I chilled out with Andrew, who I found out was called Dome by the other guys as he shaved his head at school and it was dome shaped (as opposed to cuboid or something obviously) until it was time to head down to the bus pick up point.

After a little while two of the cew arrived to take down our names and get us to sign a disclaimer lest we lose any limbs or destroy any vital organs, or they did, or the boat did, or something. We wandered to the boat and I chatted to two Emmas, one of whom turned out to be an absolute diamond who I spent much of the trip with. We got onboard and I was pleasantly surprised with both the size of the boat and the amenities. I was put in a room with Liam from Bristol and Thomas from Germany both of whom quickly became part of the group with Emma and I. This leaves just one of the fabulous five and fabulous is so the perfect prefix for Fabian, perhaps the coolest German guy in the World.

Once everyone was onboard and we had been introduced to the crew, our rooms and each other we set off out to the Whitsunday Islands for our docking point for the night. I’m not sure if it was down to the fact that the majority of the guests onboard were Irish, but the first night was a big one. The crew turned out to be brilliant and super friendly (especially with certain guests who shall remain nameless) and they started bonding games like the passing the snorkels and oranges along the line and the pick up the goon carton with your teeth games. Well, understandably, after all the above everyone livened up and got well and truly into it.

The following morning we were woken early and got smaller boats out to Whitehaven beach. When we got to shore we walked to a viewpoint which had an awesome view down over the beach and the island. On the beach itself we donned out stinger suits and went for a swim. The water was absolutely Baltic but was the best thing to sober you up/ clear a hangover and boy did I need it that morning. Fabian was on particularly good form and spent a great deal of time doing comedy things like taking insane numbers of photos of himself in comedy poses and being buried in sand. After a very scrappy game of football and an equally unimpressive game of cricket we headed back to the pick-up boats. Once back onboard food was well and truly welcome and, it has to be said, the food throughout was excellent. We set sail again and headed to another point where we went snorkelling. The snorkelling was really good with some amazing corals and some cool fish. One particular coral was a completely indescribeable blue.

Back onboard a hot shower was great as I had managed to get seriously cold to the extent that I had pins and needles in my hands. After dinner the games began again, well actually there weren’t "organised games" but several parties played drinking games and it was goon o’clock once more.

On the final morning onboard we were, again, woken early and took boats out to another snorkeling spot. Although this was supposed to be better than the place we snorkelled the previous day I actually preferred the first. There was more amazing coral though and there was also the great thing where the coral suddenly drops away so that you feel like you’re suddenly very high up.

After the snorkelling we headed back to Airlie and, somewhat begrudgingly, said goodbye to the crew and the boat before heading back to our respective hostels.  As I walked off of the boat I realised, much to my disgust, that I had sea legs.  I have never had this pre Ko Tao and I seriously hate it.  I checked into a dorm room in "Magnums" where one of Emma’s friends (Nadine) was staying, along with Katherine from England, two Australian guys (Manny and Andrew/ Dome) and Peter, an American guy traveling with the two Australians. Actually practically the whole boat seemed to be staying in some part of Magnums that night. I had a short nap and then headed out with the gang, after some pre-night goon, to meet the rest of the boat and the crew. We started in the ‘Phoenix’ bar before all the standard others along the strip. It was a great night with comedy happenings like being thrown over J-Jay from the crew’s back for putting ice down his shirt and the like.  I spent a little while talking to the Captain, who was super cool, and he suggested my sea legs would go if I drank rum as he did.  Did I mention he was wise as well as cool?  Well I did drink rum and it did work so now I know!  The only harsh thing, other than Thomas leaving on a bus of course, was Fabian apparently suffering a seriously evil fall and hurting his back. When I say apparently I was outside at the time smoking one of far too many cigarettes of the night.

The bus journey from Hervey Bay to Airlie was, as I expected, slightly traumatic.  Actually it wasn’t too bad but I didn’t really sleep.  At one point myself and Josh (a friendly very talkative soul on the bus) got off for a cigarette when it stopped.  The first driver had been very friendly and had no issue with us doing so but this driver seemed less than happy about the idea.  We were stood there and then the bus started driving off.  Initially we thought he was having a comedy moment, you know the one where you leave one of your friends, start driving off and then stop and go, “mwa ha”.  It turned out he wasn’t and he seriously laid into Josh who was infront of me.  We were well and truly told!

When we arrived in Airlie beach it was beautiful sunshine and really hot.  I checked into Beaches backpackers’ which is a partner hostel of the one I stayed at in Hervey Bay.  I was having a coke in the bar deciding whether or not to go and have a nap and got talking to a couple of guys from Estonia and a seriously drunk Kiwi guy whose Birthday it was.  They seemed to think that it would be rude for me not to join them so I obliged and the afternoon with a few games of pool quickly turned into a lot more pool, a few more drinks and a night out in one of the clubs in Airlie.

On Friday I went and booked my sailing trip and pottered, rather slowly in dark sunglasses, round the town.  I went down to the lagoon which was nice in a kind of, ‘our beach isn’t great so let’s dump loads of concrete here and make a better one’, way.  Actually that’s probably a bit harsh, the lagoon is nice really.  I spent much of the evening tryiny to upload photographs.  This used a lot of time and was amazingly unsuccessful so I eventually gave up and went to bed.

On Saturday I sorted myself out, packed my bag for the boat and checked in for the sailing.  The walk to the boat takes you around the headland and there were some great views out over town and the marina.  After a little while, and having stopped at the wrong point, I got to the cafe where we were to be met for our boat, the Atlantic Clipper, and waited patiently with the group.

I woke up at Beaches in Hervey Bay, faffed online for a while and then headed to a shopping centre near the long distance bus terminal.  I had actually meant to go to the shops near the bay but miraculously (I should so be used to this by now) got lost and ended up on a mammoth mission of a walk.  I did walk down part of the beach first actually, albeit part I didn’t mean to, and saw a guy cutting up fish and feeding it to a pelican.  As I walked towards him to take the obligatory photos and video a positively huge shadow passed overhead and another pelican arrived.  I eventually got to the out of town shopping area (having visited a few on the way).  I had a couple of things I needed to buy and ended up buying a few things I thought I needed but arguably didn’t. 

In the evening I chatted to a few people in the room and spent the evening in the bar with two Irish girls who were sharing my dorm.  After an early night I woke up and headed into town where I posted yet another parcel home, used t’internet, successfully avoided buying several handbags and had lunch.  I then headed back to the hostel which is where you find me now – so to speak.

I’m here until 8pm this evening when I get a lift to the long distance bus terminal to get an overnight bus to Airlie Beach.  I’ve really enjoyed my time here and have been pleased to see some of the bright birds around that I saw in the West.  Yesterday at the shopping centre I spent a good few minutes under a tree, gazing up, mouth aghast at the numerous pairs of lovebirds above me.  This was until a local pointed out I may not want to stand in the position for too long lest I receive something I had not wished for.  Actually he said it in a slightly more Australian way, i.e., “You’d better watch yourself there love or one of those little blighters’ll shit on yer head”. 

One night while I was having a cigarette outside my room with another girl I saw a strange silhouette running towards me a bit like a drunken cat.  As it got closer she said it was a possum.  It got so close that it actually sniffed my toe but I was reliably informed that they are friendly and not rabid.  Although arguably that may have been the case -before- a deep intake next to my feet!

I arrived at “Beaches” hostel in Hervey Bay and was pleasantly surprised.  I was informed when I checked in that I had to be in the bar area for 7AM the next morning to be given the run down for the trip out to Fraser Island.  I met two of the people who were going to Fraser Island in my dorm and both Katrina and Justin (both from Canada) made an instantly positive impression.

In the morning various alarms were going off and people were moving about but I was in a less than rapid mood.  I eventually got up and faffed about for a while.  Everyone else left and I decided I had time for a crafty fag and to put my make-up on.  So I was sat outside the room when Katrina arrived and said that she had been instructed to find me and inform me that if I wasn’t in the bar area in two minutes they would leave without me.  I asked that she didn’t report back that she found me sat outside the room smoking and doing my make-up and she went back to the group.  When I got to the bar area there was an overly enthusiastic woman trying to get everyone organised.  She gave us a list and said that we had two minutes to decide what alcohol we wanted before one member of the group went to the bottle shop.  We then had a similar task with the weekend shopping.  I ended up being one of two designated shoppers and the other nine in the group went off to watch a safety video and briefing.  Michael and I were responsible for the shopping which turned into a kind of value supermarket sweep.  I do think we did exceptionally well though.  The group mocked us as we bought nine loaves of bread but there was less than half a loaf left on our return. 

After the shop we met the group and loaded the four wheel drive which looked slightly crustier than those on the photos but still looked vaguely roadworthy, and more importantly island worthy.  Eventually we set off and headed for the port where we were to get the ferry over to the island.

Fraser Island is the largest sand island in the World and is renowned for its wildlife both on the island and in the sea surrounding the island.  There is very little in terms of development on the island with the majority of accommodation being relatively basic.

We arrived at the boat and made the crossing over to the island.  When we drove onto Fraser Island we started out in a kind of convoy of four by fours heading through sand tracks imbetween the trees.  We had a suggested itinery and obliged by following it to Eli Creek.  The Creek was beautiful and we waded back through the clear waters.  The next stop was “the pinnacles” which to be fair sucked in comparison to the real pinacles that I had visited.  This was allegedly columns of different coloured sands but neither matched the real pinnacles or the Isle of Wight for that matter.  It was, however, an extra place to stop off along the beach drive.  The final stop on the first day was a shipwreck which was half in the sea and on the shore.  It was a photographer’s heaven with interesting orifices and rusty structures with the sea lapping up behind.

When we got to camp we met Larry, one of the camp staff.  He was a real Aussie character and his name was so befitting.  Larry told us horror stories about how long it had taken some people to put up their tents so we were pleased when our efforts were relatively quick.

After setting up camp we asked Larry if there was anywhere else we could go to, or was that the other way round?  He suggested we head to Allom lake where you could see long-necked turtles (although there was later some debate about whether he had said long-necked or long legged).  I was driving which was actually a real pain as the track up to the lake was deep sand.  When asked, Larry had said that the vehicle was up to it but it depended on the driver as some parts were quite steep.  The soft sand was a bit of a nightmare in parts and it didn’t help having ten backseat drivers.  On a couple of occasions the van was clearly struggling to get up soft hills in second gear and as I was about to change to first one of the German girls shouted, “Gas”, which was most helpful I must say.  It was fine though, although I later realised that I had managed to drive one of the most difficult routes the first time I have ever driven a four wheel drive.  Not that I want to go on about how great I am (no honest) but I think there was a reason this particular route wasn’t on the suggested itinery!

Antyway, when we got to lake Allom there was a short walk to the lake and then we were greeted by the turtles.  They were very close to the side, probably as they thought they might be fed, and entertained us for a while.  After lake Allom we headed back to camp and started cooking our first meal which was a barbeque.  Well when I say we to be honest Justin did the whole thing and was getting quite into it.  The only problem with this is that we ate really early which meant that we were clock watching wondering if it was a suitable hour to go to bed.  Beer and goon drinking provided a useful bonding activity for the group and we headed down to the beach to watch the stars.  As there was so little light on the island the stars were absolutely amazing and there were plenty of shooting stars.  I also had some sparklers which provided great amusement on the beach.

The following morning we were up at six, had breakfast and left camp at around seven.  We had been told that, due to the tides, if we didn’t leave by six there would be no point as we would miss a lot waiting for tides and then may struggle getting back.  Leaving early did mean that we had a full day though.  We headed North and our first stop was Indian Head.  We climbed up to the top and had the most amazing view over the coast.  From Indian head you could see small sharks swimming as well as turtles, rays and whales in the distance.  At one point one of the rays leapt out of the water several times which was great.  From Indian head Diego drove and parked the van at a bit of a comedy angle on some soft sand.  We then walked the length of the beach to the “Champagne Pools”.  These were basically shallow pools in rocks where the waves crashed over creating a trickle of white foam down over the rocks, hence the name.  I was slightly less brave than others and paddled slightly (it was f-f-f-freeezing) and we chilled out on the sand.  When we got back to the van we had a lunch of sandwiches made on the bonnet then, just as we were packing up, a ranger type dude arrived and pointed to the no parking sign.  We pointed at the van and he conceded that it was stuck so we were okay.  It was possibly slightly fortunate he didn’t arrive when we were all tucking into our sandwiches.  When we got back into the van it was clear that we had not been lying as it was well and truly stuck.  We tried pushing it in various directions for a while but it didn’t budge.  I went on a mission to find planks of wood for extra grip but just as I got back to the van the guys managed to shift it.  We headed back to camp and bought essentials at the camp shop which ranged from chocolate for some to ice drinks and ice cream for me.  It was still majorly early and we considered going further North.  We had discussed this prior to coming back to camp but several of the group boringly pointed out a big, “do not cross this line” line marked on the map.  The woman in the shop unhelpfully told us there was not really anywhere to go before the tide played havoc and it became dark.  Unperturbed we stared at the map and I pointed out a “scenic drive” marked slightly further South.  In the end Katrina, Michael, Michael’s mate (whose name I really won’t be able to spell), Justin and I headed off.  When we got to the track Justin took over and it soon became apparent why it was not one of the suggested tracks.  Although it was mostly not sand there were divots the size of craters.  The ride in the back ranged from uncomfortble to traumatic to the extent that, at one point, we had to stop so that I could get a cup of wine from the roofrack to calm my nerves.  This proved a foolish idea as I then spent a good while avoiding tipping wine all over myself.  I actually did a really good job until a set of particularly bumpy tree roots.  At one point the road was so crazy that we all insisted on getting out.  Helpfully we all then took photos and videos of Justin negotiating the mad track.  I had my camera on the wrong setting and managed to record about two seconds of ‘truck going down hill’ prior to me saying on camera, “Oh I missed it, can you do it again”.  Perhaps the hairiest moment of the track was one particularly bumpy stretch when the van seriously nearly tipped over.  It wasn’t as worrying as it sounded as there were steep sand banks and the van would have fallen into one rather than straight onto its side.  It felt like it was very close to doing so though to the extent that I was trying to undo my seat belt to move over and balance the van.  Justin didn’t panic and motored on like a trooper bless him.  It was after that point that I needed the wine!  Perhaps the funniest part of the track was when the load became loose.  Although we had unpacked all the camping gear there was nowhere at camp to store food so we kept this on top of the van.  All the bumps had some affect and as I looked out the back window I saw a jay cloth waving at me.  As I watched it it slid out and blew off in the wind.  I found this hysterical and was crying laughing.  The group started asking what I was laughing at and I was like, “the j-j……….c…..it fl…..the”, unable to get my words out through tears and laughter.  It got even more amusing later as ominous liquids started dripping down the windscreen and various other windows, then coleslaw and the piece de resistance was chunks of breakfast cereal which landed on the windscreen wipers.  With this finale we were all in absolute stitches particularly when Justin put the windscreen wipers on to clear the window of cereal and foodstuffs.  This hilarity re-surfaced at various points such as when one of the gourp, who wasn’t on the trip, picked the cereal box up the following morning, turned it upside down and looked confused as four pieces of cereal landed on her plate.  We had thought it best not to explain to the frowny group members who didn’t attend that we had lost or destroyed a great amount of the food and nearly tipped the van over.

Despite our best attempts the van emerged unscathed and we headed back to camp.  A few members of the group went for a walk and I took the opportunity to have a (hot then very cold) shower and pack my things.  In the evening we made pasta and I was delighted when the care in the community Canadian turned up at the camp!  I was shattered and in bed by about half nine along with Katrina.  As in she went to bed early too, don’t go getting any odd ideas here!

The following morning we had to be up at half four to pack up camp prior to leaving before the pesky tides caused havoc again.  Yes you heard me right, half four…..and we were aswell…..and we managed to pack up so efficiently that we were on the beach way before sunrise.  People were keen to see the sunrise, especially the two guys from Holland.  I was less than keen to be honest and would have preferred the extra time in bed.  I held my tongue though but am now able to say that the sunrise was a bit poor and no way as good as the one I saw in Noosa. 

After watching the sunrise on the beach we headed to the first of four stops of the day.  The first three stops were picturesque and peaceful but had nothing on the final stop.  One thing which possibly is worth mentioning is that Michael managed to get seriously close to things on a number of occasions and, despite those of us sat on the left commenting on this, managed to wipe the wing mirror off on a tree.  A couple of the guys went and retrieved it and to his credit Michael took it apart and put it back together on the van. 

I drove one of the lake stretches and was amazed at how much easier it was to drive on tracks, however bumpy, when it wasn’t deep sand.  At the third stop, Central Station, half the group decided to walk to Lake McKensie.  This left me as the only driver so I drove the rest of the group to the lake.  They were shocked at how bumpy it was and commented that it was the most difficult track we had driven – if only they knew!

The last lake was Lake McKensie which is apprently ranked in the top ten lakes in the World.  If the employer for the role of “lake ranker” is reading can I just say, “Me, me, me”.  Alternatively I would consider ranking waterfalls, beaches, temples, mountains (actually can we make that hills, mountains are a bit high), rivers, mojitos, abs….okay enough now.  Where was I?  Oh yes, lake McKensie, well all I can say is that the ranker did a good job and I’d be interested where to find the other nine.  It was truly stunning with a white silica beach and luminous turquoise blue waters.  The weather had been amazing for our trip and it held out for Lake McKensie also.  Unfortunately someone had not told the lake what temperature its water should be but I guess you could describe it as cool and refreshing.  That or something with lots of expletives and possibly canine genitalia slipped in for good luck.  Okay that was not meant to sound as disgusting as it did.

Right, hu hum, so after swimming at Lake McKensie, having a rather rubbish lunch with what was left of the food and driving back to the port, we got the boat back to the mainland and Hervey Bay.  When we took the van back we were amazed that we had not lost any equipment.  They did, however, comment on the scratches on the bonnet which, “looked like someone had put cool boxes on it”, (us, never!!) and the fact that there were footprints all over it.  Initially they said they were going to charge us $50 to buff the bonnet which, in all fairness isn’t much split between eleven, but they let us off.

Back at Beaches I did my washing, joined a couple of the guys in the bar and had an early night.

I headed to Noosa on the bus from Surfers’ and checked into Dolphin Backpackers’ on Sunshine beach.  The place had a good feeling about it and the setup where I was staying had two dorms in a self-contained unit with a living and kitchen area and a balcony at the rear.  There was a group of eight English people traveling together who were really cool and friendly which made the place even more welcoming.  That evening I joined the group for some wine and card games.  The only exception to the friendly atmosphere was a group of confrontational Israelis and a very strange Canadian guy who was in my dorm.  The Israeli group were just outright rude to people in the group although this did provide a basis for comedy banter.  Stuart was particularly good at this and coined the best term of, “preemptive retaliation” which I decided to adopt for the future.  I’m not going to say too much about the Canadian guy as we later found out that he did actually have mental health problems (he booked a room for four people – presumably for the other three friends in his head) but he was -really- strange and not only said very inappropriate things but behaved very inappropriately in a shared room.  Okay, I think that’s enough on that subject.

On Thursday I went on a camera hunt.  I think I failed to mention previously that Surfers’ hated cameras.  Matt’s screen died on his digital camera and then, literally two days later, mine did the same.  He was able to identify when he may have squashed his but, somewhat annoyingly, the only time my camera could have been squished was when it was sat on one of the Irish girls’ beds as the next time I checked it the screen just had some crazy squished splodgy picture on.  So, I went into town with a couple of the guys and asked in various places about where I could get a camera.  I eventually ended up taking a bus ride quite a way out of town and found a bargain at Harvey Norman.  The camera was in the sale and was already reduced from $349 to $300.  I don’t know why, I think I may have had my Asian head on still, but when he told me the price I said, “I’m not paying that”.  The poor spotty eighteen year old assistant looked a bit worried but eventually agreed that, as it was the display model, he should let me have the camera for $260.  I slowly headed back to town via some amazing riverside and beach side places and got off the bus by sunshine beach near the hostel.  Having been back to the hostel and got changed into my bikini I went and sat on the beach and ventured nowhere near the freezing looking ocean.

In the evening I had some drinks with the group which quickly depleted to just Shorty (a guy who had been picked up in Brisbane who was from Scotland) and Lloyd as the rest of the group went to bed.  We drank goon and listened to music before several of the group emerged from their beds and suggested that we go down to the beach to watch the sunrise.  This sounded like a good idea partly probably due to the wine and also as I had suggested this the previous night.  The sunrise was absolutely amazing and I took some fantastic photos.  Actually I say I, but a lot of them have me in so technically I guess someone else took them!  Checking out that morning with no sleep and on the verge of inebriation moving into a hangover was less fun and after struggling to do so I crashed out on the sofa until it was time to get my bus to Hervey Bay.