Advertisement
Published: March 3rd 2007
We let the sails fly from our golden ship, a.k.a the Big Dog, and headed north to our first taste of tropical Australia. Thus began our final few weeks in Oz- a busy time of skydiving, sailing and gambling fitted in between episodes with mangoes and run-ins with angry hostel owners . . .
Although we were all glad to be back with the Big Dog (after we split for Fraser), Samwise was seemingly too glad. It was on the long, straight road from Hervey Bay to Town of 1770 that the Big Dog led us off to a lovely spot by the river for lunch. Unfortunately for the rest of us, Samwise was in the driving seat. Before waiting for an opinion - Dunc was asleep in the front, Al and Jona in the back with Lisa and Alex - Sam slammed down the accelerator. For a few seconds we eased across the water. Then came the sound of scraping from underneath us, followed by the sound of spinning wheels. Dazed by this moment of utter madness we opened the doors to find the river running just an inch under us. None of the wheels touched the riverbed.
The Big Dog was fully impaled on a rock.
Panic set in as two Swedish girls and three English boys hopped amongst the dark grey smoke that omitted from the van, shouting obscenities at Samwise. For the first time I saw Sam look sheepish (I'm sure many of our readers have never seen this), all he could repeat is "Sorry I messed up. I don't know what I was thinking".
Luckily we were in Australia. The land of 4x4's and helpful ozzys. He showed up literally two minutes into our trepidation. With yet more smoke, a steel tow rope and a lot of revving, we were free. We drove off with the ever-reliable Duncan restored to control, and the just-about forgiven Samwise in the back.
The town of 1770 has emerged from quiet seaside town to travellers hangout due to the combination of word-of-mouth hype and Lonely Planet recommendation. A man called Greg, the owner of Cool Banana's Hostel- ran things in the town of 1770. The boss. The Don. The Tony Montana of this Australian backwater. Sam and Dunc should have known better than to use the hostels facilities whilst sleeping in the van. They should
The Flight over Brisbane
No need for an aeroplane. Just an athletic Skinny D and a late-afternoon Brisbane skyline. have known when he came into the kitchen every few minutes for an inspection. Maybe they should have known when he patrolled his Hostel with pen and clipboard matching every face to name.
They realised too late. Greg approached Dunc in the Kitchen, cornering him and leaving him with no chance of escape. As Dunc stared into the vacuum of his eyes, Greg barked (a line which has become immortal, a catchphrase for our time in Australia)-
"YOU"RE NOT STAYING HERE!!".
Such an overbearing statement of truth could only be met with, "no, no. No we're not".
Thrown out on the cold streets (well maybe not so cold), the two vagabonds retreated to the Big Dog for the night, Dylan rising from the speakers;
"How does it feel? To be on your own? With no direction home- a complete unknown".
Three days later we could be found passing through the steak capital of Australia, Rockhampton, affectionately known as "Rocky" to locals. We experienced the tropical storms for the first time, crazy bursts of three or four minute showers. The roads got thinner, one lane in either direction. This tested the Big Dogs acceleration to the max, we had
a few hairy moments overtaking and facing oncoming traffic.
One late afternoon we stopped in Townsville, knackered after a days travelling. "Hey look, there’s a bag missing", Sam chuckled. I turned around expecting this to be a joke. I saw Sam’s bag. Duncs bag. No bag. Alec's bag. Bugger.
To cut a long story short the next 24 hours were not much fun. Painstakingly retracing the last 80km towards Ayr, police reports, Insurance claims etc. I didn't find my rucksack. I'm now travelling light.
Before long we had reached Cairns. The last X on the map, it had forever been our ending point, the focus of our journey. By now we had realised that the destination is less important than the journey itself- the "getting there" is all that counts. I was disappointed with Cairns. A confused muddle of travel agents and tacky Asian souvenirs littered the streets. The people that we met brought the fun to Cairns.
There was a remarkable convergence in our hostel of friends that we had met along the way - all of our favourites! We even bumped into a friend from home, Matt - which was surreal to say the
least. Finally Morley, also from Cotham got a plane up to travel with us for our final week. It was impulsive, but I think it paid off as he became an integral part of the team for that time.
One night we hit up the Casino, We watched Michael the Swede lose $90. I thought that my English cautious style of Blackjack would be more rewarding than these Brash Swedes. Two minutes later I realised that it was pretty much a game of luck. I was down to $10, from $50. I went to my old friend Duncan for support; we agreed to go in together. What followed was a flurry of hitting, splitting and doubling - and somehow we were lucky. Five hands down. One of us had won on all of them. We knew when to leave- a Japanese man to our left had just squandered $400 in two hands. Duncan and I left with heavy pockets and lighter hearts.
We sailed the Whitsundays and snorkelled the Great barrier Reef, a "must do" on the east Coast trail. It was astonishingly beautiful, but I can't help feeling that these organised trips are not as much fun
as the spontaneous adventures we went on ourselves. Too many organised tours and your no longer a backpacker/traveller, you become a dreaded tourist!!
We came off
The Habibi at 11am, and headed South at around 3pm. By 2am we had endured nearly 12 hours of straight driving, what’s more the Big Dog was splitting at its seams. The Birstol2Bombay four, Morley and lovely Alex and Lisa made for a tight and sweaty ride. You could feel at least 8 legs on yours at any point!
Completely knackered after a night of little sleep we arrived at the Sunshine Coast, and our spirits were lit up by the prospect of diving from the sky at 14,000 feet. It was fantastic, and hopefully we will be able to show our DVD to as many as possible. I wrote an email home the same day:
The fear never hit us. It was an illusion as my instructor strapped me up to him, the only time it hit home that I was awaiting 60 seconds freefall was at the time of this photo, just after I see Sam fall back to Earth. The first 5 seconds are pure head over heels AHHHHHHHH adrenaline; the next 55 seconds are the most amazing of my life. I felt the feeling of flying; it was the most out of this world feeling ever. Then the parachute came up, I stopped swearing and it was total silence. Suspended in mid air it felt eerily still and peaceful. I could see for miles. As I landed on the beach my legs had the desire to start running. Before long I was on the bottom of a pile of my panting and ecstatic mates. I went to high five Sam - he had been sick!
All in all it was a much more enjoyable and beautiful experience than it was scary- believe it or not! Definitely the single most memorable feeling of my life.
We drove to Brisbane at the optimum 80k/ph for fuel consumption. Then collapsed. We treated to ourselves to a week in an air-conditioned apartment with fresh white sheets and infinite amounts of new towels. We had our own kitchen, two bathrooms, and sofas - the good life! It was a slower paced week which we spent exploring Brisbane, and spending time with our new friends which seemed like old
Biting Sugar cane
I can't remember why we stopped. I just remember somewhere on the road from Ayr to Townsville that we ate some sugar cane. friends by this point.
I sold the Big Dog for the team (well, maybe they helped out a little). Matt from Slough had big plans and couldn't wait to take her off our hands. He talked of a custom paint job and shelving units. It felt as though we were passing the golden baton on to the next owner who would learn to love her just as we had done on those memorable 60 days.
Leaving the Big Dog had a positive side too. I should mention we sold her for $2500, quite an increase on the $500 we got her for one morning in Melbourne. With $ signs lighting up our eyes we spent a whole afternoon playing with the $100 dollar bills. Stacking them, counting them. Throwing them around. Only counting 24- then finding the 25th under the rug. And who says that gap years are a waste of time??!!
We walked through Brisbane airport hand-in hand with Alex and Lisa. It seemed like an eternity ago that we had asked if they fancied a daytrip to Nimbin. Departing letters were slipped into each others palms. There were many tears, mainly on the part of
Cairns
Taken on our way up to Cairns the great romance between Alec and Lisa.
We said goodbye to Morley as well which was sad. It felt like our fifth member was leaving us. We wondered where we would see him again. Bristol? Or maybe as part of our next trip, Bristol2Brazil (but more on that later..)
Australia had been a journey filled with laughter and adventure. It was the perfect roadtrip with our mix cd's and our 1986 Holden.
But there was another lover on the horizon, another continent. We were ready for Asia's calling. We talked on the plane, and we all agreed that we were looking forward to going somewhere where travel was more difficult. Away from shuttle buses and the English language.
Stay tuned. Move
Bristol2Bombay to the top of your favourites list. Get excited (we certainly are). We are taking on Singapore, then Indonesia....
Jona
Advertisement
Tot: 0.079s; Tpl: 0.016s; cc: 8; qc: 24; dbt: 0.0291s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
morley
non-member comment
oh the photo with the dj outside the club is a gem!! what a pissed up palava of a night!! samwise fighting naked in the hallways and being sick in the sink...what a few weeks it was eh!! xxx