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Published: October 8th 2007
Out in Cairns
Franny, me and Maria the GermanSo it was, with tears in our eyes we left the Childers Massive in Bowen, to carry on our own again. Not since travelling in South-East Asia at the beginning of our trip had it been just the two of us, but with Bob groaning, we set off up the backpacker coast. We had originally planned to drive to Cairns in one day, however, after not leaving until after lunchtime, we realised we would not manage the 700km trip before sundown. Back at home, I would not think twice about driving in the dark, but on the unlit, windy roads of north Queensland, it is best not to risk it. As neither driving off the side of the road nor having an unsuspecting ‘roo bouncing through our windscreen seemed like particularly good ideas, we decided to make a stop for the night at Mission Beach.
If you happened to Google search Mission Beach, the tourist sites found by the search engine would do a great job of convincing you to go there. Personal experience proves otherwise. Where one tourist site describes it as an “uncomplicated yet vibrant beachfront town”, I say: “don’t bother your arse”. There are about 2 shops,
1 restaurant and a bar to keep residents and visitors entertained. However, it did serve its purpose of giving us a place to stay for the night, so after one drink at Scotty’s, we went to bed early from over-excitement.
After briefly - and I mean very briefly - discussing the possibility of staying on in Mission Beach and visiting the close-by Dunk Island, we made the decision to drive on up to Cairns. The road back to the main highway was through cassowary protected land, but due to their secretive nature, we had not thought we would ever see one in the wild. Nevertheless, about 10 minutes after leaving town, we spotted one crossing the road. I had no idea what a cassowary was before coming to Australia, but I had been briefed by Scott prior to leaving Bowen. They are the largest land creature in Australia, and look similar to ostriches, but with black feathers and a blue head. They can run like hell, and have been known to attack humans, by charging at them and butting them with the hard crest on the tops of their head. With no thought to her own safety, Franny jumped
out the car, did an SAS roll across the bush and started snapping some photos. But as excited as we were, the cassowary seemed deeply unimpressed at such meagre specimens such as ourselves, and left us well alone.
With our Bill Oddie moment behind us, we carried on north to Cairns. After spending the previous 5 months in backwater Australia, we were ever so thrilled about arriving in a proper city again. The first thing we saw when driving in to Cairns was a huge shopping mall, so it only seemed appropriate that we made a short pit-stop. Having very tight budgets, we consoled ourselves with window shopping whilst marvelling at the gleaming stores and the general choice of mullet as not the hairstyle du jour. Things were definitely looking up.
The following day, we arrived early at the ferry terminal to check in for our pre-booked scuba cruise. However, it was only at that point that we were asked if either of us suffered from asthma, and it was discovered that since Franny unfortunately did, that she would not be allowed to scuba dive under QLD law. After psyching herself up for the task, Franny was understandably
gutted, but was told that she could still snorkel on the reef, so we made our way out to the boat.
The weather was grey and miserable out on the reef, but after having been briefed on the dangers of the bends and how to equalise ones ears, as well as the hand signals to indicate how you were doing under the water, we got suited up and ready for the plunge. Franny set off on her own while I stayed with my instructor and group. The first dive was supposed only to be short, as a way of introducing you to diving. However, by the time one of the guys in my group got over his panic attack, we only had about 3 and a half minutes to swim round the reef before we were signalled to go up again. I managed to see a large turtle, but was not very impressed with coming all this way just for that. Back on the boat, I dropped off my scuba gear and went off to explore with a snorkel, and hopefully see more of the reef. I was given the opportunity of going out on a second dive after
lunch, which, after having my sense of adventure piqued, I decided to take. This time I spent less time paying attention to the fact that I was breathing under water and more time looking at the sights around me. We had a lot more time to explore on the second dive, and I was completely overwhelmed by the sea life and coral that I had never expected to see unless it was accompanied by Sir David Attenborough’s dulcet tones and a cup of tea in my hand. It was one of those times in your life when you feel you have to pinch yourself, and I had to keep reminding myself that I was actually diving on the Great Barrier Reef and in doing so, was doing something that many people put on their ‘Things to do before I die’ list.
At not being terribly comfortable with the open ocean, Franny was glad she had had the experience, but was not overly impressed with being left alone with just her and the Great Whites. From the boat, she did manage to see a whale swimming by, which I think almost made up for it; however, I think she was
more than happy to be back on dry land and not having been eaten. As they say, it is each to their own, and I enjoyed myself immensely, and am looking forward to getting my open water certificate so I can dive on my own and have the freedom to explore. Nevertheless, where Franny is scared of the open sea and what it holds, she is more than happy being in front of a crowd of people with a karaoke mic in her hand, whereas, I would need brown trousers.
On the Thursday we moved on to Port Douglas, where we stayed in the hilariously named Panda Anus Caravan Park (well, technically it was Pandanus, but still…). The town itself was very well-to-do, and typically catered to middle-aged, middle-class white folks who enjoy a round of golf and sessions in the spa. Port Douglas is one of the richest towns in north QLD and even on driving into the town, this fact is evident. We had never seen such manicured roundabouts, where I am certain some poor sod was on call just in case any of the grass blades ever got too rowdy, and he had to sort the
situation out with his trusty nail scissors. We took our scummy selves on a walk round the town and noted the myriad of hemp stores, candle boutiques and floaty, linen clothing shops that were perfectly suited for their intended clientele. Most things were out of our price range, had we actually been interested, so we spent the rest of the day sitting outside the pub and writing postcards.
The next day we made our first stop at Mossman Gorge, which was situated next to an Aboriginal community. We joined the serious hikers in our flip-flops and took the route marked ‘easy’ through the forest to the Gorge. I am not entirely sure what we were expecting, but we were not overly impressed with this guidebook-inspired stop off. Nevertheless, the rainforest air had some strange effects on us as we stomped around the pathways to get different viewpoints of the Gorge. We draped ourselves over rocks in proper Timotei advert style, took ridiculous photos and generally acted like children; mostly in response to the frowns and stares we received from the proper grown-ups.
Bob next took us up through the rainforest and over the Daintree River on a cable
ferry. We were warned of crocodiles in the area which made us dubious of camping, but we soldiered on to Cape Tribulation. The driech weather made sure we remembered we were in the rainforest, and we found that after pitching our tent, there was really not much to do apart from going to the pub. We attempted a trip to the beach, but got pounded by cold, wet wind, so we decided the best thing for it was to go for a drink. We enjoyed a couple of cold jugs and congratulated ourselves (and Bob) on making it up as far north as one can drive with a non-4WD.
Franny drove us back to Cairns the next day, where we booked in to a hostel. We had decided to treat ourselves by staying under a proper roof and celebrate Saturday night in style. Passion Pop was opened, and by the time I came back from the shower, Franny had made a new friend in Maria the German, who told us she would be accompanying us on our night out. After Bowen and Airlie, any clubbing scene was bound to be a luxury, but as the night wore on, we
found ourselves in Dance music hell and longed for the clubs of Sydney where they played some real hip-hop or drum and bass. We would just have to wait though, and we managed to make it through the night by having a few extra Jack and Cokes.
We set off early on Monday morning and arrived in Townsville by lunchtime. By this time, we realised there was something seriously wrong with Bob as he seemed to be drinking power steering fluid like it was free champagne at a wedding. We were slightly worried, but after hiding all our belongings in the boot, we left Bob to rest in the car park and got on the ferry to Magnetic Island. We stayed in a hostel on the beach, which had really quite impressive views of the sunset. We asked at reception what there was to do in the area, to which he looked a bit blank, and said “You’re in it”. It seemed that without transport, we had the hostel restaurant and bar to keep us occupied for the night. We took advantage of happy hour but then ran out of money for full priced drinks, and had an early
night to prepare for the sightseeing the next day.
On the suggestion of the reception staff, we thought it best to hire some wheels for the day, but we could not decide if we should hire scooters or a car to explore the island. With some foresight to our potentially awful scootering skills, we chose the car option. We had originally wanted to hire a Mini Moke but they were all out of them, so we hired what was described to us as a ‘topless Barbie car’. As long as it got us round the island we did not care much, but when we picked it up, we were glad we were females as it really was not the most macho of cars. It was a bright orange soft-top that was roughly the size of two biscuit tins. Nevertheless, off we sped in Gay Bob (up to 60kms/hr anyway as that was the island speed limit) and we soon realised the island really was not that big. It took no more than 10 minutes to drive from one side of the island to the other, but we managed to spend the day visiting various sights and beautiful beaches, whilst
Me and Jelmer
Back in Bowen along the way picking up some lobster-like sunburn thanks to the open nature of the car.
We caught the ferry back to the mainland on the Wednesday morning and drove back to Bowen. Bob was fairly smoking by the time we arrived, but we promised him Scott would have a look to check what was wrong. It was strange being back there, and it felt like not much had changed. Scott, Jelmer and Wander were staying at a new campsite since living at the show grounds for any longer than necessary was not that appealing. The new campsite at Rose Bay was small and cosy, and we spent the next few days with the boys just chilling at the beach and playing guitar.
It was good to see them again, but we had places to be on our southward travels, so we left early on the Saturday morning in the hope of driving to Childers in one day. We would have made it, but Bob started smoking dangerously about 100km from our destination and we decided it best to stop at a nearby motel rather than risk breaking down in the middle of nowhere and getting raped and
Koala!!
Australia Zoo pillaged. The night in the motel was a bit of a luxury after the shared hostels and months of camping, so we settled in to make the most of it and watched TV from our double beds.
To make it more of a possibility that Bob would arrive in Brisbane in one piece, we made a plan to stop every 100kms to give him a chance to cool down and rest. I did not entirely fancy the idea of our car going up in flames with us desperately trying to decide what should be saved before he exploded like something out of a Die Hard movie. Luckily, by this time we were only about 400kms from Brisbane where we were to meet Colin and pick up Caz from the airport later on that night. After a much stilted journey - and with quite a few well-meaning men checking we were okay since we had the bonnet up - we made it to Brisbane. Colin had come back up from Byron so we met him at the airport where we were to pick up Caz. After going back to Manchester and realising she did not want to be at home,
she decided to give it another go in Australia, so we were to pick her up from the airport and have yet another Childers Massive reunion.
The next day was spent at Australia Zoo, which Franny and I had been excited about since we had passed it on the journey north. The zoo was founded by the late Aussie hero, Steve Irwin, in order to help educate visitors about Australian wildlife and endangered species. First of all we watched the croc show, which had some bouncy presenters showing us birds, reptiles and crocodiles, and then we went to feed the farm animals. By the looks on all our faces as little piglets, sheep and goats snuffled the pre-mixed food out of our hands you would think we were all primary schoolers and not in our mid-twenties. Throughout the day, we managed to feed some elephants, kangaroos and wallabies; pet a few camels, koalas and wombats; watch the koala show and the bird of prey show; and see countless other animals. I had to keep an eye on Franny to make sure she did not slip a baby koala into her handbag, although if she had done I would probably
have been happy, as they were actually the cutest things I have ever seen.
We took Bob to the mechanic and had the repairs done to the power steering - which, of course, was not covered under warranty - we were subsequently given a list the length of my arm that covered all his faults. Checking that none of them were likely to kill us on the drive back to Sydney, we set off on our merry way to Byron where we could chill for a couple of nights. I liked Byron just as much as I had the first time, and the laid-back atmosphere was exactly what I needed after the hell that was Brisbane. I think it is safe to say that Brisbane is not on my top 100 list of where I would like to stay.
After a few days spent on the beach soaking up the atmosphere, on the Friday it was time to get back to the real world and drive back to Sydney. The journey takes about 10 hours so we had planned to break it up by stopping over night in Port Macquarie or a National Park. However, after driving into
a National Park along the way that greatly resembled the set of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (“What’s that noise outside Timmy-Joe?” “I don’t know Billy-Jean, it sounded like an axe grinding. You stay in the tent and I’ll go check it out”. Slash, slash.), we decided to keep on driving. We ended up driving all the way to Sydney, and stayed over-night in the cars in a car park on the North Shore.
Luckily, we had prepared for arriving in Sydney and managed to find a house share where Caz, Colin, Franny and I could stay, on our very first day in the city. Chip found a house share not too far away, and we all settled in to city life comfortably for the next 6 weeks. Franny and I both did some temping to bring some money in, but we had forgotten how much more difficult it is to save money when you are not living in the back of beyond. Franny engaged herself in some telesales and catering work, after deciding busking was not such a good idea. I had a plethora of jobs, moving from place to place as required, and obviously making myself indispensable. I
spent 2 weeks filing for the Payroll department of a pokie machine company called Aristocrat; where they put me in the filing cupboard with no windows and no friends and I sorted out their filing system. The next week was spent on caffeine high; as I did data entry for Coca-Cola and received all the free Coke I could drink. The week after that I worked in Long Bay Prison, and did admin for the hospital. It was pretty much the same as any other job except for getting my lunch made by inmates; being watched by guards with rifles on the roof; going through security when arriving and leaving work; and hearing the loonies screaming and bashing their heads against the wall when I was on tea breaks. Some shorter data entry assignments also took up my time, but the prison was definitely my favourite job.
When we were not working, we met up with friends and enjoyed our weekends. Scott made two trips to Sydney: one on the way down from Bowen to Melbourne, when he and Caz got back together, and another trip at the end of the 6 weeks to come and take Caz back
so they can live happily ever after in Melbourne together. Franny and I eventually took the tour of the Opera House, where we had a highly entertaining guide called Peter and we were accompanied by royalty, in the form of Princess Bridget of Yugoslavia. Colin and I visited the Modern Art Museum, which was, to be honest, just plain odd. We visited a few beaches, but with it still being spring, it was not warm enough to venture into the water.
Unbelievably, it is now time to leave Australia, after an amazingly fast 9 months. We leave having made some incredible new friends, seeing some extraordinary sights, and generally having an once-in-a-lifetime experience. There will be a ridiculous amount of tears at the airport, but at least we know we have the opportunity to return when we want to. I am looking forward to coming back and visiting the many parts of the country that we did not get to see. I have to say, I love Australia. The people, the culture, the sights and the general attitude that pervades the country, have made my stay unforgettable. Franny and I both leave with treasured memories and plans to return
some time in the near future. And so we say, So long Australia, Hello New Zealand, as we move on to the next leg of our journey.
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