Week 3 in Australia - Hervey Bay and Beyond

At Hervey Bay

Tues. Sept. 27 – Chores and Chilling Out

Today was a downtime day, for the most part. The place was awash with kids as it was school holiday week and the place’s owners were looking after all of the neighbourhood’s energetic boys. I escaped this howling circus (it testifies to Meg’s ability to lose consciousness that she was able to nap through this) and went for a walk. There were many people strolling but no one swimming along the long, sandy beach. The tide was out, so folks were walking along the sandbars. It was a nice place to stroll and watch these tiny but feisty crabs threaten me with their claws before they quickly dug themselves back into the sand.

Later, back at the hostel, we got dinner together and waited for the special movie night to start in the common room. The movie was “The Castle”, an Australian comedy about a guy who saves his house from being demolished by a planned airport expansion. It was mildly humourous and the other people in the room were oblivious to it. We had to be ready to watch whales the next day, so we gladly headed off to bed.

Weds. – Watching Whales Exhale: A Tale

We had initially requested the morning “Whale Watch” trip but it was full so we settled for the afternoon one. The bus picked us up at our hostel a little before noon and then went on to about a dozen other places. This was the school holiday, so many a family brood got on the bus, with attitudes ranging from nice to seriously bratty. We had to wade through a crowded tourist plaza to get to our boat and then it was lining up for having our ticket processed and running to grab whatever seats we could. By the time we got on, there was only bench space along one side, but it was the side that the photographer was on so we hoped that boded well. We had about an hour to get out to where the whales were so we had a lackluster safety demo soon followed by an assembly line lunch. At this point I wasn’t thinking that the tour was up to much, as we had about 70 people on the boat with us, the food was mostly tasteless and on the way out we only spotted whales from a great distance.

Slappy whale.

As we got further out, we had nice views of sandy Fraser Island, whose coast we were following and the whales swam closer. We spotted a few mom and calf pairs that would surface and spout every few minutes, but none got close to the boat. The boat actually had enough space for everyone to have a look, but we had to keep scurrying around the deck to get to where the action was. The captain sounded like the teacher in old Charlie Brown cartoons and those able to decipher announcement led the group and others followed, cameras stuck out at all angles. At one point the captain lowered a microphone into the sea and we were able to hear the famous “whale-songs” over the loudspeakers. Unfortunately it wasn't the right season, so we only heard a snippet before it faded out. We spotted a few humpbacks (all our whales were humpbacks) closer to the boat and then came the highlight of the trip...A large male swam within 60 feet of the boat and stayed alongside us for at least 10 minutes, enough for everyone to get a video (see ours attached). He repeatedly thrashed his tail back and forth on the water. People speculated he was either scaring off sharks or asserting himself for other reasons, but it was mesmerising and well worth the trip.

We saw a few other whales, closer to the boat this time, and then had to head back to shore before sundown. On the way, some dolphins joined us and swam in front of the boat for awhile. We stopped on the way back because a young calf must have been learning to breach and was jumping out of the water repeatedly, being escorted by his/her mum. This was the only time we’d seen breaching on the trip. Alas, we ran out of time and really had to motor back, so the focus shifted from the sea to the sunset. The whole process of whale watching was interesting, as many ships were out and it was a game of radioing around to find out where the the whales were and then hoping that you could get your ship to where the action was before they went away.

Everyone enjoyed the sunset and then either put on their woolies, or retired to the inside cabin as it grew quite chilly out on the water without the sun's warmth. We got back just as it was getting dark and it was fully night by the time we ended the milk-run bus drop off. After an iffy start, the whale watching was definitely worth it. And it was a huge improvement over our previous experience in Cape Breton, Canada, which involved no whales and a kidney-crushing ride in a Zodiac. Back at the hostel, dinner was mellow and we compared travel notes with a Dutch and a German woman. We encountered quite a few of these folks travelling on their own, and noticed that they were unusually strong and well –informed about places. This was probably necessary for them to survive, dorm-hopping in hostels in strange countries.

Thurs. – Ferrying to Feral Fraser Island

“Created by over 800,000 years of drifting sands, Fraser Island is an ecological wonderland- World Heritage Listed site known as K'Gari, or paradise, by the local Aboriginal people...”(Lonely Planet)

Today was our big trip day, so we got up early and again took the milk-run bus. This bus was specially designed for 8- year-olds, with 2 people barely fitting across the 3-seat clusters. We got to the ferry dock and waited to board but this turned out to be unusually tricky, as it was wavy and windy and the flat-bottomed ferry kept getting tossed around. After 4 or 5 tries, it landed at a precarious angle, long enough for the foot passengers to sprint on board. After that, it went back out into the water and took another 20 minutes to land cleanly enough for the cars to hastily dock. It was grey and cold outside so we stayed in the cabin with everyone else and occasionally caught glimpses of the marmalade, aloof ship’s cat.

After we landed, the hordes separated into their groups. We had chosen the 2 day tour, which was lucky as our group was never larger than 14 people. We met our guide and driver, Shane, who immediately cracked so many jokes that we began to wonder about his sanity. He needed his wits about him, as 4WDs are essential for driving the island ,the largest one in the world based entirely on sand. The roads would have flummoxed our car within 5 minutes, as it was, seat-belts were essential to keep us from flying around the vehicle. The right of way on the island went to airplanes first, then buses, and finally then 4 x 4s. Shane drove quite quickly, as keeping up momentum was essential to avoid getting bogged in sand. He kept up a rolling commentary while we drove and seemed put off by none of us laughing too much, the only giggles coming from the group of Taiwanese girls every time we went over a big bump.

A view from Fraser Island's only rocky hill.

Our first stop was at “Central Station”, a name given by the loggers who developed the roads there and cut down a lot of the old growth before the island was protected in 1991. We passed through a campground with dingo cages to protect food, similar to our Canadian bear boxes. Shane had to pick up the luggage of three tourists who had joined our group, and so left us in the woods examining the trees for10 minutes. After his return, he talked about the trees in the area and headed to the clear stream nearby. The water appeared to be invisible over the sand and very little lived or grew in it, except for a cluster of impressive king ferns. We walked along “The Trail of No Return” (meaning we would only be met at the other end) with Meg proudly chosen to lead the group. I filled our water bottles with what was referred to as the cleanest water in the world. It tasted like water. The walk was short and sweet, through the lush rainforest with occasional glimpses of sand. Meg liked fiddling with palm fronds that we were told were used as canteens by the Aborigines.

Shane was there to meet us at the end as promised, and we headed to the “Eurong Beach Resort” for our buffet lunch. After that stop, he drove us to “75-Mile Beach”, which was aptly named as it was perfectly sandy for hours each way. The disturbing thing was that this was the main highway of Fraser Island, with SUV s, buses and trucks whizzing up and down it at 80 km/h. I suppose that our bus was part of the problem, but it took a lot of the exoticism out of the place.

We drove for more than an hour up the beach until we got to Indian Head. This was a rocky lookout where the locals spotted the Europeans from. It’s also the only rock on the island and the stable point that all the sand built up behind the thousands of years it took to form the place. There were some short concrete piers near the edge and apparently it was a $700 fine to cross them. Most people did anyway (but not us) and I didn’t see much ticketing going on. The views were great and a whale was spotted far out to sea. After clambering down from the viewpoint, we were supposed to see the “Champagne Pools” (tide pools with foamy bubbles) but the road was blocked by half a dozen stuck vehicles, so Shane figured that the bus would end up joining them, so we started to retrace our path.

Our skeletal shipwreck.  Note tourists keeping 3 metres back.

There were several stops on the way back. The first was at a mini-canyon, “The Pinnacles”, which was supposed to have the colours of the rainbow visible. The orange, red and yellow part of the spectrum was well represented, but the place was fairly anticlimactic and most people wandered in and out of it in five minutes. The next stop was at a shipwreck, “The Maheno”, which sounds cool but it was a cruise ship headed to a scrap yard in 1935 when a cyclone knocked it onto the beach. The army had used it for target practice, so you couldn’t tell what was weather, or weapon-damage to the thing. It was a big rusty skeleton with the bottom coated in a healthy layer of barnacles. Of course, everyone ignored the posted warnings to keep 3 metres away from it and climbed into the frame. The next stop was at “Eli Creek”, a shallow cold, freshwater creek where you could take a boardwalk up and walk back down through the creek, without getting your shorts wet if you stepped around the deep bits. Meg got into her swimsuit and did the thing properly, I merely walked it as the day didn’t really hold enough heat to dry off properly after. Lots of buses and people were around and many kids were playing in the water. All along the beach there were camping areas filled with tents, mainly filled with families enjoying the school holidays. The most popular activity on Fraser Island was fishing, with poles and lines being cast along most parts of our drive along the beach. Eli Creek was one of the few places along the coast where the water was deep enough for any swimming; as the ocean surf had undertow, rogue waves, and sharks aplenty, to discourage any swimmers.

Lucky for Meg, the sun finally came out, which made the creek much more desirable. This was our last stop, so we headed back to the resort and checked into our quad. We kept hoping that our quad-mates wouldn’t arrive, and we weren't disappointed. We paid less for a huge space, complete with kitchenette, than the people who opted for doubles, score! Meg got showered and we hung out in the room until dinner, covering the extra beds with our stuff simply because we could...

Dinner was a superior buffet with tasty pasta and a good Greek salad. The wine seemed pricy until we noticed that one red was $7 a glass but $13 a bottle. This was half of what they were charging at the store and was a decent wine. We sat with different people this meal, as we left the German speakers to their own table at lunch only to find that the Taiwanese girls didn’t have enough English to converse. Now we found that two women were Danish and had better English than German and the woman with them had excellent English as well. One was doing her law practicum in Sydney and the less fluent couple were the aunt and uncle of a girl studying education and phys ed at a local university. We had a good chat, particularly with the Danish women and their friend and got to bed later than we expected. Before we went to sleep, we took our flashlight and went out onto the beach hoping to see the local wild dingoes. We were told that if we saw one we should stand tall, cross our arms, shout and slowly back away. The entrance to the resort was guarded by an electric fence including lines going over metal railings on the road precisely to keep the dingoes we wanted to see, out. At the beach, all was dark except for the stars and the approaching headlights of a few SUV s We had a romantic stroll, no dingoes though, and then headed back to our room to snooze.

Friday- Luscious Lakes and Dynamic Dunes

We woke up early enough to go for a run on the beach before breakfast. It was amazing: we were barefoot running on sand which stretched on as far as the eye could see. We met a few people out for an early stroll/run but we all kept close to the water so that the 4 by 4 traffic couldn't mow us down. The sun was up and the waves were crashing next to us all the way down and back.

We returned to the resort for a quick breakfast, sitting by ourselves so as not to subject others to our smelly outfits. We then packed up and got on the bus for our first destination, Lake McKenzie. This “lake” was actually a giant rainwater puddle. It was breathtakingly blue (see photos), with a low pH that made skin and hair feel super soft, which it really did! Thankfully our guide showed us how to get to a less crowded part of the beach, as this was a stop for every single tour group on the island! We had a good long time because we were on the two-day trip, so Meg and I swam across it. It took about half an hour each way and took us far from the maddening crowds. The water was too cold for locals, but all the tourists swam in it. It was a little cool getting in but you got used to it almost immediately and then it felt really refreshing. The weather was also very hot and sunny so the swim was very welcome. The water was super clear, and one could see the bottom, which meant it was deceptively deep and you had to be cautious when diving. After resting a few minutes on the other side of the lake, we swam back and dried off on our beach.

Lake McKenzie, with wannabe mermaid.

The sandy march to Lake Wabby.

On the way back to the bus there was a picnic area where Shane had set up tea with muffins, cookies, and fruit, for us. We drove back to “75-Mile Beach” but stopped at the entry path for Lake Wabby. It is surrounded on 3 sides by a gum tree forest and the “fourth is a massive sand-blow which encroaches on the lake at the rate of 3 metres per year” (Lonely Planet). We were provided with 2 sandwiches and a juice box for lunch and then had a 2 km walk to the lake. This was well blazed and we were able to do it in our sandals.

It was a pleasant enough walk through the woods but was uneventful and we just chatted amongst ourselves. Just before the lake the path opened out onto an area of sand dunes that appeared to have come from the Sahara. The dunes were strange, as there was no middle vegetation. The trees just stopped at the edge of the sand. We had a short hike across the dunes, then they sloped down steeply to green Lake Wabby. The lake was stunning, with schools of catfish swimming close to shore. It was quite small but the heat from the sand made a swim delicious. We watched ducks and fish and sat at the edge of the lake enjoying the day. Some people had brought skim-boards and were tobogganing down the dunes into the water, which looked like a blast. Just before we left Meg and Shane started talking politics and kept it up without either taking a breath for the next hour.

We packed up and headed back to the bus, with everyone staying well back of Meg and Shane other than a German boy who seemed fascinated by hearing so much uninterrupted English. We saw a large lizard on the way back and someone spotted a snake up a tree, but we were safe. We headed back to the resort and said goodbye to our three tour mates that were taking a different bus home. We had a beer, relaxed, and got changed out of our swimming clothes. On the drive back we went over an overrated stretch of road called “the roller coaster” (you had to slow down so much before going over it, that it was no fun) and walked through the lobby of the only other resort on the Island, the luxurious “Kingfisher Bay Eco-lodge", before boarding the ferry. I stayed inside for most of the trip as we had spent so much of the day outdoors. Meg walked around the ferry but I didn’t sense that I missed much.

It was getting dark when we landed and we were concerned that the office of our hostel would be closed by the time we got back. No worries though, and they even switched us into a premium room at no extra cost, lucky us, again!

Sat – Cliquey Clients at Caloundra: Why the French Seem so Snobby

Travel day! We got up, organized and packed our stuff and got ready to leave. We had a good chat with the owner of the Woolshed Backpackers, Brent, who seemed to be a fine fellow. Along the way we stopped for lunch and were targetted by a couple of black and white birds (apparently as ubiquitous in Australia as seagulls, and equally attracted to people with food). Meg fed them some of her Rye-vita bread and they fought furiously over it. The rest of the trip was uneventful.

We arrived in Caloundra at a hostel that had been converted from a motel. The owner was of French background and the backpackers seemed to know this as it was the only place we stayed with a real presence of French people. We checked into our room, which was an en-suite with a TV, true luxury. I later walked the beach which had a strong current and no one swimming. The tide was out and people were walking on the sandbars and through shallow water to a sandy island that lay parallel to the town beach.

Swimming off a sand dune at Lake Wabby.

That night we went down to participate in the free BBQ that they had every Saturday. The owner remembered that Meg didn’t eat red meat and had thoughtfully picked up turkey burgers and chicken sausages. People were gathered out there and we spoke to some Germans who were working the strawberry fields and getting paid by the kilo. The French people were mostly working and staying in the hostel long- term and so weren’t super chatty with newcomers. A pair of Brits sat in lawn chairs apart from everyone else, and an elderly Australian woman who was wandering around, complaining. There was plentiful food at the BBQ, with tzatziki and grilled veggies to put on your meat. We spoke to the owner as he was grilling, and learned that he was educated in California and emigrated here with his family, alternating managing the hostel and indulging in his passion for surfing. He was giving surfing lessons to hostellers the next day and organized activities and jobs for them all week, nice guy. We asked him why the French people at the hostel seemed more reluctant to speak with us than the Germans (until I spoke French to them). Being French but bilingual, he observed that that their English is weaker as their TV is all in french or dubbed, whereas the Germans get a lot of original English programming with German subtitles. Seems reasonable, and we even noticed this disparity in language later in our travels (when I had to do a lot of translation for our French companions in Darwin). We ate, had a beer, gave up attempting to socialize with people and went back to our room. We were braced for sleeplessness as Saturday nights in hostels can be loud, but the workers worked seven days a week and started early so things quieted down nicely. We watched some Mythbusters and a fun music quiz show, RockQuiz before going to sleep.

Australia - Week 2

In reality, we're in Nanjing and will be until Christmas.  Meg has almost fully recovered from the pneumonia she contracted in the Philippines and our friends Linda and Lew are looking after us well.  Currently we are looking at volunteering in Cambodia in the near future.  Happy holidays and with patience, our blog will one day catch up with us!

Curry Pies and Kangaroo Corpses

Saturday Sept. 17 –as an unexciting transit day. We got up early, making no effort to be quiet after the loud night before. We finished packing and got our literature together for our next few side trips. We walked downtown to pick up our rental car, giving us lots more paperwork to do. The woman there was very nice and let us use a GPS for no charge(way to go Europecar)! We then drove to a mall outside of town so Meg could get her cellphone unlocked, but they couldn’t do it. Off we went on the road, delighted to be driving a Hyundai compact rather than a big old camper van.

We drove until lunch in Innisfail, which is the art deco capital of Australia. There were lots of art deco buildings, but none open. Apparently places closed at 1 pm on Saturday and stayed that way until Monday morning in small-town Australia. After a long walk we found a bakery that had a pasty curry pie to eat. We then hit the local supermarket as we were worried that everything might be closed by the time we hit Townsville.

On the way to Townsville we saw our first kangaroo, quite dead by the side of the road. There was a corpse about every 10 km along the highway, similar to skunks and porcupines back home. Meg took her first turn driving on the left side of the road and, being a lefty herself, did quite a good job of it. A lot less harrowing than my first shift.

The good news: we reached Townsville on time, the bad news: we had a crack on the windshield (that was lengthening at an alarming rate). Our hostel was unusual, as you had to get through a super-secure door after being stared at by the not-too-friendly guy at the desk. The inside was inspired architecture, with sofa-hammocks and suspended benches scattered everywhere and rooms at several different levels. We cooked up a fine dinner and ate it in the TV area watching Big with some friendly backpackers. Occasional shouts and cheers could be heard from bars downtown and we found out afterward it was because Ireland had defeated Australia in the Rugby World Cup, quite an upset! We phoned the rental and insurance people about what to do about the car, watched some rugby on TV and went to sleep. The fan wasn’t needed, but it blocked outside noise nicely. Meg still said she heard some party girls throwing up at 2 in the morning, but I slept through it all, blissfully unaware.

Sunday – Our Hitchhiker and his Homeless Employer

We got up, had breakfast, and got packed, the usual. We had seen nothing of Townsville and so had no real opinion of it. We did have free internet to burn off, so I was on a machine and spoke to the guy next to me, who also was going to Airlie Beach. He seemed like a decent fellow and so we let him use what little space we had in our back seat. It meant he had to come with us as we switched cars at the airport, which took a long time and much paperwork. We ended up with a slightly larger vehicle, which meant he now had more space back there. His name was Matt and he was from England and was making his way across the country. He told us stories of taking weird jobs like helping a homeless guy move stuff around a warehouse overnight so that he could impress his boss with how much he got done in the morning. He also worked helping people clear their land from a recent cyclone that had caused a lot of damage. He explained that the weird chains of baskets and train tracks set just one foot apart were special trains for the sugar cane farmers. He had stories about how picky the receptionist at the hostel was with anyone who even came close to breaking any rules.

We stopped for lunch in a little town in the middle of nowhere and Meg took sleeping duties while Matt navigated us in to Airlie Beach, our gateway to the celebrated Whitsunday Islands. We found our hostel (Airlie Waterfront Backpackers) and Meg got us a less fancy room and celebrated the money she saved. Matt ended up staying at our place for one night but found it was too chilled for his liking and moved on to the party palace. The place had good security, nice views of the beach from the rooftop and a big kitchen. They had trouble with theft so you had to leave a deposit to get pots and dishes. Our room had no windows except for glass shutters that led to the hallway and let in fluorescent light all night, you definitely wanted to spend your time on the outside deck.

We took a stroll around town and found that the main beach consisted of mud flats and everyone swam at the lagoon, so we tried it. It had a larger deep end than Cairns with a bridge you could swim under and more beach sand around it, but was still basically a big pool made to look natural. Not bad for cooling off, though. We had a fine dinner in the kitchen and met a lawyer from Toronto, who was covering many of the same highlights as us. She also had a work program that gave her several months of vacation and she was able to tell us about China. She had thought we were American and we thought she was, which was funny when we both ended up apologising in typical Canadian fashion...

Sailing with the Spanish, the Swiss, and Sundry ...

Monday – Did I mention that things slowed down a lot for us in Australia? Well, they did. We took it easy and researched our sailing trip. Back at the room we had dinner, enjoyed the view and then typed and read until bedtime.

Tuesday - This was our big sailing day!We left everything in the car which was parked underneath the Backpackers and headed off to the dock. We popped our Gravol well in advance as sea sickness was not to going to ruin this trip! Our sailing mates were waiting by the dock and they were quite international: a Spanish couple, three British guys, three Swiss guys, and two single women, British and Japanese. Our captain was Toby, and Nat was our cook and first mate, both very young but quite competent. They confiscated our shoes and went over the basic rules of the boat. The plan was to sail right until sunset so that we were close to all of the next day’s attractions. So sail we did, if you call it that when you’re powered solely by the engine. We mainly lay over the bow of the yacht and watched islands and beaches go by past the impossibly blue water

Chatting with folks, we found out that the Japanese woman, Juriko, had worked 10 hour days picking tomatoes on a farm and needed help with any instructions given in English. The British guys had done a lot of travelling in the opposite direction from us and so had lots of info about places we wanted to see. The Spanish couple were cool and laid back and were only prevented from being the oldest on the boat by us. The British woman (Emma) was outgoing and easy to talk to. The Swiss guys were the closest we had to party lads but even they went to bed by 10:30 so we lucked into the right boat! There was a spa/whirlpool thingy in the hull of the boat that maybe 4 people could squeeze into but the water was tepid and thus not too popular. Once we were docked the bar was open and no glass was allowed on board so it was boxed wine and canned beer. We were pretty happy with our box of Shiraz and it more than did us. Dinner was lasagna and salad and after the sun went down Toby went over our route and gave a quick course on reef wildlife.

We were docked in an area with many other ships but couldn’t hear anything, possibly because the music on our boat went continuously during our trip. The ship had underwater blue lights that attracted plankton which in turn attracted larger fish, so we watched them while we quaffed tea and cake. By that point it was about bedtime and we were rocked to sleep by the waves in the bay.

Weds. We woke up at day break as there was no curtain for our window and our room was right under a part of the deck that the crew needed to traverse on a regular basis. On top of that we clearly heard the water pump whenever anyone used the bathroom or kitchen, so it was pretty hard to snooze if others were up and active. They put out a nice breakfast of cereal, fruit and yoghurt and gradually we all livened up. We got going with a quick ride over to the bay close to the path to see the famous White Beach. Much fuss had been made about a National Geographic list which placed this beach as #3 in the world (I think the others were in Fiji and Mexico).

Proof that we were there - the famous whitsunday viewpoint.

We went to the rocky landing beach and waited there for a while with all of the other tourists on Whitsunday trips. The beach had a great variety of coral remnants which made for fun sifting but was no place for bare feet.

We got organized and took about a 15 minute walk through woods to get to the Whitehaven Beach lookout. Several other boat groups were also there, so we were all jostling to get photos taken from the optimum lookout viewpoints. Whitehaven Beach was a long swirl of pure white in contrast to the sea which was all shades of blue. It really did look like a postcard. We were warned that the near pure silica sand could scratch camera lenses and gum up electronics but was apparently great for cleaning jewelry or exfoliating. Also, it would squeak if you walked on it a certain way. Everyone took the short walk down to the beach, with sand that was purest white and soft as talc. I was chosen, probably as the group member with the most grey hairs, to operate the radio and advise the dinghy to pick us up when we were finished on the sand. We were feeling that we hadn’t gotten enough exercise lately, so Meg and I ran two circuits of the sandy area where all the people were. We saw some stingrays off to the side and the sun was out in full force by the time we were finished. Being hot and sweaty now, we had earned our swim. It was one of those shallow beaches where you had to walk forever to get out over your head and the water was perfectly clear for miles. There were thousands of piles of sea-creature excrement all over the beach area, shaped like a small heap of thick worms made of sandy stuff. These were ugly but in no way hindered our swim. The water was considered far too cold for Queenslanders (about 24 degrees), but to us it was a little cool getting in and then refreshing. We had a good long swim and then dried off on the perfect sand. After that, I went for a walk around the area looking for stingrays and enjoying just being there. Meg took the camera to get all artsy but ended up playing with the myriad of tiny crabs that scurried along in waves.

We gathered back together and watched the stragglers move towards the meeting point, drawing lots as to whether Meg or the Swiss guys would make it first (Meg beat ‘em). I did an excellent job of using the radio and we walked to our pick up point and were shuttled back to our boat. Next was a short trip to our first snorkeling spot, which was not one on the agenda as it was an area usually too wavy to swim at. Today was placid so we got to go into the bay. A short swim from the boat and we were above huge islands of coral of all colours and shapes. We didn’t have any fish larger than us here, but the variety seemed more extreme than the barrier reef and you could swim through whole schools of them . We found lots of cleaning stations where the cleaner wrasse would pick skin from other fish and there were large crevasses to swim down into and explore. Every corner you turned had a different environment including a large area of broken grey coral that still attracted lots of fish. It was a stunning spot.

Meg distracts our tolerant captain.

The wind picked up so we moved early to our second snorkel spot. This was a more sheltered area with a larger ship that had a water-slide and a crew of scuba divers bubbling around. Meg had gotten cold so we started out in a kayak made of clear plastic so that you could look at the reef through the bottom. I soon found myself feeling queasy as the combination of the motion and viewpoint didn't work for me, so I switched to snorkeling while Meg picked up another paddling partner. This spot had a different setup but was still teeming with fish. It had huge coral formations and I saw some anemone fish, Nemo’s relatives, on a deeper dive. Again, a stunning spot with tons of variety and colour.

When we all got onto the boat we were fairly tired so our snack of nachos was quickly devoured. We headed out a bit so that we could get an unobstructed view of the sunset and then went a little farther to our mooring site. Dinner was a green curry with rice followed by cheesecake. Toby went over the next day’s plan with us and you could see people’s eyelids drooping after such an active day. Before long people were peeling off and we retired with a portable DVD player to check out The Fighter (not a bad flick). By 10:30 everyone had had it and the ship went to sleep after a truly excellent day.

Thurs. Sept. 22-

The morning was cool and overcast, so there was not huge enthusiasm about our final snorkel. Again, the area was very different with new types of coral at all depths which brightened up whenever the sun came out from behind a cloud. I surfaced to see where Meg was and she was frantically waving her arms. A bunch of us swam over and were able to follow along with a huge green sea turtle as it made its way through the water! We were warned not to swim above it as it can get spooked and drown by being afraid to come up for air. We must have treated it well, as it surfaced and took a breath while we watched. After that, Meg wanted to leave on a high but I stayed out until the end, as there was a large area to poke around including huge schools of brightly coloured fish that let you swim right along with them. Our Aussie captain was shaking his head at these foreigners who could spend hours in the frigid waters, but this was the best snorkeling I’d ever experienced so I greedily maxed out my time.

After that it was time to head back and we finally got to unfurl the sails to propel us home. Everyone was still pooped and mostly just watched the scenery go by with their soundtrack of choice running into their ear-buds. Sailing through bright blue waters past green islands with white beaches really wasn’t too horrible a way to spend time. After docking we had our goodbyes and walked back to the centre of town. We split a felafel sandwich for lunch and picked up some new books at the book exchange. Everything was packed up and the car was still intact, so we set off for Mackay, only about two hours away.

The hostel was Gecko’s Rest and it was at the end of a long hallway in a downtown business centre. Our room had dingy skylights that we first thought were fluorescent lights that wouldn’t shut off. We walked downtown to get groceries and a coffee, amazed that two days on cruising on a sailboat could take so much out of you. The downtown was strangely quiet, with few people walking around and cars just sailing through without stopping. We easily found a parking spot right in front of our place in this unlovely town.

After we got back we were sorting our laundry when Meg noticed a trail of blood spots across the shoulder of her nightie. Our guidebook had warned us that many of the boats had bedbug issues but the company we booked through was supposed to be good about that problem. Nonetheless, we immediately washed our clothing from the cruise in as hot water as we could and even Meg washed out the two overnight bags that we took onto the ship. Our deep relaxation from our cruise was thus negated by the tension of possibly having hard to get rid of parasites in our bag. It was interesting that almost all hostels we stayed at ( as well as our boat) used dark sheets, were they to cover up blood stains?

The kitchen was another problem. The regulars (many people living there worked locally, mainly on farms) had a reputation for not cleaning dishes so the people running the place would take all of the dirty dishes away and only give them back once they checked in downstairs and washed their stuff before being able to use it again. We were able to sign out some basic cutlery but had trouble matching cookware for our dinner. We spoke with some of the people who worked there but they weren't as friendly to us as other places as most people knew each other already. We got fed and headed to bed. There was a fair bit of running around and drunken noise during the night. When I got up late to use the washroom there was a drunken woman passed out in the common room with the stereo cranked up. She had a pizza box for a pillow. Classy.

Friday – We got up early and tried to fry eggs but the management turned off the power to the kitchen every night until 8 am for safety reasons. We got a kettle going to have hot coffee with our cold cereal and wondered why no other hostel in Australia had such safety concerns.

It was going to be a very long driving day into the outback so that we could explore the Carnarvon Gorge. This National Park was listed by The Lonely Planet as one of the top 14 highlights of the country but no other backpacker had heard of (probably because if one relied on buses then this place was out of the question). The road kept getting rougher and rougher as we went inland, with fewer passing lanes, smaller shoulders and more bumpy patching. The number of pullover spots for drivers increased and public safety signs warned about the dangers of sleepy drivers. There were also home made signs noting all crashes on the highway (which were many) with primitive drawings of the causes, from cellphones to kangaroos, to flipped cars. We figured it was either the work of a motivated elementary class or an obsessive adult who lost a loved one to an accident.

The landscape became Serengeti-like, with a few big trees surrounded by tall, brown grass, and occasional dirt roads leading off the highway. Towns popped up every 100 km or so. One place we stopped at, a restaurant/bar was playing the Stranglers loud outside in the morning and offered “Topless Thursdays” if we stuck around. Alas, we didn’t.

We took turns driving and fueled up at the last town before the park as we were warned to. The GPS directed us to a dirt road 60 km before we were supposed to, so we ignored it and took the clearly posted turnoff 30 minutes down the road. Very little traffic was on this route and even less once we turned off. We now had to share the road with unfenced cattle, which usually moved off the road when the car approached them. We also dealt with “grids”, which were bone-shaking grates that graced each of the many bridges we crossed. Eventually we hit a dirt road for the last 20 km but luckily found our campground well before dark, our goal. The place was packed and we found out that it was school holidays, which explained all of the families there. It actually was a refreshing change from the backpacker circuit as the parents generally kept the kids nicely in line, and we got to meet the locals.

An echidna, fearing for its life.

Our canvass tent/cabin was set up to sleep 5 so we had lots of space to spread out. It had power and a fridge and a little front porch so it was well set up. We walked up to a lookout close by and spotted a spiny anteater (echidna) with the help of an older couple who pointed it out to us. The scenic view itself overlooked some exposed rock that we figured to be the gorge, but was otherwise not hugely impressive. On the way down we saw another anteater that rolled itself into a ball with its spikes pointed out when it saw us.

We tried to use Skype and book rooms ahead for our next destination but the expensive satellite network was too weak to connect a Skype call. We then headed to the big camping area and were able to cook dinner using some pots we borrowed from the front desk. When we cleaned up Meg met a guy who was involved with job training programs similar to hers so they had lots to talk about. We were planning a long hike the next day, so we organized our stuff and had a good sleep.

Big bend- both big and bendy!

Sat. – We got up at 7 and made breakfast, frying the bread for want of a toaster. We had to drive about 20 minutes to get to the Carnarvon National Park entrance and on the way we saw our first live kangaroos, hopping along by the side of the road. After parking at the gorge we saw many more, trying to figure out if the smaller ones were youngsters or wallabies. The information office helped us to time out our hike, which was hard to estimate as hiking speed is dependent upon how well the trail is blazed. We set off at a good pace and were grateful that the day was overcast and breezy, perfect for hiking. We passed many small families on our way, but after about two hours there were no more little kids. At this point the path took much longer, as we kept crossing and re-crossing the rocky Carnarvon Stream, which slowed us down greatly. We powered our way to the end of the trail before noon and celebrated by having our lunch at Big Bend. This was a spot where the river had eroded a huge curve in the 100m or so wall, which created an impressive effect. Working our way back we stopped off at “Cathedral Cave” with its high ceiling. Nearby was some well preserved Aboriginal art, created by spraying pigment over objects giving a stencil-like effect. Most were of hand-prints, but there were net patterns, weapon patterns, animal patterns and repeated patterns representing vulvas. This was all done on the side of a rock face with a boardwalk to view it all from.

Meg, the Vanna White of Aboriginal art.

We now had to retrace our steps for almost two hours and were pretty worn out by the time we got to the “Art Gallery” (with more aboriginal rock painting). Along the way I saw a small green snake that slithered into the grass before Meg could see it. A German guy going the other way warned us of a dangerous looking snake close to the path by the stream, but we couldn’t find it. All along the way there were little rustlings in the grass, but most of the time it was just little geckos, which were hard to spot in the thick, dead underbrush. We saw another spiny anteater ball up at the sight of us. This took us on a steep hike uphill that ended with us walking through a cracked rock. The viewing area was of art similar to Cathedral Cave in setup and display. Our last stop of the day was at “Ward's Canyon”, which started us off hiking uphill towards a small waterfall. The air became wonderfully cool as we headed up over rocks into an area above the waterfall with a walkway between two steep rock sides and lots of greenery growing inside. We continued past a big side cave to a final garden full of king ferns, which only grow in certain areas. These are huge ferns and as you looked up through the gap in the rock it was all green. The cool area was invigorating and the surroundings were beautiful. In this area we bumped into a barefoot hiker with a big camera, who had a personal guide. He was odd beyond his shoeless hiking technique in that he wasn’t hugely friendly, seemed to be concerned with his photography but thought nothing of walking into the pictures of others.

Ward's Canyon entranceway.

We hiked the rest of the way back on tired legs (natural after hiking 23k in total) and were glad to arrive back at the main park area and get some fresh water into our bottles. The drive back felt long but it was nice to sit and rest our tired legs after seven hours of hiking. After we had properly chilled out, we got dinner together and took a break by the large bonfire beside the kitchen area that had been abandoned, unfortunately we did not think to stock marshmallows. As we were cleaning up Meg met someone from London, Ontario as well as an older couple who had ridden motorbikes all the way from Tasmania. After repacking and reading we enjoyed a well-earned sleep.

The hike back to civilization.

Sunday – We got up fairly early but not nearly as early as we would have liked. We quickly got packed and had breakfast while we set up our bag lunches. By 8 am the day had already heated up quite a bit but we were out of there ahead of most people. Along the way we saw a huge number of kangaroos, (including one with a joey in pouch) by the campground parking lot. These animals had little fear of humans and allowed us to get quite close. We were heading up the same trail as yesterday and hoped to jog it but the sky was clear and the wind had vanished, making for a very hot day. I power-walked while Meg alternated running and walking. We passed a few strolling seniors and a few families but had a lot more space to ourselves today. We quickly got up to the “Amphitheatre” site, where you had to climb up some steep metal steps into a crack in the rock that led to an eroded field in the rocks with 80 metre sheer walls on each side. One of the other visitors there said that he had visited the spot 20 years before and at that point you had to take a rope ladder down into it from the top rim, which would have been a daring path to take. There was a small lake with greenery in the space, and we had fun creating echoes.

Our last stop was the “Moss Garden”, which was our last side trail where you walked up into a canyon where the rock was bare until about 6 metres above the ground, where it was dripping and covered in moss. Apparently the top rock is water-permeable and the bottom layer isn’t, so that’s where the water comes out and the greenery starts. This was a narrow area with a boardwalk and another cool breeze which we greatly enjoyed after the hot hike.

Back on the track, we hustled back to the headquarters and had our bag lunch by the car. On this drive the roads generally kept getting better the longer we went, which was a nice change from last time. On the way out we saw a group of emus cross the road. As we drove closer to them, they got spooked and then ran back across in front of us again, before escaping across the fields. Had we been moving much faster it would have been emu BBQ for dinner that night. We continued down narrow roads with a town about every 100 km and dry brush fields surrounding us. We got as far as Biloela before sunset (we didn't drive at night as we weren't used to driving on the left) and tried to get a room, but there was no one in the first motel we stopped at. The next one gave us a room at a decent rate and we were able to relax and repack in what seemed like quite a bit of space to us. The guy who booked us went through our dinner options, which were quite limited. He gave the impression that on a Sunday night in Biloela one had to revise their expectations. There was a bottle shop there and we got the only unpleasant Australian wine of the trip so far, a nasty chardonnay with some queen on the label. Dinner was at the motel, which was roast night. I had some mediocre lamb while Meg quite enjoyed her barramundi. Our main courses took forever to get there, so we were able to enjoy the supremely weird salad bar while waiting. The only fresh thing there was lettuce, otherwise there was canned corn and asparagus, sun-dried tomatoes, olives, pickled beets and some nasty looking potato salads. The other side of the bar had a selection of vegetables, including some nicely roasted potatoes, yams and squash. The place was quite full, this seemed to be THE spot in Biloela on a Sunday night. The motel also had a few gambling rooms which had some people on slot machines and some more active folks betting on horses. We had to Skype our credit card companies to find out why they hadn’t been working, and the strongest signal was outside the gaming rooms so we had to shout over the binging and bonging of the machines. It turns out that our cards were fine but people trying to use our PIN with a swipe had no success, the PIN went with a chip and the swipe had to be signed. Much relieved that our cards worked, we slept soundly.

Monday – The breakfasts at the motel were wildly overpriced, so we made do in our room with muesli in tea cups. Once the car was packed we headed down the road along more barren country, heading back towards the coastal highway. We didn’t think to check the route our GPS had plotted and we ended up on about 50 km of lousy dirt highway and we were just lucky that we didn’t meet anyone coming the other way as there was no space at all on the wretched road. Occasionally we would get a few hundred metres of pavement, but it was just a tease as it was soon back to dirt. The only good thing about it was that we saw a huge lizard run at full speed ahead of us to avoid being crushed, but it was a tiring and annoying route that could have been easily bypassed by checking the GPS against our proper map.

Finally onto the highway, we had another 30 minutes to go until the nearest town and stopped for lunch at the first place we found. This was a family spot with a fun climbing playground next to the dining area. We did the normal Australian thing, which was to order and pay and take a number sign to the table and wait for the food to come. Meg was starting to feel a cold coming on and so ordered soup. We noticed that several people left with huge portions of their meals still uneaten, never a good sign. Meg’s leek and potato soup was really meant to stick wallpaper up, with less flavor than the traditional paste. My club sandwich was moist with fired egg in it and nasty tasting crinkle fries on the side. This meal did nothing to improve our mood.

The rest of our drive into Hervey Bay on the coast was pretty uneventful but I must say that’s it’s annoying to have to go through about a dozen fast-moving roundabouts when entering most Australian towns. The people at our hostel were super nice (her name was Megan also). The place consisted of some renovated farm buildings and our room had a nice wood interior with the bed under a sloping roof upon which Meg ended up bumping her head repeatedly.

Meg worked at sleeping off her cold and I walked to the local supermarket to stock up. We were low on lots of stuff and were lucky that there was lots of fridge and cupboard space here, a rare commodity at hostels. On the way back from shopping I saw flocks of colourful parrots in the parking lots, squawking and scavenging around making the place feel truly tropical. We ate dinner in the very quiet kitchen, where people were pleasant enough but went right back to their laptops after acknowledging you.

Back at our room, we found that the walls were quite thin and we could clearly hear the Japanese TV show our neighbours were watching on their laptop. Fortunately, everyone quieted down early and we had a decent sleep. 

Get up early enough and you'll get a proper Australian greeting!

  

Our Australian Adventure - The Beginning

        

Thurs. Sept. 8

Importation of illicit bloodworm  infectious- despite good intentions, Canadians implicated…goods impounded…

Landing in Sydney, we thought that we wouldn’t have any problems with customs, having just flown over from New Zealand. Not so fast- the bag of apples we had brought with uswerecause for us to be detained by the bio inspectors. We had to have our entire food bag inspected as well as our hiking boots. The inspector was pleased with everything except for the apples. They had to be incinerated as they contained potential bloodworm which doesn’t exist in Australia. To even suggest I munch on one was sacrilege.

We found that both our bags made it but had to wait 30 minutes for our shuttle which whisked us to hostels all over town at an alarming pace.  We had checked our place out on Trip Advisor the night before and were disappointed to find that it was rated low with reports of dirt and cockroaches.  Remembering our experience in Hawaii, we decided to only commit to one night until we saw what the situation was.  Luckily our room was big, with a fridge, TV and sink and but no sign of buggies.  We had to reset our body clocks, so in order to stay awake late we walked through the Sydney area of King’s Cross, where every other building is a backpackers.  We cased out about 5 potential alternatives should our place turn ugly.  We also had a good look at the neighbourhood, which reminded me of parts of Ste. Catherine St. in Montreal.  Seedy sex shops next to fast food joints next to clubs with line ups and lots of neon and kids from the suburbs dressed up for a big night out. 

SOCIALISING AND SHIRAZ AT SYDNEY OPERA! (In which Macbeth gets stabbed, staggers, falls to his knees but continues to sing for another 20 minutes, before finally keeling over.)

Friday.We had breakfastwhere we met Jamie, an Aussie who had served with the Americans in Iraq and was now back home after his marriage to an American woman didn’t work out.  We decided to walk by the sea wall to the Opera House.  This route took us through the extensive botanical gardens where Meg was soon covered in greedy cockatiels and ibises.  After she stopped giving out crackers, they moved on to the next tourist and allowed us free passage through the  

Just like in that Hitchcock movie....

elaborate gardens to the coast, where we had a stunning view of the Opera House with the bridge behind it.  We had lunch in the nearby park with a view out to sea and then went to buy tickets. They had seats available for that night’s opera- a gala opener, but the cheaper seats were extremely obstructed and not worth the price, so we went with the cheapest possible at $40 each for standing room.

The singular reference to the Sydney Opera House is misleading as it’s actually three buildings; the opera house, the concert hall and the restaurant.  The concert hall was supposed to actually house the opera but they put the opera into the smaller venue meant for theatre because they felt that there wasn’t a market for opera in Sydney. 

We continued along the water through the Circular Quay where the ferries and boutique hotels resided.  There were a fair number of street performers, including two didgeridoo players gooving along with techno beats.  It was sunny and crowded with tourists spilling onto and off of the many boats. 

To prove we were there!



At the famous opera house, even in our best duds, we were way underdressed and so we appreciated the few real slobs who showed up in stuff that made us look relatively good.  Gift shop had an Opera House Barbie with her dress  a modern opera house silhouette, and tons of miniature opera houses that were salt and pepper shakers.  We weren’t allowed in until 5 minutes before the show and only stood there for a few moments before the usher told us that there was an entire empty row that we could sit in.  The guy next to us said that he always got a seat when he bought standing tickets.  The seats were high up but still had a good view and the sound seemed okay to our heathen ears.  Neither of us had seen Verdi’s Macbeth before and it had some great pieces sung very well, along with having a real story to tell.  They had them wearing Italian army outfits of the time which looked Prussian.  It was a fairly good opera; I didn’t fully doze off at all and Meg only fell asleep twice.  The views from the lounge at intermission were stunning and the Governor of New South Wales was present for this performance, opening night, but we couldn’t see her.  The best part was when Macduff killed Macbeth and you thought he was dead but got up to sing another aria before finally kicking the bucket.  Good show.

Searching for Russell Crowe and other illuminating experiences….

Sunday – After Meg got back (from Unitarian Church) we were feeling sluggish and so went for a run through the botanical gardens and towards the opera house before turning around and meeting back by the finger wharf inWoolloomooloo.  Lots of people were about, and this looked to be the prime place for a jog.  The doorman at the Blue Hotel at the entryway to the wharftold us that the hotel was for only about the first 1/3 of the wharf and the rest were private condos.  Some of the original wool conveyor machinery was incorporated into part of the décor, but this place was swish with $50 valet parking.  The residence at the end was Russell Crowe’s house.   Russell wasn’t in that day, however I did use the public washroom which his girlfriend may have used –so felt like we kind of shared a moment there…

Monday – A three hour tour…

We had signed up for the free Sydney tour and were picked up by our guide at the hostel.  Being “picked up “was not what we thought- instead of a van we had a human train- Sam our guide, bounding up to us in her red shirt with a slowly growing trail of backpackers following her.  We  

An Aussie good luck charm.

picked people up for 45 minutes and then the tour proper started.  We started at the Old Customs Building which had a model of Sydney under the floor on Plexiglas.  Sam recounted entertaining anecdotes about the history of the place, from Captain Cook’s arrival, to prison colony tales, to more modern events.  Many stories covered the brutal details of life in the penal colonywhich make for good listening.  We walked by The Rocks where the oldest buildings are and then walked through the modern downtown core.  At a fountain Sam was explaining the statues and identified a naked man with a sheep and a goat as being the god of New Zealand. We walked by museums and then down into the botanical gardens, where we went through an area where the trees were full of flying foxes,(bats).  We ended by the opera house.  

Not a fruit tree, a flying fox tree!



The Male Model Magnet (Manly Beach)

After the tour we went to the circular quay and caught theManly Ferry. We got seats on the bow and enjoyed the trip out through the harbour. With all of the water and green space, it really is a photogenic city.  We stopped at an Aboriginal shop where the salesperson told us to look for the artist and designer information on all materials.  She admitted that many items were outsourced to China, but the designs were aboriginal and as long as the artists is listed then they’re at least getting royalties.

Further on, we hit the long, sandy beach where there were several surfers and kayakers and a few cold-looking high school kids playing rugby in the waves.We were told by Sam that Manly Beach was named after the local men who were manly and handsome- but Meg was disappointed. Oh well, on the way back we spoke to a couple of women who recognized us from the ferry and a friendly older American couple who had retired to Manly Beach.

The ferry ride backhad lovely views as well; we were getting pretty spoiled by this point.  Meg had her picture taken with a manly man, Russell Crowe, on the ferry, but we didn’t get his autograph as he looked like he wanted to maintain his privacy…. On the way we picked up some  

In pursuit of Mr. Crowe.

wine at our favourite store, Mister Liquor (which had $5 wine specials).  One of Sam (free tour’s) tips to avoid the cost of going up the Sydney Tower and was to go to the Orbit Lounge(arevolving bar which takes an hour and 45 minutes to do a full rotation).  We got up there and were initially furious that we were given the worst view- a post between windows! But stupid us- we revolved away from it.  We were tempted by exotic sounding rainwater from Tasmanian Mountain --purest on earth but ….instead chose the decadent LimeGimlet,a Glen something, and gourmet nuts(including warm almonds toasted in butter and coated with Murray River Pink Salt).  The night sky was romantic and we enjoyed picking out familiar landmarks and deciding which buildings had the best neon. 

Back at the hostel we climbed up to the rooftop patio -there was a nice British couple who were working in Sydney.  Once your initial Visa is up you have to spend 3 months working on a local farm to renew it.  They said that on some farms they only got paid $14 a day and they left as soon as they could.  They had found decent jobs in the city and seemed quite content with their lot.  Went downstairs and chatted with the manager, Danny, who sounds just like Jemaine from the Conchords,he however has not met Russell Crowe and is not able to introduce me(alas). 

Obligatory ferry shot.



Tuesday, Sept. 13 –Sadly shunned on shuttle! Innocent of scent!

On our way to the airport, in the crowded shuttle, we had to apologize to our neighbours for the smell from our bags, as we had hard boiled some eggs for our lunch and they smelled the way eggs do. There were no problems getting onto the plane and we were glad we brought our lunch (but we were the only ones).

At Cairns, once again our luggage was not lost and we easily found our shuttle into Cairns (pronounced like Cannes).  After the office opened we checked in and found that we got free dinner tickets every night at a downtown watering hole. We walked to town; our hostel was a fair piece out.  Cairns is a hopping area of shops and bars with lots to look at while you stroll.  It was also the first place in the country where we saw actual Aborigines being part of the local makeup.   At the pub the woman up front was there to tell everyone that the free meals were crap and to use their tickets for upgrades.  We both upgraded and got huge plates full of ribs and tandoori chicken for not much money. 

Weds.  Sept. 14 – We decided to have a mellow day before hitting the barrier reef.  We decided on a tour that went to the outer reef (best fish) but also had a variety of dry activities, should we get cold, such as a semi-submersible submarine and glass-bottomed boat trips. The town’s swimming lagoon, was closed on Wednesdays until noon for cleaning but no great disappointment as it was just a glorified swimming pool filled with sea water.  We took turns swimming (necessary when travelling with anything valuable) and it was surprisingly pleasant.  There was a large area deep enough to swim in, including a shelf you could sit on and look out over the town boardwalk at the sea.

Reef Beliefs-Sea Cucumber Karma (Crappy)

That night we went to educate ourselves at Reef Teach, a two-hour course on the reef.  The first hour was about invertebrate life (coral, worms and such) and the second half featured our vertebrate friends.  We gave us outline papers and Meg took copious notes.  It was worth doing, as it explained how the reef was built and how its inhabitants interact.  We definitely used the knowledge gained there on all of our snorkeling trips on the reef.  One of Graham (our marine biologist’s) favourite sad stories was about the sea cucumber, which spends its life eating and excreting sand.  If it gets threatened it shoots out its lungs as its only defense.  Its lungs are positioned by its anus, where often a fish lives for protection.  If the fish can’t find food elsewhere, it begins to eat the sea cucumber from the inside out.  Not a critter to be in your next life.

Thurs.Dangerous  Dudes, Didgeridoos, Sacred Dances and The Dreamtime …    

We walked downtown to pick up the Sun Bus to an Aboriginal Village attraction, Tjapukai, just outside of town.  While waiting for the bus, this seedy guy asked us where we were going.  I later heard him conversing with his friend about how many items he was moving from his corner, how many places he had been kicked out of and how much money women can actually make by being prostitutes.  A quality guy.  

Far from setting the world on fire.



Cairns turned out to be quite a spread out place and it took 45 minutes to bus out to the Village.  There were a number of activities that rotated throughout the day so that no matter what time you showed up you could cycle through all of them.  We started at weapon- making with a large group off of a bus.   We saw an assortment of clubs, spears and boomerangs and heard about how  

Handling artifacts responsibly.

they were used.  We then saw a demonstration of bush food and medicine, including how to prepare poisonous food so it could be safely eaten.  We then practiced throwing spears with a woomera and trying to get a boomerang to come back.  My spear throwing was amongst the best in the group but my boomerang quickly found the ground rather than sailing back to my hand.  Next we saw the Creation Theatre, where Aboriginal legends from the dreamtime were told with a combination of live actors and digital projection effects.  Then the bus group left and the remaining 8 of us went to the sing along show, which included some great didgeridoo music and many dances which represented local animals.  They got people up on stage and I was unable to make the fire using the friction method but helped with the post-fire celebratory dancing.  There were only 6 of us left for the didgeridoo session, which was really fascinating except for the tiresome new- age music and nature photoaccompaniment.  The player used circular breathing (which meant he could have played  for about 2 hours).  The instruments are all different keys and are traditionally made from wood hollowed out by termites.  We had a bit more time before we caught our bus, so were able to watch most of a film detailing the slaughter of Aboriginals by the Australian settlers (very sad).

 

Don't give up your day job...

 



.....or yours!

Canadian Boy Barfs on Barrier Reef (4X)! Losing Lunch at Barrier Reef

Friday –We decided to book the excursion on this day because the winds were down to 15-20 knots from 20-25 of earlier in the week.  But it was still very wavy and our high-speed boat was doing a lot of moving.  Meg (who had taken motion sickness medicine) reviewed her notes from Reef Teach and pulled out a book she borrowed from our hostel with pictures of all sorts of reef life.  I kept feeling worse until about 15 minutes before we docked at the outer reef platform, I lost my breakfast.  I had been seasick twice before but never this bad, so I blame the previous night’s cheap wine more than the motion.  The crewwere used to this sort of reaction and I felt better for a little while and made it to the platform where we were to spend most of the day. 

The platform was large and sheltered and more stable than a boat but still rocked a bit.  Meg got me a piece of cake from the morning snack and I tried the semi-submersible trip (big mistake!).  This was a boat where you sat below water level and looked out the glass sides.  You could see lots of coral and fish but all of the colours were blued out.  Since there was no fresh air and I had no fixed point to focus on, I vomited again just as the boat was unloading.  As I recovered , a crew member advised me that  when feeling nauseous going into a submersible was the worst possible option and that getting into the water would be the best thing you could do, oops!She was right and the reef was amazing, with a huge variety of coral and lots of coloured fish of all sizes darting around.  I felt alright and had a good long swim around the coral patch that our trip was based around.  At one point our ship’s photographer called me over and I had my picture taken with Wally, a huge and colourful Maori wrasse who seemed to do whatever the photographer wanted him to.  I went in for a second swim with Meg, and this time Wally swam up to me and wanted his back rubbed.  It was definitely cool, but a little disconcerting when a fish larger than you are comes right at you.

Back on the floating dock, I rested for a bit but was very cold from having no food left in my stomach to fuel the furnace.  They were serving lunch, and the smell of lasagna set me off again.   At fish feeding time I went into the water again to check out the feeding frenzy.  Wally was right up on the platform and half out of the water and the water was thick with other fish trying to get some of the goodies being tossed around.  The underwater viewing was great, but I was getting very cold by this point and went back up onto the platform.

A rare non-sick moment shared with a fish.

 I wanted to go on the advanced snorkeling safari(where Meg saw a shark) and so changed out of the wetsuit and tried to warm up.  I was doing alright but when I put on my wetsuit to join the group I vomited again, so the trip was out of the question.  Off went Meg and I changed back into my warmest stuff and headed up to the sun deck.  It should have been called the sick bay as all the people who had gotten sick that day were up there trying to recover (about 8 people out of 30).  I warmed up and nodded off.  An employee woke me when they were loading the boat and I got on.  Meg and I both lay down and napped most of the boat ride back and I was able to eat some of the watermelon they had out for a snack.

After some dinner, we went to bed early and were sleeping well until about 1 am when our Finnish hostel mates decided to party by the swimming pool.  The music and talking wouldn’t have woken us up, but one thoroughly sloshed boy kept moving between our cabins and shouting as loud as he could.  He then made a point of trying to get the girls in the group to scream, which they didn’t need too much coaxing to do.  I got up and spoke to them nicely, and they were polite to my face but Mr. Drunko went back to his loud ways as soon as I shut my door.  Finland, let us hope that he is not representative of your youth in general!