Home, Home Again

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Our final breakfast on the Nimrod was more basic than the others, perhaps reflecting that we had run out of food, or perhaps more likely that two of the crew had been throwing up all night thanks to the storm. We took a bus from Port Douglas, where we moored down to Cairns and being thoroughly exhausted did little but drink coffee, and go to the cinema. This is something that I had no intentions of doing, but the thought of two hours in a comfy chair that wasnt rocking and rolling was very appealing to me.

I ended up going for a few drinks that evening with people I met at my hostel, and at the start of the night I couldnt decided if they were boring, shy or that there was some sort of language barrier. After several hours out on the town including Sohos and the Legendary Woolshed I decided that they were infact boring, and went home, leaving them like Pilchards amongst Potato Cod(I think Potato Cod is a type of Grupper Shawna).

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