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Published: June 27th 2006
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Rule #1 of the hitch hiker Ethos is never turn down a ride. Now Beetle scared the hell out of me, and the two drunks in the El Camino might have led to my end, but when the 70's brown station wagon pulled up beside me somewhere between Noosa and Harvey Bay and I took one look at the strange man inside, an uneasy feeling overcame me. I tossed aside the pile of Mcdonalds wrappers sitting on the passenger side seat, and introduced myself to Dan. He might have at least attempted small talk prior to asking me if I'd found God; However, the soap box preacher began his speech about fire, brimstone and the book of Revelation immediately after I heard the sound of my seat belt click. I went into diplomatic mode, lied through my teeth and told the man that I believed in Judgement Day and the Second coming of Christ. Finally, after what felt like hours of Christian Fundamentalism, Dan pulled over to let me out of the car. I heard the driver side door open, and watched Dan walk towards me. He opened his arms and embraced me in a long, awkward hug. "Jesus loves you!"
Dan whispered in my ear.
June 9th, 2:30 pm- Harvey Bay- Koala Bar- The 40 of us sat in silence awaiting our fate, and trying to judge people based on appearance. Enter Shane, the fifty year old bar manager. Shane spends his days yelling random obscenities in a thick Australian accent. Each lude comment is followed by a blood curdling laugh. Today was no different than yesterday, and Shane is in top form, drawing parallels between the Mexican Tacos that will be served for dinner that night and a women's vagina. Enter Linda, another middle aged wonder who spends her days flirting with 20 something backpackers and offering them free room and board in exchange for sexual favors. Our lives would be in the hands of these two nut cases for the next three days as we were about to depart on a Fraser Island Self drive Safari.
the extensive list of rules, regualtions and fees was thoroughly gone over, and we were hearded like cattle into our groups. Unfortunately there was some confusion regarding the rules allowing campers to bring their own diet cola onto the island. A strange German named Markus spent three to ten minutes clarifying
Tommy Carl and I
after losing the beach volley ball tournament in Byron Bay which beverages he was allowed onto the island. When an Irishmen snickered at the obsurd questions Markus was asking, Zee German became angry and confrontational. This was not the last angry encounter Markus would have on the trip.
I was put into a group of 10, with 4 Irish, 4 Brits, a Dutch girl and myself. We spent three days getting stuck with our sketchy 4x4 (aptly named "Shane"), swimming in crystal clear lakes, spotting dingos, camping under the stars, drinking box upon box of low grade wine, inventing new and exciting ways to consume the wine, participating in the first annual Fraser Island Midnight Naked Olympics and playing truth or dare with loads of Irish people.
On night 2 on the Island, Zee German became angry and confrontational once more, this time in dramatic fashion. He sat behind the circle of people playing drinking games, muttering strange incantations under his breathe. As the game went on, the incantations became louder and more distracting. We tried to to ignore him until he began making rude comments about some of the girls in the circle. He had crossed the line of common decency. At first I was relieved that
someone else had crossed this line before me. My relief quickly transformed itself into panick as Marcus stood , and began screaming death threats at Steven O Connor, another Irishmen on our tour. Marcus had to be held back to prevent a fight. What impressed me most about Marcus' threats was the detail in which they were expressed. According to his drunken rage, Marcus is friends with some very powerful and rich people (Kaisers, Sausage barons, Hitler's Ghost, etc.), and in a year and a half, Steven O Connor will be murdered. Hopefully this was the result of some sort of wine induced schitzophrenia, but until then Steven, sleep with one eye open.
From Fraser Island I headed North to the town of 1770 where I spent 2 days camping with new friends from England. Then, to Rockhamption, The Beef Capital of Queensland and home to my 16 hour layover in a Mobil station bus stop.
RockHampton Australia, 7:35 pm- Date- unsure- Mobil Truck stop- William Street- Surprised by the sheer number of people who feed quarters into the Dungeons and Dragons Arcade game in the corner and wondering when the crying baby beside me is going to shut the hell up...
I finally bought some new pens today, not one of them works, but I have four hours before my bus leaves south so I best make them do some writing...
After countless attempts to make them work, I go desperately rifling through my bag in search of an alternate writing utensil, only to find Donatello's plastic Missile launcher. This drives me over the edge. I make a barely audible grunt of frustration, which draws stares from the middle aged women across from me. I stand up, and purchase a second package of shitty pens from the gas station attendant, only to return to my seat confronted with writers block (hence the rant about pens).
An 8 hour bus ride to Maroochydore, a two day visit with Kristen Saunders and her friendly Kiwi friends, 2 plane rides later and I had arrived in a frigid New Zealand Winter. Too Easy Mate!
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Sarah Dowling
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Hey Kris - My sister Isla is in Sydney. If you are going back there, you should look her up. Drop me an email and I will give you her contact info. Hope you are having fun. -Sarah D. PS Will you be back in Regina at the end of August?