The Endless Summer
I've been busy over the last ten days coming down the east coast of Australia. Unfortunately, Internet is relatively expensive here making it hard to keep up with my posts, but I'll fill you in on what you've missed.
Whitsunday Islands
On a whim I grabbed a flight to Airlie Beach and met an Irish girl on the plane who hooked me up with a ride into town with the bassist from a local band. Airlie Beach itself is a small town with a marina, a mile long strip of hostels, restaurants, bars, travel agents and a small "lagoon" complex of salt water swimming pools. I checked into my "backpacker resort" (It should be noted that Aussies take this backpacking thing really seriously) which was a couple dozen buildings and self-contained cabins filled with dorm rooms amid small gardens and a small stream. The section on the main road consisted of a small office where you can book tours, a nightclub, takeout, bar and Internet cafe surrounding a couple dozen picnic tables constantly filled with people putting back morning, afternoon or evening beers. After touring Airlie (which didn't take very long, I met up with the Irish girl and her boyfriend for drinks at the Irish pub where the bassist's band was playing. Her boyfriend's a coal miner and interestingly enough, they export all there coal to China - funny that. The bar started to fill about midnight as the backpacker resort bars closed and the scene quickly started to resemble a frat party, instinct kicked in and I left. I took it easy the next day, sitting by the lagoon, stocking up on booze (to be explained later) and eventually getting dinner with a German woman I'd met at the lagoon who works in LA for FOX Entertainment.
The Airlie Beach Lagoon
Now, it should be explained, there are only a few options for entertainment in Airlie Beach:
1. Sit by the lagoon
2. Get drunk
3. Take a sailing cruise of the Whitsundays
It's that kind of town. Having thoroughly accomplished 1 & 2 I figured I should go for a sail. The bus met me at 8:00 in the morning and headed to the marina where we were greeted by Josh, our new deckhand. Josh promptly announced that:
1. It was his first day
2. They lost the captain
So far so good. Along with us were a slew of younger people waiting for the "Avitar". There were easily twice as many of them, and each of them had about twice as much booze as were did for their 3 day tour - clearly a party boat. After we found our captain (incidentally she thought she was supposed to have this cruise off and voluntarily was breathalyzed by the marine police a couple hours earlier to make sure she was sober enough to skipper - are you sensing a pattern here?) we were on our way on the "Southern Cross", an America's Cup challenger, with our 2 crew and 12 passengers. Despite the rainy weather the tour was great with a few wet sails, some snorkeling on the islands, a visit to an island resort bar and a rain forest walk. I tried sleeping on deck the first night and though the rain and wind were minor hindrances, the main problem was the echoes over the water of such classics as "Sweet Home Alabama" and "Let it Be" being hopelessly butchered by the drunken morons from the other boat sharing the cove with us. Sadly, though the islands were beautiful I took few pictures as I'd taken my camera for dead due to a plastic bag with an unknown hole, and torrential down pours. Lucky for me though, it sprang back after drying up a couple days later.
Taking in the Whitsundays
Sailing Through the Storm
Platypus Bush Camp (Warning: May not contain actual Platypus)
After Airlie I needed to decompress a bit, and give my liver a rest. I headed south on my newly purchased Greyhound bus pass to a small national park known for the wild platypus. Instead of staying in town at the hostel and taking the packaged tour to the park, I decided to stay at the highly recommended "Platypus Bush Camp" right outside the park. I was picked up at the bus station by a friendly Englishman named Bob and after picking up a case of beer for the camp we were on our way. Not before long, he was telling me his life story including his health concerns, growing up in London during WWII and every detail of all his trips to the U.S. He also filled me in on the local sugar trade as we barrelled through endless sugar cane fields at break neck speed.
Bob was a character, but only the beginning of this adventure. We wound up dirt roads and through feet deep streams running hard from the constant rain. Some places had cars lined up that refused to even try, but Bob just barrelled through saying "I don't know what there problem is," and easily conquered the flows in his little Kia. We finally pulled into the bush camp and he led me to the office to deliver the beer. We wandered down a gravel path past thick palm trees, cisterns and the wooden structures containing crude bathrooms and showers. We neared the office and I smelled a strange, yet vaguely familiar smell as smoke drifted through the palms, and then there he was. "Wazza" was his name. He was pencil thin with a big shaggy beard and clothes which looked like they didn't come off for nobody. I instantly understood what Bob meant when he told me that Wazza was what they referred to as a "bushy character".
Platypus Bush Camp
I bid Bob adieu and Wazza showed me around. I appeared to be the only person there, though I later would meet a couple guys laboring on Wazza's new timber frame house for room and board and an older guy that seemed to be a friend of Wazza's that lived there full time. I got a little cabin to myself which consisted of half walls, a roof and three small cots. There was no electricity, a small open self-cook kitchen (duly warned, I had brought my own food) and a couple entertaining cockatoos in a cage. The place sat right on the bend of a stream which raged with the high water and supposedly contained platypus, though I never saw one. With its remote location, there was wonderful wildlife all around the camp - wild cockatoos, many others birds, crazy bugs, eel-tailed catfish, flying foxes and lizards galore, but sadly no wild platypus so that dream remains unfulfilled. I spent the next two days lying low, hiking up a brilliant gorge, generally trying to stay dry and listening to Wazza ramble on about politics, ecology, the right way to cook rice, cricket and whatever else happened to be on his mind. Unfortunately, I only understood about 1/3 of what he said but that didn't adversely effect my interest level. At the end of my two night stay, Bob came back to take me in for the bus and after another entertaining hour with him I was on my way south again.
The "Wheel of Fire"
Cool Bug in the Lantern Light
Agnes Waters/Town of 1770
After an uneventful overnight in Gladstone to transfer buses, I arrived to Agnes Waters early in the morning, around 10. I hadn't had luck booking a reservation and the two backpacker places in town were booked so I ended up in a little backpacker resort outside of town. The place is great, with small cabins a big public building and a pool. After arriving, we were whisked away on a free tour of town where we were herded into the back of a troop transporter jeep and these guys drove us around and told us about the various tours we could do. Agnes water is a tiny little town with a 6 KM beach and only a few tourists - I had came here solely in search of a surf lesson cause they're the cheapest in the east. Next to Agnes Water is a town called "the Town of 1770" after the first landing of Captain Cook in Queensland. It's a silly name, but it doesn't matter much since only 100 people live there. After the tour I headed to the beach and walked the 6km down it's length, which was mostly deserted, and back. The next day I was battered around in the surf with 15 other eager participants as we took a crash course in surfing. Surfing itself seems not too hard and I got up more than a few times, but the hard part is battling the waves and trying to catch an empty wave. After two hours of learning I was battered, bruised, exhausted and didn't feel too accomplished, so for now surfing glories will have to wait for the next time.
Agnes Water Beach
My final day in Agnes was spent aboard the "Spirit of 1770" which whisked me and 149 other lucky patrons out to Lady Musgrave Island - a coral island near the far south east corner of the great barrier reef. The two hours out in the high speed catamaran mostly involved half the passengers vomiting into little plastic bags and your humble host amusing the members of the upper deck (those that weren't vomiting anyway) by getting periodically soaked and abused by ocean spray. Once on the reef we got an Island walk of the wild life, tours of the reef in glass bottom boats, a seafood lunch and plenty of snorkeling. I saw terns and turtles, held a cucumber and met Bob the monster Cod. Another form of entertainment involved the bus load of Chinese tourists (do they come in any other way? Not in my experience) enjoying the trip with us. I struck up a conversation in Chinese with an older man and then after finishing my snorkel was invited to his family's table and was quickly offered coffee and biscuits. I mainly spoke with the daughter, whose English was superior to the other's, and to make a long story short now have a place to crash in Shanghai the next time I'm through. Man, how I miss the Chinese hospitality! I finished up the cruise drinking a beer with a Hawaiian couple on the aft of the boat while a Chinese man took pictures to document our enjoyment as their family members sat nearby pale and "losing their lunch" so to speak. After bumming a ride and sneaking the Hawaiians into my hostel's pool, we enjoyed some Toohey's and grub at the local pub and exchanged stories of our various travels.
Lady Musgrave Island - Great Barrier Reef
Terns on Lady Musgrave
Apart from that, I've just been chilling in Agnes Waters as it's extremely laid back - the kind of place people just get stuck for weeks on end. My attempts at booking other tours and activities all end in disappointment due to both fully booked tours as well as cancellations from lack of interest - you just can't win sometimes - so I missed the stunt plane flight and the Kayak tour, but I've had a blast hanging out with people around the hostel, seeing the weekend scene at the local pub (including observing a drunken fight in the parking lot (g'day mate!)) and enjoying the quiet beach.
After staying two days longer than planned in Agnes I'm feeling the desire to push on. I like Australia so far and surprisingly am significantly under budget (a penny saved is a penny less in debt as they say), so I hope to extend my stay by a week before heading to New Zealand. Next on to the beautiful and secluded Fraser Island and Rainbow Beach.
Whitsunday Islands
On a whim I grabbed a flight to Airlie Beach and met an Irish girl on the plane who hooked me up with a ride into town with the bassist from a local band. Airlie Beach itself is a small town with a marina, a mile long strip of hostels, restaurants, bars, travel agents and a small "lagoon" complex of salt water swimming pools. I checked into my "backpacker resort" (It should be noted that Aussies take this backpacking thing really seriously) which was a couple dozen buildings and self-contained cabins filled with dorm rooms amid small gardens and a small stream. The section on the main road consisted of a small office where you can book tours, a nightclub, takeout, bar and Internet cafe surrounding a couple dozen picnic tables constantly filled with people putting back morning, afternoon or evening beers. After touring Airlie (which didn't take very long, I met up with the Irish girl and her boyfriend for drinks at the Irish pub where the bassist's band was playing. Her boyfriend's a coal miner and interestingly enough, they export all there coal to China - funny that. The bar started to fill about midnight as the backpacker resort bars closed and the scene quickly started to resemble a frat party, instinct kicked in and I left. I took it easy the next day, sitting by the lagoon, stocking up on booze (to be explained later) and eventually getting dinner with a German woman I'd met at the lagoon who works in LA for FOX Entertainment.
The Airlie Beach Lagoon
Now, it should be explained, there are only a few options for entertainment in Airlie Beach:
1. Sit by the lagoon
2. Get drunk
3. Take a sailing cruise of the Whitsundays
It's that kind of town. Having thoroughly accomplished 1 & 2 I figured I should go for a sail. The bus met me at 8:00 in the morning and headed to the marina where we were greeted by Josh, our new deckhand. Josh promptly announced that:
1. It was his first day
2. They lost the captain
So far so good. Along with us were a slew of younger people waiting for the "Avitar". There were easily twice as many of them, and each of them had about twice as much booze as were did for their 3 day tour - clearly a party boat. After we found our captain (incidentally she thought she was supposed to have this cruise off and voluntarily was breathalyzed by the marine police a couple hours earlier to make sure she was sober enough to skipper - are you sensing a pattern here?) we were on our way on the "Southern Cross", an America's Cup challenger, with our 2 crew and 12 passengers. Despite the rainy weather the tour was great with a few wet sails, some snorkeling on the islands, a visit to an island resort bar and a rain forest walk. I tried sleeping on deck the first night and though the rain and wind were minor hindrances, the main problem was the echoes over the water of such classics as "Sweet Home Alabama" and "Let it Be" being hopelessly butchered by the drunken morons from the other boat sharing the cove with us. Sadly, though the islands were beautiful I took few pictures as I'd taken my camera for dead due to a plastic bag with an unknown hole, and torrential down pours. Lucky for me though, it sprang back after drying up a couple days later.
Taking in the Whitsundays
Sailing Through the Storm
Platypus Bush Camp (Warning: May not contain actual Platypus)
After Airlie I needed to decompress a bit, and give my liver a rest. I headed south on my newly purchased Greyhound bus pass to a small national park known for the wild platypus. Instead of staying in town at the hostel and taking the packaged tour to the park, I decided to stay at the highly recommended "Platypus Bush Camp" right outside the park. I was picked up at the bus station by a friendly Englishman named Bob and after picking up a case of beer for the camp we were on our way. Not before long, he was telling me his life story including his health concerns, growing up in London during WWII and every detail of all his trips to the U.S. He also filled me in on the local sugar trade as we barrelled through endless sugar cane fields at break neck speed.
Bob was a character, but only the beginning of this adventure. We wound up dirt roads and through feet deep streams running hard from the constant rain. Some places had cars lined up that refused to even try, but Bob just barrelled through saying "I don't know what there problem is," and easily conquered the flows in his little Kia. We finally pulled into the bush camp and he led me to the office to deliver the beer. We wandered down a gravel path past thick palm trees, cisterns and the wooden structures containing crude bathrooms and showers. We neared the office and I smelled a strange, yet vaguely familiar smell as smoke drifted through the palms, and then there he was. "Wazza" was his name. He was pencil thin with a big shaggy beard and clothes which looked like they didn't come off for nobody. I instantly understood what Bob meant when he told me that Wazza was what they referred to as a "bushy character".
Platypus Bush Camp
I bid Bob adieu and Wazza showed me around. I appeared to be the only person there, though I later would meet a couple guys laboring on Wazza's new timber frame house for room and board and an older guy that seemed to be a friend of Wazza's that lived there full time. I got a little cabin to myself which consisted of half walls, a roof and three small cots. There was no electricity, a small open self-cook kitchen (duly warned, I had brought my own food) and a couple entertaining cockatoos in a cage. The place sat right on the bend of a stream which raged with the high water and supposedly contained platypus, though I never saw one. With its remote location, there was wonderful wildlife all around the camp - wild cockatoos, many others birds, crazy bugs, eel-tailed catfish, flying foxes and lizards galore, but sadly no wild platypus so that dream remains unfulfilled. I spent the next two days lying low, hiking up a brilliant gorge, generally trying to stay dry and listening to Wazza ramble on about politics, ecology, the right way to cook rice, cricket and whatever else happened to be on his mind. Unfortunately, I only understood about 1/3 of what he said but that didn't adversely effect my interest level. At the end of my two night stay, Bob came back to take me in for the bus and after another entertaining hour with him I was on my way south again.
The "Wheel of Fire"
Cool Bug in the Lantern Light
Agnes Waters/Town of 1770
After an uneventful overnight in Gladstone to transfer buses, I arrived to Agnes Waters early in the morning, around 10. I hadn't had luck booking a reservation and the two backpacker places in town were booked so I ended up in a little backpacker resort outside of town. The place is great, with small cabins a big public building and a pool. After arriving, we were whisked away on a free tour of town where we were herded into the back of a troop transporter jeep and these guys drove us around and told us about the various tours we could do. Agnes water is a tiny little town with a 6 KM beach and only a few tourists - I had came here solely in search of a surf lesson cause they're the cheapest in the east. Next to Agnes Water is a town called "the Town of 1770" after the first landing of Captain Cook in Queensland. It's a silly name, but it doesn't matter much since only 100 people live there. After the tour I headed to the beach and walked the 6km down it's length, which was mostly deserted, and back. The next day I was battered around in the surf with 15 other eager participants as we took a crash course in surfing. Surfing itself seems not too hard and I got up more than a few times, but the hard part is battling the waves and trying to catch an empty wave. After two hours of learning I was battered, bruised, exhausted and didn't feel too accomplished, so for now surfing glories will have to wait for the next time.
Agnes Water Beach
My final day in Agnes was spent aboard the "Spirit of 1770" which whisked me and 149 other lucky patrons out to Lady Musgrave Island - a coral island near the far south east corner of the great barrier reef. The two hours out in the high speed catamaran mostly involved half the passengers vomiting into little plastic bags and your humble host amusing the members of the upper deck (those that weren't vomiting anyway) by getting periodically soaked and abused by ocean spray. Once on the reef we got an Island walk of the wild life, tours of the reef in glass bottom boats, a seafood lunch and plenty of snorkeling. I saw terns and turtles, held a cucumber and met Bob the monster Cod. Another form of entertainment involved the bus load of Chinese tourists (do they come in any other way? Not in my experience) enjoying the trip with us. I struck up a conversation in Chinese with an older man and then after finishing my snorkel was invited to his family's table and was quickly offered coffee and biscuits. I mainly spoke with the daughter, whose English was superior to the other's, and to make a long story short now have a place to crash in Shanghai the next time I'm through. Man, how I miss the Chinese hospitality! I finished up the cruise drinking a beer with a Hawaiian couple on the aft of the boat while a Chinese man took pictures to document our enjoyment as their family members sat nearby pale and "losing their lunch" so to speak. After bumming a ride and sneaking the Hawaiians into my hostel's pool, we enjoyed some Toohey's and grub at the local pub and exchanged stories of our various travels.
Lady Musgrave Island - Great Barrier Reef
Terns on Lady Musgrave
Apart from that, I've just been chilling in Agnes Waters as it's extremely laid back - the kind of place people just get stuck for weeks on end. My attempts at booking other tours and activities all end in disappointment due to both fully booked tours as well as cancellations from lack of interest - you just can't win sometimes - so I missed the stunt plane flight and the Kayak tour, but I've had a blast hanging out with people around the hostel, seeing the weekend scene at the local pub (including observing a drunken fight in the parking lot (g'day mate!)) and enjoying the quiet beach.
After staying two days longer than planned in Agnes I'm feeling the desire to push on. I like Australia so far and surprisingly am significantly under budget (a penny saved is a penny less in debt as they say), so I hope to extend my stay by a week before heading to New Zealand. Next on to the beautiful and secluded Fraser Island and Rainbow Beach.
posted by AJH @ 4:12 AM
1 Comments:
At 7:47 PM,
Space Monkey said…
The flying foxes are awsome. I just read an article and it said they "crash land" into trees. Did you see that? Did you see one hanging upside down? Dig the opposum pic you took as well. Wazza sounds fun.
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