50:1
South from Cairns has taken me past hundreds of kilometres of fields filled with cane and banana. The humidity is dropping but the temperatures have not. The Greyhound buses have proved to be efficient and good value for money. They threatened to charge me $6 each time I booked a stage and so far I have not parted with any money at all. Marvelous people.
My first port of call was Airlie Beach. I had fantasized about this being like Mission Beach in the North which was empty, white, and beautiful. Instead I got a larger town with no beach but a big marina where we boarded the vessel which was to take us around the Whitsunday group of islands.
I estimated that the ratio of Brits (mainly English from the North, oddly enough) and Irish to the Aussies here was 50:1. I'm not such a cultural snob that this matters a great deal to me, though non-English birds are a lot nicer IMO, but it gave the whole town an unpleasant feeling of being in the Balaerics. Too many Happy Hours gives rise to lairy and pissed Englishmen and I wanted to be rid of the place.
The following day I got my wish and I boarded Her Majesty's Ship Tongarra. This paint-peeling tub of a catamaran was comfortable and well crewed so I had a good time. The Whitsundays really are pretty with there being decent beaches on the larger islands made from the softest white sand you could hope to see. I felt as if I was in a Nestle Bounty commercial.
On the first night I drank too much rum and so the following day, rising from my stupor, I felt extremely queasy as the boat rolled and pitched. Naturally by blowing chunks overboard I was made the subject of degrading and unamusing taunts which I weathered with aplomb. I did enjoy my time on the boat and was not ill again, mainly because the skipper said the best way to avoid sea-sickness was to have a drive of the boat which I did. Good fun, that. I was a little sad to get off the boat as I had struck up a friendship with the skipper who was a Kiwi.
The other people on the boat were crazy or not interested in talking to me. I got on with a group of 4 Irish lads, one of whom was interested in cricket which I said to him seemed odd given where he's from. He loves the game and so I had someone I could bore for hours with my cricket bluffing. There was also a young guy there who was in his gap year so he must have been 20 or 21. He was filled with that wide-eyed sense of wonder at everything and truly believed that he will change the world, as one does when they leave university. He'll learn. I enjoyed correcting his use of the word "awesome" to describe everything. The moon landings were awesome. The miracle of a fertilized egg becoming a person is awesome. The infinite universe is awesome. Sand crabs are not. They are merely "cool".
I had one more evening in Airlie Beach to wait for my night bus South to Agnes Water/1770. The bus lurched through the night and in between waking dreams I got about 10 mins sleep so when I arrived at 0930 the following day I was my usual sparkling and charming self.
Agnes Water is very close to 1770 and was only connected to the main highway with a bitumen road a few years ago. As a consequence it is tiny and quiet which suited me perfectly as I needed to recover from the ravages of booze, sea sickness, and lack of sleep. I walked around some of the little beaches and inspected the rock pools where I gazed at the tiny critters living in them. I even managed to spot a big crab in its hole and threw a couple of small barnacles down at him. He would then smash the barnacle shell with his claw and eat its flesh. Wouldn't want to step on him, then.
Rejuvenated and refreshed I took another bus to Hervey Bay, a large non-descript town that acts as the gateway to Fraser Island. My hostel here lies somewhere between the de-militarized zone and the industrial sector so the only sea view is through binoculars. I have pre-paid to get onto a 3 day/2 night self-drive 4WD tour of the island which will probably collapse into some booze-fuelled jaunt through the island in a knackered Land Cruiser, alcoholic dread pushing me further towards the abyss. Should be fun. I've remembered to bring bug-spray which I can always drink when conversation runs dry.
Beyond this I will travel to Tasmania. Back to cooler climes and wet weather. This will give me the opportunity to repack my rucksack again, being one of my favourite pastimes.
My first port of call was Airlie Beach. I had fantasized about this being like Mission Beach in the North which was empty, white, and beautiful. Instead I got a larger town with no beach but a big marina where we boarded the vessel which was to take us around the Whitsunday group of islands.
I estimated that the ratio of Brits (mainly English from the North, oddly enough) and Irish to the Aussies here was 50:1. I'm not such a cultural snob that this matters a great deal to me, though non-English birds are a lot nicer IMO, but it gave the whole town an unpleasant feeling of being in the Balaerics. Too many Happy Hours gives rise to lairy and pissed Englishmen and I wanted to be rid of the place.
The following day I got my wish and I boarded Her Majesty's Ship Tongarra. This paint-peeling tub of a catamaran was comfortable and well crewed so I had a good time. The Whitsundays really are pretty with there being decent beaches on the larger islands made from the softest white sand you could hope to see. I felt as if I was in a Nestle Bounty commercial.
On the first night I drank too much rum and so the following day, rising from my stupor, I felt extremely queasy as the boat rolled and pitched. Naturally by blowing chunks overboard I was made the subject of degrading and unamusing taunts which I weathered with aplomb. I did enjoy my time on the boat and was not ill again, mainly because the skipper said the best way to avoid sea-sickness was to have a drive of the boat which I did. Good fun, that. I was a little sad to get off the boat as I had struck up a friendship with the skipper who was a Kiwi.
The other people on the boat were crazy or not interested in talking to me. I got on with a group of 4 Irish lads, one of whom was interested in cricket which I said to him seemed odd given where he's from. He loves the game and so I had someone I could bore for hours with my cricket bluffing. There was also a young guy there who was in his gap year so he must have been 20 or 21. He was filled with that wide-eyed sense of wonder at everything and truly believed that he will change the world, as one does when they leave university. He'll learn. I enjoyed correcting his use of the word "awesome" to describe everything. The moon landings were awesome. The miracle of a fertilized egg becoming a person is awesome. The infinite universe is awesome. Sand crabs are not. They are merely "cool".
I had one more evening in Airlie Beach to wait for my night bus South to Agnes Water/1770. The bus lurched through the night and in between waking dreams I got about 10 mins sleep so when I arrived at 0930 the following day I was my usual sparkling and charming self.
Agnes Water is very close to 1770 and was only connected to the main highway with a bitumen road a few years ago. As a consequence it is tiny and quiet which suited me perfectly as I needed to recover from the ravages of booze, sea sickness, and lack of sleep. I walked around some of the little beaches and inspected the rock pools where I gazed at the tiny critters living in them. I even managed to spot a big crab in its hole and threw a couple of small barnacles down at him. He would then smash the barnacle shell with his claw and eat its flesh. Wouldn't want to step on him, then.
Rejuvenated and refreshed I took another bus to Hervey Bay, a large non-descript town that acts as the gateway to Fraser Island. My hostel here lies somewhere between the de-militarized zone and the industrial sector so the only sea view is through binoculars. I have pre-paid to get onto a 3 day/2 night self-drive 4WD tour of the island which will probably collapse into some booze-fuelled jaunt through the island in a knackered Land Cruiser, alcoholic dread pushing me further towards the abyss. Should be fun. I've remembered to bring bug-spray which I can always drink when conversation runs dry.
Beyond this I will travel to Tasmania. Back to cooler climes and wet weather. This will give me the opportunity to repack my rucksack again, being one of my favourite pastimes.