Aussie! Chapter Two

From Brisbane, I hopped the Greyhound for the five-hour journey to Hervey Bay, or, the gateway to Fraser Island. From what I understand, it's really the only reason people stop in the town, and I was no different! I arrived in the early evening and was met at the bus stop by the owner of my hostel and his bright pink van. Hot. Once checked in, I got chatting to some folks in my dorm room and joined them for fish and chips (well, chicken nuggets and chips for me- I still can't do that seafood thing!) I had a very early start the following morning, so after that I went to pack up my things for my two-day/one-night trip to Fraser, as I'd be leaving the big backpack behind.

The next morning at too-early o'clock, the bus to take me to the Fraser Island ferry arrived. Everyone was looking a bit sleepy, so there wasn't much socializing until we arrived on the island and were herded onto our tour bus. Little did I know what shenanigans were about to begin, but let me tell you a little about Fraser before I get to that.

First and foremost it's famous for being the largest sand island in the world- 1840 kilometers squared. It's a fairly diverse place as well, nature-wise, with all sorts of magical birds, bees and trees. My favorite thing about it is the Aboriginal belief of how the island came to be. The main Aboriginal god (name escapes...) had a daughter and he sent her down from the up above to create the world (with his supervision, of course). She loved the earth so much- the animals and rivers and lakes and things- that when she went back up to her father, she begged him to let her live on earth. Dad/God didn't much care for this idea- he didn't want her just wandering around, getting into scrapes like kids do, so to keep her off the mean streets of the new planet, they came up with a compromise: she would become an island. So she floated back down and lay down in the ocean and became Fraser Island (named after one Elizabeth Fraser, methinks), the rivers and streams her lifeblood.

Lovely story, right? Now, back to the party. Once off the boat, as noted, our tour guide/driver Peter got us all on the bus and we began bouncing (and I mean BOUNCING) along the sand roads. Peter was an absolute riot- full of the sorts of jokes that you know you should groan at, but that you secretly find hilarious. Even though he does this five times a week or something, he made us feel like we were the world's number one tour group!

First we visited Basin Lake, very beautiful and clear. A few folks went swimming but not being much of a water person, I skipped it. We then went on a little hike through the forest- all of us dismayed to be almost outpaced by two elderly German sisters! After seeing 'something else' (as I have helpfully noted in my journal), we had a yummy picnic lunch followed by a visit to the famous Lake McKenzie. Now this lake really was spectacular! As blue as the bluest of blues and crystal clear, even I, the champion water-avoider, couldn't resist a swim- especially when Peter tossed us an underwater camera and told us to go nuts! Afterwards we warmed up with some coffee and tea and were then driven to our hostel. (Lots of folks camp and whatnot on Fraser, but I opted not to. I haven't changed THAT much!) I was glad to be rooming with three new friends- Becky and Olivia from England and Angela from Holland. We quickly dumped our stuff and caught a shuttle bus down to the beach to drink some beverages of the alcoholic persuasion and watch the gorgeous sunset with more new friends from Canada and Holland. As we sat there, contemplating what horrible lives we all have, we heard some commotion down the beach, only to see a dingo strolling along. (Luckily there were no babies around.)

There are quite a few dingoes on Fraser, and they can be extremely aggressive. I know this thanks to a sign that said: "Beware! An aggressive dingo frequents this area. It is frequently in this area and is known to be aggressive." (Thanks for clearing that up.) But seriously, they are pretty dangerous when they want food. Still, it was cool to see one for real (especially as, spoiler alert, I didn't see ONE kangaroo the whole time in Oz!), but I didn't snap a picture because my camera was dying and honestly, they're just skinny red (vaguely angry) dogs.

After the sunset we all piled into the shuttle bus (and I mean piled- I was sitting on someone's lap with about eight people on my lap) and went back up the hill for dinner which was followed by an eclectic variety of drinking games, contributed by citizens of several different countries! We played Fuzzy Duck from Wales, some hand slapping thing from Holland, Spoons from the UK, S**thead from Germany and the now infamous 'Box Game', taught to us by three lovely Dutch boys. This highly amusing pastime begins with an empty goon box with one side ripped off. The participants stand in a circle and must take turns picking the box up off the floor using only their teeth (well, the rules are no hands, so...). Once everyone in the circle has successfully completed this task (three tries then you're out), a strip of the box is ripped off around the top, making the box shorter and therefore harder to grab etc., and so on. I went into this overly confident thanks to yoga, only to find that I was RUBBISH and could barely make it to round three, after which I gracefully exited the game and soon after that, went to bed!

The following day was another early start, and Peter drove us down to 75-mile beach and then, ONTO 75-mile beach where were zoomed alongside the surf at unbelievably high speeds! It was incredibly beautiful though. We soon arrived at Eli Creek, a fantastically clear little river that one can float down or walk through. As there was only one flotation device for 35 people, most of us walked. We then hurtled further down the beach to the famous Maheno shipwreck, which ran aground on Fraser while being transported to Japan as scrap metal in 1935. No one died or anything (good! But, slightly less exciting too, in a way...), but it's still pretty spooky as it just sits there, right on the beach, rusty and forlorn-looking.

After more daredevil beach driving (and our bus wasn't small- it felt like we were going to tip over!), we arrived at Indian Head which we were to hike up. It was a fairly easy hike with an incredible view, but the weather was absolutely schizophrenic! I've never experienced anything like it! It LITERALLY went from baking sun to hail to rain and back to sun again in about seven minutes. Bizarre! Once we were all down, we hopped back on the bus for lunch, only to find out that we'd lost one of the elderly Germans! Panic ensued, but thankfully we found her with another tour group somewhere down the beach- phew!

After lunch it was more swimming, this time in the Champagne Pools. These are huge rock pools where the ocean waves crash over the top making tons of bubbles, giving the effect of a glass of champagne. Though I was slightly disappointed to learn that we wouldn't actually be served champagne, it was still a lovely spot to visit.

We capped off the day with a visit to a seriously massive sand dune and we all went sand-jumping down the side of it- leading to sand-filled bottoms and a couple of ruined cameras! Then it was quickly back to the bus to rush back to the ferry port. Why? Because yours truly here had to catch the 5pm ferry. Yep, just me. I had been given the wrong information about when we'd be back, and had to catch an overnight bus to Airlie Beach. Super embarrassing, but also lots of fun as Peter positively raced along the sand roads, blasting AC/DC and sending us flying all over the place. He got me there with about 30 seconds to spare and I hopped on the ferry, sad to miss the end of the tour with my new friends, but excited for the next leg of my trip to the Whitsunday Islands.

After a non-eventful ferry ride and bus trip, I arrived in Airlie Beach at 9am-ish the following day. I wasn't leaving for the Whitsundays until the next morning, so I had a day to get organized- a pedicure, some Interwebs, laundry and whatnot. I met a nice girl called Rosie in my hostel room and we went together to watch the film the hostel put on that evening, Pearl Harbor. It was actually quite appropriate, as it was Thanksgiving in the US and I was feeling patriotic towards my adopted land. I celebrated by having some toast. Rosie's toast, actually. Saved me a buck.

The next morning, after storing the big backpack again, I was picked up for my two-day/one-night trip to the Whitsunday islands. There are 94 islands total, all in the general area of the Great Barrier Reef. At the port I boarded a shockingly purple catamaran, the Camira. We set off in decent weather, though we did get some rain over the course of the day. It didn't ruin the gorgeous island views however. On the boat I met some lovely girls- Tabea from Germany, Carley from Wales and Stephanie from England and we had a brilliant day eating and chatting and sunbathing on the beach (minus the hour or so where I was pretty seasick- blah).

At the end of the day Carley, Stephanie, myself and a few others were transferred to the beautiful Long Island for our overnight stay. As we got off the ferry and walked towards the resort, we realized it was, you know, a PROPER place! A real resort where grown-ups go for holidays and things. Result! We checked in and Carley, Stephanie and I managed to get a hostel room together (which despite the massive beetles outside wasn't too bad- we saw a wallaby hopping about nearby!), then showered and went down to the bar for some drinks and an intense girly chat about all things feminine. Brilliant day.

The next morning we dragged ourselves to the pool (tough life), then to the bar for some lunch (what a struggle!) and then we decided to go on a little 'walk' around the island. Oh dear. Well, it started out easy enough, but thanks to recent rain the trail began to get quite muddy and treacherous and not really ideal for flip-flop wearers as we three were. I wasn't too bothered myself, having spent time in India and the like, but Stephanie and Carley (sorry ladies, you know it's true!) were, how do you say, whining? A lot! I had to giggle at them, honestly, and remind them that hey, life could be a lot worse! We survived, however, and after a quick dip to wash off the mud we got back on the ferry bound for Airlie, sad to say goodbye to the gorgeous Whitsundays and our break from the backpacking life. Sigh.

Once back in Airlie at about 5pm, I had a plan to catch an 8pm overnight bus to Cairns. Only problem: I hadn't yet booked the ticket. I did a mad dash to a travel agency to see if they could help me, as I'd lost the booking number for my bus pass. Thankfully, after several phone calls, the girl at the desk managed to book me the ticket. The panic was over, at least for the meantime. I went back to the hostel to retrieve my backpack, take a shower and eat a can of spaghetti and then set off for the bus stop. When the bus arrived I went to check in with the driver and, guess what? I wasn't on the list and it was a packed bus. Boo. He put me to one side with two other travelers in the same predicament and we waited to see if he could squeeze us on. Luckily, he could and we set off for Cairns, where we arrived at about 6:30 the following morning. The hostel I had booked wasn't even open yet, so I sat at the bus stop eating a breakfast of Maltesers and water until 7:30 when I set off to find my lodgings. My strategy at this point in my trip was to email a few decent-sounding hostels and then go with whichever one got back to me first. This time, it was an all-girls hostel- woo hoo. The crazy Dawn, who runs the place, checked me in and I promptly passed out in the dorm room.

When I woke up in the late morning, I had a gourmet lunch from the supermarket and then walked down to the lagoon. The Cairns lagoon is basically a giant man-made municipal swimming pool right by the ocean, surrounded by a big grassy space where everyone sunbathes, hangs out and listens to live music on the weekend. Brilliant. I relaxed there for a while, and then went for a long walk down the waterfront- a few kilometers- stopping at the end to read my book for a while as the sun started to go down. Beautiful. I then walked all the way back, and had a quick bite of pizza for dinner before meandering back to my hostel. That evening I met a lovely girl from Scotland, Claire, and we had a super long chat about all sorts of things- travelling, boys, family, etc. We made plans to hang out the following day, and I went to bed.

In the morning Claire and I met up for breakfast and set off for a walk around Cairns and to find the location where she'd take a bartending course later in the day, as she was on the ever-popular Working Holiday Visa. Cairns is a fairly small and manageable little city- more like a large town- and Claire had been told the place she'd be going was very central. Lies! It was MILES away, and we huffed and puffed and sweated our way down to this office, and once she was sorted decided to take a bus back into town. We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around shops, having lunch and sitting at the lagoon until it was time to part ways- I had to go back to the hostel and pack for my 1:30am flight to Melbourne.

The airport shuttle came for me at 9:30pm, and I got on my Tiger Airways flight at about 1 o'clock in the morning- this was going to be another exhausting journey, but it was the cheapest way! We landed in Melbourne at 4:40am, and after claiming my bags I took a bus into the city and located my hostel at about 6am. Luckily it had a 24-hour reception and they let me in, but it was still four hours until I could check in. I sat and read my book for a while, ate the free breakfast and at about 7:30am fell asleep on the sofa in the lobby while everyone else was sitting all around me, eating breakfast and hanging out! At 10am they let me check in and I went right back to bed. In the early afternoon I got up and went for a walk around the city. Lovely place- I'd been told I'd love it but I think Sydney had already stolen my heart. First I went for a walk down by the river, and then walk all the way back through the city to Brunswick Street, a bit like Haight Street in San Francisco, or somewhere in the village in NYC. I took myself out for a pizza dinner at a cute little Italian place, and then walked aaaall the way back to my hostel, stopping to look at all the Christmas displays in the shop windows. Though lovely, the 'Christmas in summer' thing was really doing my head in. It's not natural people!

The following day I roused myself for an exciting morning catching up on Internet bits 'n bobs, and then went for a stroll to the Botanic Gardens. I was enjoying a lovely healthy lunch on a bench when all of sudden, guess what, it started to POUR! I tried to curl up under my umbrella, but it was a lost cause and I decided I had to head back. Once warm and cozy in the hostel again, I had a cup of tea and waited for the FREE pasta dinner- yippee! After dinner I was milling around the kitchen and I met Shane from Brisbane and Deon from Texas, US of A! Shane managed to procure us a box of goon, so we had a bit of that before going to a local bar for the 'free drink before 10pm.' Unfortunately, once the free drink was gone, we had to go back to the hostel for the goon as we were all too poor to actually purchase a drink. Miserable, but it was all right because the following day, a lifelong dream was to come true...

In the United Kingdom, where as many of my dear readers know I was born and raised until teenage-hood, there's a very popular little television program called Neighbours. It's been on TV for about 25 years, and details the lives and times of, you guessed it, a bunch of neighbours in a fictional suburb of Melbourne. Though an Australian program, it was almost canned in its native country but was revived when the BBC aired it in the UK in 1986. At this point, it absolutely took off, and has been beloved by many a Brit ever since- myself included. In fact, when informed at the tender age of 12 that the Hughes family would be relocating, I got myself into an absolute tizzy over the fact that Neighbours isn't aired in the United States (though it is aired in Kenya, fact), and how was I POSSIBLY going to live without knowing what was happening every day on Ramsay Street?!? (I mean, I loved Neighbours so much I used to give it up for Lent, as it was the hardest thing I could possibly do and I was sure the Good Lord could see that!) Somehow, I survived, but when I was in Melbourne I decided that broke as I was, I just HAD to scrounge up the cash to do the Official Neighbours Tour.

I was therefore BEYOND excited the morning of tour, and picked my best backpacking outfit to wear! I went down to the pickup point at 11am to get on the official bus. As suspected it was packed with 'poms'*, and we sang along to the theme song (which I still remember!) at the top of our lungs as we drove out to 'Erinsborough.' First we visited some of the outdoor sets- a lot has changed in the 14 or so years since I've seen the show, but I recognized some of it! We were then driven to the fictional Ramsay Street, which is actually a tiny road called Pin Oak Court and is where all the outdoor scenes are filmed. Now THIS I recognized! NOTHING has changed since I started watching the program in the late eighties, and I did get a bit giddy seeing Dr. Kennedy's house, the Robinsons' and Harold and Madge's old digs.

After that we were taken to meet an actor, and I hoped against hope that it would be Dr. Kennedy or someone who's been on it for years, but alas, it was an actor whose character has been and gone in the years since I've watched the show, so I had no idea who he was. Still, he was cute so I got a photo with him!

That was the end of the tour, and we were driven back into Melbourne. Our bus driver offered to give us individual rides back if our locations were central, so I felt a right rockstar when I was dropped off at my hostel in the ridiculously cheesy but super awesome Neighbours bus! Top day out!

That evening I had another treat. A girl I had met on the Whitsundays boat trip- Tabea from Germany- was also in town so we got together for a drink at a pub and had a good old chat and listened to some live music. We met up again the following morning for a visit to the excellent Queen Victoria Market where you can get just about ANYTHING, and did some souvenir shopping and whatnot before I had to head to the airport to go back to Sydney.

This time I was to stay at my friend Kate's apartment, and I arrived there at about 6pm. We had a very relaxed evening of snacks and telly-watching before calling it a night. The next morning we got together with some friends of Kate's and all went to a local farmers market where we sampled lovely cheeses and wines and things. In the afternoon, Kate's friend Stacey drove me, Kate and another of their friends who was visiting from the US to Watson's Point for the brilliant views and then to the famous Bondi Beach. Though locals will tell you it's not the best beach around Sydney, and definitely not the best for surfing, it was still a treat to see it given that it's so famous (and to see the lifeguards. Again, for their, you know, skills).

That evening I got the closest a traveler can get to taking the day off from, well, travelling! Kate and her boyfriend Paul went out for dinner, and instead of meeting travelling friends for drinks, I took advantage of a DVD player, a couch and a kitchen and had a night in. Fabulous.

The next day was my last in Australia. After breakfast at home, Kate and I went for walk to the Chinese market and to Darling Harbor, where I ran into an old friend from my long ago Fraser Island days- Horatio from Canada. After some delicious gelato, Kate and I headed back so I could pack and get ready for my journey to New Zealand, which was to be the last stop on the voyage.

Fair dinkum Aussie, I had a brilliant time, and I'll be back to see you as soon as I can for the things I missed: didgeridoos, kangaroos and, um, Uluru!

*'Pom' is the slang word Australians use for British folks. One of the explanations is that it stands for 'Prisoner of Her Majesty'.