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What a horrible horrible way to start my New Zealand travels… arriving at Auckland international airport at 2.30a.m. with a chest infection and stinking cold.

I always knew I’d be arriving late, but had the flight not been delayed by 4 hours, I would have at least been able to say hello to the people I’d be sharing a dorm room with rather than being ushered into an anonymous space in the dark at 3am.

I’d booked a bed in a dorm room at the Kiwi Airport Hostel on the grounds that it was cheap and close to the airport as I need to go back the next day to meet Oli when he landed. I’ll never make that mistake again. On your first night in a new country never stay anywhere with either the words “airport” or “hostel” in the title.

I didn’t have the heart to turn the light on in the room, but the street light filtered through the thin curtain provided just about enough light for me to be able to about make out 4 other bodies in the room.

I headed in the general direction I was ushered towards and found an empty bed. I just dumped my bags and got straight into bed. Great. Some fucker had stolen my pillow. I pressed a button to illuminate my mobile phone (the modern man’s torch) and shone it around the room to try to identify the pillow thief. I narrowed my investigations down to 2 suspects, but due to the awkward way they both had their duvets over their heads, there wasn’t enough evidence for me to warrant waking up either of them. I just rolled up my jumper to act as a make-shift piloow and pulled the cover over me.

Then it started. A violent uncontrollable coughing fit. I tried to swallow it out, but it was no good. 20 minutes later, I was still going and heard angry sighs from different direction in at least 3 different pitches so I was pretty sure I’d woken up everyone in the room. There was so sign of my coughing letting up. I just need to get out. So I grabbed all my stuff and got the hell out of dodge.

Now at 3.30am, I had left the hostel and at great expense, checked myself into a hotel room so that I could continue my coughing fit in private. By the time I eventually got to sleep, it was light outside and check-out time only hours away. I think the only time people would ever check themselves into a hotel and spend less time there than I did that night would be if you’d just picked up something from the red-light district.

I spent most of the next day back in the airport terminal awaiting Oli’s arrival, drinking potentially fatal quantities of caffeine and forever blowing my nose on the toilet roll I’d taken from the hotel last night (along with soap, shower gel, tea bags, instant hot chocolate sahets and anything else that was free-to-take to justify to the expense of staying there). I was feeling crap and the news that Oli’s flight was delayed by 2 hours was massively annoying as it meant he would arrive after the van hire place closed. That meant I’d have to pick it up myself then we’d have to drive back the next day to get him added as a driver.

So I picked up the van, my home for the next 3 weeks, had another couple of cups of coffee and then went back to the airport to pick Oli up.

From New Zealand

After an accidental detour round the suburbs, wastelands and industrial parks of Auckland we arrived in the city centre and parked up at the YHA where i’d booked a twin share room for the night so that only Oli would have to suffer my coughing fits.

OK i’m finally catching up with by blogging. Now it’s time for a very different kind of adventure; exploring New Zealand and going to extremes in a camper van with Oli and Gayle. I been trying hard to get the blog up to date and I’m finally getting there. The new banner at the top of my web site is a real unedited photo from the base of Treble Cone mountain New Zealand…. Looks amazing, doesn’t it. And the van in the photo is our camper (and our home). It’s actually the second camper van as we had to get the first one replaced. Find out why soon on thewoz.co.uk!!

From New Zealand

Just one more stop before I would hit my final destination in Australia; Mission beach. I stopped off at Mission Beach for one reason. It was the best place to do extreme white water rafting. Mission beach is arguable also the best place in Australia to Skydive from for the views of the Great Barrier Reef but I was saving this adrenaline hit for New Zealand.

As I checked into the luscious “Backpacker resort”, I realised this was the first time in a quite while I was on my own again. I would most likely be seeing Morten and Stein and Sarah and Harriot in Cairns but they were going straight there.

I didn’t really meet anyone in Mission beach, mostly because I didn’t make any kind of effort to. I endulged myself with with a delicious rare Kangaroo steak and then got an early night in anticipation of white water rafting the next day.

I not sure I was really in the right mindset for white-water rafting. It would certainly be a nice induction to the my forthcoming extreme adventures in New Zealand, but after being overwhealed by the natural beauties of Australia as I worked my way up the coast (I am of course referring to the lush landscapes and scenery, not just the women), white water rafting just seemed a bit too much like hard work.

Nevertheless it was a good day. I screamed like a girl as we made our way down some of the steeper rapids (grade 5 if that means anything to you) and as I’d chosen the “extreme” package, our group got thrown down a rapid WITHOUT a raft. I was submerged underwater for about 10 seconds which doesn’t sound like long, but when you can’t get your breath and your body is being constantly thrown against rocks, it feels like a lifetime. We also jumped off a 20’ rock which was scarier than it should have been.

From End of Aus

From End of Aus

After the rafting, I slipped the driver of the coach $10 to take me all the way to Cairns where I would spend my last 2 nights.

The Hostel that I was staying at in Cairns was probably the nicest I’d stayed at so far. I splashed out to treat myself to my own room, although needn’t had bothered as I spent so little time there. As chance would have it Morten and Stein checked in at the same time as me.

My time in Cairns was spent drinking, watching live music, chilling by the lagoon, getting my hair cut at a dodgy barbers and drinking copious amounts of coffee. I met up with Sarah and Harriot on the second night who had just come back from a 2 day cape tribulation tour.

I really wanted to head to Cape Tribulation and do some more diving on the Great Barrier Reef but alas, I had run out of time in Australia. I could have easily spent weeks longer.

And that brings me to the end of my adventures in Australia. If you missed it in my previous post, here is the video which shows some of the highlights of the trip.

I miss you all loads. Love the woz.

The name of the island came about because of the apparent “magnetic” effect it had on the ship’s compass of Captain Cook as he passed the island when sailing up the east coast of Australia in 1770. People have since explored the general area of Magnetic Island with various instruments to discover whatever it was magnetic like Cook experienced, but nothing has been discovered. I did wonder though, if this place was a source of inspiration for the creators of the TV show, “Lost”.

I wasn’t planning to go to Magnetic Island as I only had one night free and it seemed like a wasted journey. I already had my accommodation booked in Townsville, the mainland connection to the Island. However several people had already told me that Townsville was just a big army town and a bit of a dump. This didn’t put me off though, it sounded just like Colchester, my birthplace and spiritual home. But Sarah and Harriot who I’d been travelling with for about a week now were going, James and Miranda were going, and Morten and Stein were going, so Magnetic Island seemed like the right move.

Yet again, it was another beautiful day (the sunshine state living up to it’s name), and just the ferry crossing over was enough to make the it worthwhile. I mostly chilled out on the beach once we got there and slept off a hours worth of my monster hangover from the Whitsunday after-partylast night.

By evening I was feeling a little more sociable and had a couple of drinks on the beach-fronted dining / drinking area out the back of our accommodation. If I was on the west coat, this would have been an idyllic location to watch the sun set. But I wasn’t on the west coast; I was on the east coat. However, as the sun set somewhere on the other side of the world, the skies in front of us were kaleidoscopic. Ever minute, the colours changed. It was spectacular to watch.

From End of Aus

Just after I finished eating an awesome curry, something unexpected happened. Out of nothing, a full moon rose over the Horizon, leaving a million mile reflection across the sae all the way to the shore in front of us. I’ve never seen the moon rise over the horizon, or move with such pace. The stars and the somehow seem bigger and brighter in the southern hemisphere.

From End of Aus

I slept well that night in a lovely little beach hut on the boulevard of beach huts.

It was a long day of travelling and we arrived to deep purple skies in Airley beach just before 7pm. The weather had been absolutely beautiful today. Nice and warm and not a cloud in the sky.

Earlier, we had a stop-off on the bus to do barefoot bowls. It’s pretty much exactly what it says in the tin. Bowling on a green without shoes on. A new spin on an old game by the bowling clubs to make it seem trendy to get young people involved, apparently quite popular in Australia. It was great fun, pottering around in the sun, drinking a beer and most importantly, winning. Me and my bowls partner kicked ass. Not that I’m competitive or anything.

It turned out that the couple whose ass we kicked were going to be on my boat for my Whitsundays trip tomorrow. I prayed that the weather would hold for sailing trip and was optimistic because the 5 day forecast looked good!

When we arrived in Airely beach, before checking into the hostel, I needed to check-in for tomorrow’s 3 day/2 night Whitsunday adventure dive trip. James and Miranda (the Canadian couple whose ass I kicked at bowling) and myself all set down to watch the “induction” video for our boat. I just couldn’t wait to hit the ocean. I hadn’t dived since Mexico in 2004 and was really excited to be doing it again. For me, diving is the closest I think a person can ever get to flying; being able to move in all directions whilst exporing another world under the water. I’m excited just writing about I now.. “Powerplay”, the catamaran I would be boarding tomorrow was the fastest on the waters and as such was one of the few that offered diving the great barrier reef. Oh yeah, it was also the only boat to have a hot tub on board. Nice!

I wasn’t sailing until 12pm the next day, so I knew I could have a bit of a lay in, which meant I could have a few drinks tonight. I needed them too, since we arrived at a hostel with beds that weren’t made, a random dubious puddle of “water” on the floor and crap all over the room.

We went out to Morocco’s which I now realised was a chain of clubs owned by the Koala Hostels. I drunk a lot of beer and ended up losing my voice screaming in support of Jess who entered a special contest happening in the club that night, much like the one in Byron Bay! Oh dear, how I’ve regressed.

From Whitsundays

I woke up the next morning with a mild to moderate hangover, quickly cured by virtue of the fact that it was an absolutely beautiful day and i would soon be diving. After buying some essential supplies; Sunglasses, a hat, sun-tan cream and beer for the trip, I headed for the Harbour.

I was greeted by one of the “Powerplay” crew, Erril, or Ezza as he preffered to be known. The first thing he asked me was if I minded if he called me “wozza”, which of course was fine!

I was also pleased to see 4 people I already knew ready to board the boat; Morten and Stein, the Norwegian guys I met in Byron Bay and James and Miranda, the couple from my bus, whose ass I kicked at bowling yesterday as I may have already said.

From Whitsundays

The crew of the Powerplay were absolutely amazing. Ezza was the most fantastic and enthusitatic dive instructor I’ve ever met, heavily educated and qualified in all things that live and happen underwater. His partner in crime and our skipper, Nathan, had a broad and deep knowledge of this region, it’s history and a plethora on maritime knowledge. Together they were a great comedy duo.

The 3rd and final member of the crew was Becks, the lovely Yorkshire lass who prepared our meals, cleaned all are equipment and was generally just lovely.

From Whitsundays

Once we had set sail (or rather turned on the engines), the crew gave the 16 of us the usual orientation and safety briefing. The most important rule was making sure you signed in on the boat after a dive trip. The penalty for non-compliance was being made to eat a spoonful of vegemite. Well I was damn sure that wasn’t going to be me!

On the first dive that afternoon, we saw 2 huge Stingrays, the very same creatures that put an end to the life of one of Australia’s greatest ambassador’s, Steve Irwin. Death by Sringray was such an unjust way for him to go. I’m sure he would have much rather had had his head bitten clean-off by an angry croc. Rest easy, Steve.

From Whitsundays

From Whitsundays

I was really keen to do a night-dive whilst on board as I hadn’t done one before and it sounded cool and scary so I asked Ezza if we could. He said it was a definite possibility if there were enough qualified divers interested. Morten, one of the Norwegian guys was also very interested, and the other 2 qualified divers, a Brtish couple Jonny and Nina were also interested but Nina was a little bit scared to do it so would need some convincing. In any case, if were were to do a night dive it would be tomorrow night.

After a great hearty buffet dinner lovingly prepared by Becks, we all sat in the main cabin and watched the photos and videos that the crew had taken of us both above and below water from earlier in the day on the big projector wall.

Nathan, the skipper, also offered us the option of saling over to Whitehaven beach this this evening which would mean we could watch the sun rise over the beach in the morning. He said that we would be the only people on the beach as none of the other boats were fast enough to get over there this evening. It would mean a 5.30am start so it had to be consencus decision by all of the 16 passengers. I for one was mad keen to do it and as fortune would have it, everyone else was too!

I was a little bit disoriented when I awoke to the sounds of “Holiday” by Madonna at 5.40am. I had slept like a baby on the calm waters though so getting out of bed wasn’t too much of a chore.

As Ezza taxi’d us from the boat to the shore it the dingy, it was still very dark, but with the faintest tinge of orange just above the horizon. We walked 10 minutes though the woods in-land to the lookout to watch the sun rise. And it was the most spectualr sunrise I’ve ever seen. Every photo I took with my crappy point-and-click camera was postcard perfect.

From Whitsundays

From Whitsundays

From Whitsundays

After watching the sunrise, we messed around on the beach, Becks took loads of great photos and then about 9am we headed back to the boat for breakfast.

From Whitsundays

From Whitsundays

From Whitsundays

Myself and the other qualified divers went diving straight after breakfast which was very “refreshing”. By that I mean bloody cold. No Stingrays this time, but lots of tropical fish and the est variety of coral I’ve seen.

After the dive I jumped into the hot hub. And I forgot to sign back onto the boat. Oh dear. In an old post I had this to say about vegemite “I don’t see what all the fuss is about”. Well try swallowing a heaped table spoon full. I gagged and nearly threw up twice. You can see my reaction to it in my “Moments in Australia video”.

Much of the afternoon was lost just relaxing, drifting in and out of consciousness and soaking up the sun and the sights of the beautiful Whitsunday Islands and the brilliant blue sea and skies in the nets on the front of the boat. Occasionally, I’d have a splash around in the water and do some snorkeling, always making sure I was first to sign back in!.

From Whitsundays

Later in the day, Jonny and Nina decided they were up for the night dive, so it was definitely on!!! What made the whole thing so exciting was that neither myself nor Morten nor Jonny or Nina had ever done a night-dive before. It was the first time for all of us. As it started to get dark, Ezza gave us a briefing on how to use the flashlight and what would be different from a day dive. We were all so anxious and nervous and eager. It was great.

From Whitsundays

From Whitsundays

With our glowsticks on our backs and flashlights in hand, we did a front flip into the water. The descent was pretty scary. I could only see a foot or so in front of me and I was scared the ground would creep up on me. As we descended, the only light that could be seen was from our flashlights and glowsticks, I felt like I was in the movie, “The Abyss”.

And then the ocean floor came into view, I started to orientate myself and suddenly it became incredibly tranquil. Everything looked and felt so different. It was like doing my first dive all over again. The Highlights of the dive were seeing the glowing shrimp and a sleeping reef shark! Once we were back on the boat we were all on such a high.

From Whitsundays

After the night dive, the 4 of us, jumped in the piping hot water of the hot tub, with only our glow green sticks and the moon providing any light. We cracked open our beers and toasted to the “Powerplay extreme diving team”.

From Whitsundays

After eating another fantastic meal with all the meat cooked on the BBQ at the front of the boat. Same as yesterday, after dinner we had a few drinks and watched all of the photos and videos that the crew snapped through the day. I got to relive my vegemite experience over again as we all watched the video. Yuck!

It had been a long day and by 11am, everyone was about ready for bed. As I layed down on my side, I looked out to sea to and saw the ocean twinkle as the moonlight reflect little sparks on the water. I closed my eyes and thought “this has been a perfect day”. And it really had been.

The next morning in our final dive we saw a huge Manta Ray which really was was the icing on the cake.

As we said goodbye and thanked the crew when we disembarked on the mainland, I thought along with everyone else I’m sure that we really couldn’t have asked for a better crew. They told us how much they really enjoyed the trip with our group too and I think they genuinenly meant it becase Becks and Ezza told us they were going to come to the afterparty which is something they never do.

When I checked back into the Hostel, I had a much needed showed and then lay down for a couple of hours.

As I lay down, I had my MP3 player on a random shuffle. As I reflected on the memories of the trip, The song “Yesterday went to soon” by Feeder started playing. I’d probably heard the song a hundred times before but never had the lyrics been so Poignant.

“Wish I could show you.
Wish you could see through my eyes
Tomorrow shines through
But I’m missing yesterday”.

I thought of all the people (probably you if you’rereading this) that I wished I could have shared the experience with. And as I listened to that song, i replayed in my mind the highlights of yesterday and got that feeling nervous excitement mixed with adrenaline that you get before a first date or the momnts before your exam results or that split second before you jump. Normally it just lasts a m9mrnt, but today, it just didn’t stop. The photos and videos i’ve posted here don’t do the experience any justice.

As I read back on what I just wrote, I realise it does sound a little bit wet, but today I don’t care. I was completely humbled by the experiences of the last couple of days. It was the highlight of my trip. Just Epic.

At the after-party later that night, I got so incredibly drunk. i thought everyone was as messed up as me and wouldn’t notice, but the next day about 5 people said to me “wozza, you were sooooooo wasted last night”. Whoops. I don’t remember much. I remember doing handstands on the dance floor and trying to dance on my hands. I remember Sarah and Harriot pulling me away from the Burger joint as I tried to start a fight with 6 guys that were all about 7’ foot (thanks, girls!)…. Everything else is a bit of blur.

From Whitsundays

From Whitsundays

I do remember saying goodbye to Ellie and Jess and was really sad to be leaving them. I’d been travelling with them for over a week which is quite a lot in travelling time.

The Whitsunday Island trip was the highlight of my East Coat travels. The memories of the people I met on the boat, the diving, the sunrise, the crew and so much else are going to stick with me.

Right, time for another bus journey, methinks.

It’s probably fair to say I was slightly dubious about the “Outback” stay when I booked the trip way back when I was in Sydney. I didn’t really have much choice in the matter.; The cattle station in Kroombit was a mandatory stop-off for the bus. It breaks up the trip between Harvey Bay and Airlie beach (the gateway to the Whitsundays) but I was half-tempted to hop on an Overnight Greyhound bus instead\s, just to avoid it. Well, I’d dead glad that I didn’t.

An early start from Harvey Bay meant that we arrived at the Cattle station at about 2pm. A freshly slaughtered cow was already sizzling away on the BBQ when we arrived. And a big fat slice of it in a bun set me up nicely for the afternoon.

There were a number of activities on offer. I decided to go horse riding. I’d never been on a horse before. The closest I’d ever been was riding a camel in the Sahara dessert in Morocco. Whilst that was one of the most memorable experiences of my life, it was more like riding in a carriage on the “camel train”; I didn’t really have any control over the direction of the camel. So I was really looking forward to riding a horse.

After a quick lesson on “how to drive a horse”, I was dead excited to be doing the goat muster. I got put on a horse called Lambert. I loved Lambert. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get him to turn left. He just shrugged me off whenever I tried. I soon learnt though that a left turn could be achieved by spinning him 270 degrees right, so to all intents and purposes, he was fully functional.

From The Outback

With the late afternoon sun low in the sky, the long shadows and deep orange and blue colours made for a pretty spectacular hour on horseback. It felt like Brokeback mountain except I had to wear a silly riding helmet rather than a cool Stetson. Oh and without the gayness.

From The Outback

From The Outback

From The Outback

Once we’d mustered all of the goats, we stepped off our horses in preparartion for the goat rodeo. In teams of 3, we had to catch a goat let loose in a ring (the role of the catcher), flip the goat on it’s side (the role of the flipper) and dummy brand the goat (the role of the brander) in the fastest possible time. The team before us “Goat Busters” took nearly 3 minutes trying to catch the goat.

I conceived the name for our team “goat in 60 seconds” and I was determined to live up to our name.

I was asked “what kind of goat would you like?”.
“A slow one”, I replied.
“Yeah I bet you do! large or small”
“An old one”, I said.
“OK, I’ve got the perfect goat for you”.

The goat that the put in the ring, oblisously as a joke was the tiniest cutest little thing you’ve ever seen, but it hadn’t developed horns yet, so there was no way you would catch the little bastard. They changed our goat to a generic looking “Ford Focus” kind of goat. It didn’t look that quick, but you never really knew what was under the hood.

Anyway, our catcher caught the goat by the horns really quickly, I then flipped it (or more accurately body-slammed it) on it’s side in style and as the brander made his mark, the clock stopped at 21 seconds. Needless to say we won the Goat rodeo.

After dinner (which was naturally more beef), there was a mechanical bull contest. I scored a pretty respectable 19 bucks. The winning girl scored 22 bucks, so my score was pretty respectable. Did I say that already? In any case, I faired much better than the last time I did it a few years back. It must have been my new ski seasoned thighs that provided me with the extra leg-gripping strength.

A couple of beers later, we played a few games around the fire that I won’t describe in detail here, but if you’ve watched my “Moments in Australia” video, you’ll get an idea of the tone of them!

I really enjoyed the time at the cattle station and after Byron Bay and Fraser Island, it was nice to just spend a day without being covered in sand.

The day began in Hervey Bay at 6.00am. In preparation for the Fraser Island adventure, we had a briefing at 6.50am on “dingo safety” and “4×4 beach driving”.

In my opinion, a dingo is about as dangerous as a West Highland White Terrier, but over the years there have been cases of children getting attacked by dingos and of course there’s that famous story (made into a film film starring Meryl Streep) of the woman who claimed that “A dingo ate my baby”, so I guess they have to inform you of the risks and how to be “dingo safe”.

I was booked on a 3-day 4×4 self-drive Fraser Island camping Safari, meaning, you’re divvied up into groups of about 8 people given a suggested itenary, shopping list and 4×4 vehicle and off you go! Suprisingly there weren’t many people in the room who passed all of the neccasary criteria to drive – have a driving licence, being over 21 and (and this is where the Americans and Canadians fall down) able to drive a manual transmission car. There were 3 groups and in my group, it was only me and another girl who were eligible to drive. I was secretly quite smug about this because I wanted to spend as much time as possible behind the wheel driving through creeks and over dunes.

It turns out the Caroline, the other driver had also lived in Limehouse for the last few years and worked just down the road from me in Fleet street. It’s a small world and in getting to know some of the other people in the group, it was about to get smaller.

At the back of the convoy of three, I drove our massive 4×4 beast to the “shed” to load up with camping / cooking equipment and receive further instructions on driving the truck and how and when to switch between 2WD and high and low ration 4WD. Next stop was the supermarket. To load up on food and consumables for the 3 days camping, I suggested that we buy Deli ham. Caroline laughed and remarked “we’re not in London anymore, darling!”. Fine, so I bought the cheapest processed ham I could find. It was so cheap and full of shit, it wasn’t even called ham. It was “Sandwich Slice”.

From Fraser Island

On the Ferry crossing to Fraser Island, we deflated our tires to 25psi as per the instructions and found a handy map of Fraser island in the tube that contained the tyre deflator. When we got to Fraser Island, Caroline and I played a round of “scissors, papers, stone” to determine who would do the initial afternoon driving. I won so started driving us through the rugged inland tracks of Fraser Island.

From Fraser Island

Beach driving was only permitted 3 hours before and 3 hours after low tide. At this time of the month that meant around 8pm to 2pm. As it was just after midday when we hit the Island, this would mean no beach driving today, which was somewhat disappointing… Nevertheless the inland roads were pretty extreme, it reminded me a little of when I did a landrover experience thing in the UK where a professional off-road driver(?) drives you up hills with exteme gradients and tilts the thing onto 2 wheels.

From Fraser Island

It was a beautiful afternoon when we arrived at the postcard perfect Lake Mackenzie. I played a bit of Frizbie on the beach, caught a few rays and had a quick dunk and then quickly came out as the water was very cold. I was feeling unusually energetic and asked it anyone felt like a run around the lake (which I guestimated to be about 3 to 4km). Jon, the only American guy in the group was up for it. So we set off. Jon set the pace which was a little fast but not uncomfortably so.

As we started to break away from the main beach, the footprints of those here before started to disappear until all that was an unblemished floor of sand around the crystal blue waters of the lake. About 1.5Km to 2km into the run, we realised that the lake was bigger than it appeared from the beach, with a whole “secret” section, hidden behind bush and trees. We got to a point where we needed to commit to keep going or turn back. We kept going. Then we got to a point where we could no longer walk around the outside of the lake due to a thick bush. Determined not to let the lake beat us, we attempted to cross this section through the lake. I hoped that the lake would be shallow enough for us to wlak though as I had my MP3 player on me. We took off our T-shrts and started to wade through. With my hands holding my Tshirt and MP3 player high above my head, I was already up to my chest (and Jon up to his shoulders) in water and we weren’t quite half way through. But the depth held, and we were able to finish the crossing and carry on.

You remember I used to be seriously into my running. Although I may have lost my fitness and put on a few pounds since I had to stop, I still enjoy a good scenic run. And this run on this day is one that I’ll never forget.

In the final quarter of the run, I’d fallen into the groove of the pace set by Jon, but he was paying the price a heavy price for it! I knew he could make it though and as we ran towards the beach where we started, we had a couple of cheers and then I through down my T-shirt and ran into the lake…. And never has water so cold felt so good.

From Fraser Island

It was now about 3.30pm and Caroline took over the driving duties as we made our way to our camp site. As we were all chatting and getting to know each other in the vehicle, I was talking to an awesome girl, Ellie about Byron Bay, as it turned out we were there at the same time. The subject of the Cheeky Monkey’s bar came up and the wet T-shirt contest.

At this point, Ellie didn’t know that I had topless photos of her on my camera, but to be fair, neither did I. It was only after she told me that she was the winner on the night that I was there, that the pieces of the puzzle all fell into place. We reviewed the photos on my camera and sure enough, there she was! Everyone else in the truck reviewed them too.

We had some loose directions for our camp site written on a piece of paper but couldn’t see the site on the map. By 4.30pm we were a bit lost. We had come to the end of the road and all that was ahead of us was ocean. We asked a couple of people for directions and from what we were able to gather was that the camp site was just 5km away if we took the beach road or a good hours drive if we took the inland roads. It would soon be dark, so this was not an easy decision. We had been strictly instructed NOT to drive on the beach after 2pm as the water would be too high, but the alternative would be risking getting more lost and pitching tents in the dark. We opted for the beach drive.

The tide was quite high and the waves were washing under the tyres in some areas. This wasn’t ideal. We had to cross a couple of dubious creeks and after driving nearly 4km and seeing the waves almost lapping the dunes, we wondered whether we should turn back. But we pressed on…. Everyone could tell from the absence of conversation that everyone else was maybe a little paniced and maybe a little bit stressed, not least of all Caroline who was driving our van. At least we had all stuck together and were still driving the 3 trucks as a convoy.

And there it was in front of us. Across a creek with a big drop-off was the sign for our campsite. The dropp-off and climb-out of the creek was at least 2’ and we had come too far to turn back now…. We had to cross the creek. Everyone screamed as the van dropped and then immediately climbed up at a 60 degree angle, but we made it, alive and unharmed!

In the truck behind us, there was a miscommunication between Rob the drive and Chris the navigator. As we turned to watch them cross the creek we had just crossed, their vehicle accelerated. Chris had said to Rob “DON’Tbomb it”. All Rob heard was “Bomb it”. We watched their van take off as it jumped out of the creek. Fortuneately, it landed on it’s wheels.

Later I realised the why we couldn’t find our camp-site on the map. We were using a map from 1997.

So we managed to set up camp and erect the tents just before it got dark. Whilst the 2 other groups had opted for simple camp food, we cooked up delicious bolognaise with pasta making the other groups insanely jealous of our delicious food. Yes, delicious.

I’d anticipated that 6 bottles of beer and a bottle of wine would be enough for the 2 nights we we be on the Island. By 9.30 on the first night, I was already drinking other peoples alcohol. It was a fantastically drunken end to great day.

I remembered someone telling me a while back that the best place to sleep was in the top box of the truck, so whilst everyone else, started to retire to tents, I snucj into the truck. It was great and he closest thing to a double be I had slept on in a while.

I woke up at 6am the next day feeling particularly good (so I clearly hadn’t had enough to drink the previous night). The panoramic views offered from the windows in the top box of the truck were of a horizon of a sun that had not yet risen.

I was feeling energetic again so went for a run along the beach. No-one else was up yet and as I ran alone north along the eastern beach, . It felt like I had the whole75-mile beach all to myself… and maybe I did. I had a photographic image in my mind of the sun rising above the water behind a silhouette of me running along the beach in my mind. Unfortunately there was no epic sunrise today; just a gradual brightening of the sky by a sun stuck behind low cloud. But I felt good for going for a run anyway and as I returned to camp, others were starting to stir.

Once we’d all finished packing up camp, and the trucks were loaded, we set off driving north along the beach (the tide was thankfully much lower now). The weather had cleared and now with us leading the convoy, all I could see ahead on me was endless beach and ocean. I was thankful to be here on the Island at this time of year because I knew in the summer, the beach would be more like a 4×4 highway.

The eastern beach was packed full of scenic stop-off’s; we walked though the beautiful Ely Creek, snapped some cool photos of the shipwreck, climbed to the top of Indian Head to watch Whales and paddled in the visually striking Champagne Pools, a natural lagoon, created from the overspill of the waves lasing against the huge rocks between the beach and the ocean at this part of the island.

From Fraser Island

From Fraser Island

From Fraser Island

Shortly after we set up camp in the afternoon, it started to rain. And it never let up. So for the second evening on the Island, we were cold, wet and sandy. Trying to cook on a small gas stove in the rain with no shelter was not without it’s challenges. This is the price we paid for choosing to set up camp by the beach rather then go to an inland sheltered campsite. It was horrible.

I slept in the truck again, but tonight wasn’t alone in doing so.

In the morning, it was still raining. We put the wet tents into the wet van and drove in the wet to Lake Wabi, very different to Lake Mackenzie but equally as beautiful (except for that fact that the weather was… well…wet).

From Fraser Island

As fortune had it, whilst driving to the Kingfisher Bay to get the ferry back to Hervey Bay, a dingo stopped in the road and posed for photos.

Leave only footprints. Take only memories.

From Fraser Island

As we crossed back to the mainland, I was sad that the adventure was drawing to a close but very much looking forward to the prospect of dry clothes and a warm shower.

It was only when I returned to the Hostel that I was fully aware that everything I own got covered in sand. Every orafice of my body was filled will sand. Seven showers later and it was still falling out my ears. I was thankful to be spending 2 more nights in Harvey Bay as it meant for the first time in a while, I would be able to sleep in the next day.

I found out the next day that there isn’t really much to do in Hervey Bay (except go to Fraser Island), but it was nice to have a chill-out day. Jon (British Jon, not the aforementioned American Jon) was travelling north to south rather than south to north and I found out he had done his Whitsunday’s trip on the same boat that I would be doing my trip on. He showed me the photos which looked amazing although he was unfortunate enough to have grey skies for the whole trip. I really hoped I had good weather for my trip.

Later that evening, myself and the guys/girls that were still around went to a bar / club called Morocco’s. I think there were only other 5 people in there. It was pretty tragic. I was speaking to a guy in there who had just come back from a horrific Fraser Island experience, stuck in a truck full of girls that were scared of driving over anything that wasn’t tarmac and I realised how fortunate I was to have such a great group. The Fraser Island trip had been the highlight of the East coast adventure so far.

From Fraser Island

That night, we said goodbye to Jon but Ellie, Jess, Sarah and Harriot who I met here, would be on my bus tomorrow though for the next part of the adventure. It was nice to have some travelling buddies, nicer still that they were all top top girls.

The next proper stop-off on my journey would be Hervey Bay, the gateway to Fraser Island, the largest sand island in the world, but it’s a 300km journey so it was broken up with some short stops and an overnight in Brisbane.

The first stop after leaving Byron Bay was an activity break to go zorbing!!!!. Veronica, my Whistler buddy, was telling me that I should do it whilst I’m out here.

I didn’t know what zorbing was before she told and the chances are you don’t either, so let me explain it as it was explained to me. At some point in the late 80’s some old crazy bored British inventor thought it would be a good idea to roll downhill inside of huge double-hulled PVC sphere (a zorbus), so he started making Zorbus’s (or maybe Zorbi??).

From Byron Bay

Warm water is poured into the Zorbus about 6 inches deep to remove friction as you lay insde in your swim-wear, essentially turning the whole thing into a huge rolling waterslide. Whilst I was stripping down to my boardies, I was approached by 2 stunning 19-year old Canadian girls in Bikinis asking if I wanted to go in the same Zorbus as them. “Hell, yeah!”. And so I rolled down a big hill in a big ball with a screaming wet girl rolling around each side of me. Bonus!

After the awesome zorbing session, we carried on driving towards Brisbane. Welcome to Queensland, the Sunshine state.

I only spent the night in Brisbane and had to leave for an early bus so I didn’t really see much of it at all. Certainly the pace of city seemed slower and more chilled out than Sydney. I got the best value meal of the whole of my trip so far. A rump steak with peppercorn sauce, mashed potato and salad for just $6 (£2.50). I walked back via Queen Street Mall which seemed to me that it would be a great place, to eat drink, cavort, shop, go on a date, reunite with old friends.

I think I would have liked Brisbane if had had stayed longer, but was too excited about getting to Harvey Bay to care.

Between Brisbane and Hervey Bay, we stopped off at Noosa and Rainbow Beach. Rainbow Beach’s name derives from the rainbow-coloured sand dunes which are the highlight of the town. According to the legends of the Kabi people, the dunes were coloured when Yiningie, a spirit represented by a rainbow, plunged into the cliffs after doing battle with an evil tribesman. I was hoping to see some cool violet and green and red sands, but it turns out it’s 74 shades of yellow. Still nice though.

From Fraser Island

It was already dark when we arrived in Hervey Bay. Tomorrow’s 4×4 camping safari could well be the highlight my trip!

Maybe it was because I was out of the hustle and bustle of the city… maybe it was because in Perth and Melbourne I was staying with friends… maybe it was because I hadn’t met any real travelling buddies until now… whatever it was, Byron Bay was the first place during my trip where I felt like a real backpacker and felt really good about being a backpacker.

The 14-hour overnight Greyhound service got me into Byron Bay at 7am in the morning. The Lonely Planet guide book told me 12 hours previously “When Byron Bay is good it’s unsurpassed; long days, blamy weather, endless beaches, delightful accommodation, delectale food, delirious nightlife. But when it’s bad, let’s just say it’s very crowded”. I arrived on a good day. A very very good day. I was still in New South Wales, so the days can be very cold if there is no sun, but today there was not a cloud in the sky. 30 minutes later I shed my jacket. Another 30 minutes later I shed my jumper. Oh what a day it was going to be.

I liked everything about Byron Bay, Australia’s most easterly point. The Hostel on the beach that I was staying at, the people that stayed there, the people that worked there, the town itself with all the cool little café’s bars and boutique shops (and not a Mc Donalds anywhere to be found), the beach, the nature walks and the scenic views From Cape Byron.

From Byron Bay

At 7.30am, I pretty much had the beach to myself as I walked towards Cape Byron. And what I was seeing took my breathe away (could have also had something to do with the bloody great climb!). The views from the lighthouse at the highest point of Cape Byron really were beyond perfection and as you look out to sea, you can actually see Whales and dolphins this time of year. I saw a whale. And then another. Priceless.

From Byron Bay

I got friendly with a couple of Norwegian guys that were staying in my room at the Hostel. We went out later and got very very drunk (my most drunk so far). The town was pretty busy. We had a few drinks at the Hostel before heading out and exchanged travel stories with a very socialable crowd there. Then we went to a bar called “Cheeky Monkeys” which alongside “Cocomangas” is a place that everyone must visit during their stay in Byron Bay. “Cheeky Monkeys” is one of those unashamedly tourist restaurants slash pubs slash clubs that you automatically assume has wet T-shirt contests and pole dancing contests. And you would assume right. For it was wet t-shirt contest tonight.

Whilst my own breasts were too small to qualify, I’m happy to report that an English girl won.

From Byron Bay

The Norwegian guys certainly knew how to drink. I knew that tomorrow morning would be painful. Whilst my better judgement would have told me to go to bed right about the time when I started talking nonsense to strangers and bouncing off walls, beer is in no way conducive to my better judgement, so we hit Cocomangas and after that it all just becomes a bit of a blur.

The next morning after taking a cold shower, cleaning my teeth, vomiting a small amount of Bile and cleaning my teeth again, I hit the beach and slept off my hangover. I really wanted to go surfing today but I was in no fit state at all.

Late in the afternoon, as I waited for the bus to Brisbane, I saw the Norwegians and felt slightly better in the knowledge that they were feeling just as bad as me. It turned out that they were going to be on the same boat as me for the Whitsundays sailing trip I had booked for the following week, so I hadn’t seen the last of them.

I really wished I’d had time to spend a few more days in Byron Bay.

On my own again for the first time since Perth. I was planning on spending 4 days in Sydney but, with coming straight from a ski season in a town which nevers sees the sun, I realised I’d been been perceptually cold for the last 6 months and the prospect of Warmer weather in Queensland seemed prefereable to current weather conditions in Sydney. So I crammed most of my sightseeing into one day day.

I climbed to the top of the harbour bridge for a million dollar view of the city. It was pretty impressive but I’m sure would have been even more so if the weather was better. As the sun set (or more accurately the light gradually dimmed), I made my way back from Circular Quay the bright lights in the darkness made the city seem even more impressive.

From Sydney

Posters and billboards everywhere let me know that it was the Sydney Film Festival. I had no plans and no friends in Sydney at this point so I thought I’d check out what was screening tonight. I ended up choosing to watch a Malyasian film entitled “Love conquers all”. I normally enjoy a good arthouse film, but I must say this was absolutely bollox. I walked out half-way through, something I’ve never done before (although we came pretty close during “Wild Things”, didn’t we, Steve?!) and to my delight, 28 weeks later”, the sequel to “28 days Later” was just about to start in the next screen, so I snuck in. Traveling is most certainly bringing out a more opportunistic part of me.

Anyway, I enjoyed “28 days later” a lot, but thought it’s poor casting let it down. In my view, this sequal far supassed the original. It was absolutely bloody terrifying. I also smirked more than a little bit as I watched the South Colonnade in Canary Wharf get fire-bombed by the US Army. Mwoahahaha.

The next day, I did a day trip to the blue mountains, a rather energetic 3-hour hike round the grand canyon, under waterfalls across gorges and stuff. It was bitterly cold and rainy but I was pleased to be there because the alternative would have been me just sitting around somewhere warm in a Sydney bar or coffee house. As we looked across the valley at the 3 Sisters below, the guide told us the story behind these awesome rock formations. He explained that according to Indigenous Australian Dreamtime legend , the three sisters fell in love with three men from a neighboring tribe, but marriage was forbidden by tribal law. Battle ensued, and the sisters were turned to stone by a witch doctor to protect them, but he was killed in the fighting and no one else could turn them back. I remarked “they were bloody big girls weren’t they”.

From Sydney

When I returned to Sydney in the evening it was absolutely pissing it down with rain, and I wasn’t too disappointed to be leaving tomorrow. Luckily, on my last day in Sydney, the Sun came out (although it was still very cold), so I decided to hit Bondai beach. After wasting a hour or so people watching, I walked along the cliffs from Bondai beach to Coogee beach. A spectacular walk over cliffs and beaches, it was.

Sydney was great, but I was now looking forward to the prospect of warmer weather and meeting some other travelers as I made my way up the coast.