Every day that I slosh into work soaked from the drenching I got on the bike on my way to the hospital I joke with the staff that next time there is a drought in Australia all the Government needs to do is pay for me to fly over from the UK and I’ll be guaranteed to bring the rain with me. Apparently, this has been one of the wettest winters on record and there’s been all kinds of insane weather-associated destruction which really does a good job of taking peoples minds off the arid farm lands further inland which are presently unable to produce any food.
It has, therefore, resulted in me spending more time than I would like indoors but has given me a chance to catch up on some very enjoyable reading and film watching. OK so 12,000 miles is a long way to come to read a few books and get square eyes but even in the worst weather here you can feel relaxed and chilled out with a book and a glass of wine knowing that the sun will be out soon. In Scotland you’d just be pissed off – permanently. Actually, I think I recall that I was – permanently.
More Books 1. The Poe Shadow - Mathew Pearl 2. 23 Days in July - John Wilcockson 3. Every Second Counts - Lance Armstrong 4. Lunar Park - Bret Eston Ellis 5. The God Delusion - Richard Dawkins 6. Paint Your Dragon - Tom Holt 7. Open Sesame - Tom HoltMore Films 1. The Notebook 2. Knocked Up 3. Blades of Glory 4. Order of the Phoenix 5. Fracture 6. Chuck and Larry 7. The Simpsons 8. Diehard 4.0 9. Curse of the Golden Flower 10. Wild Hogs 11. Something’s Got To Give
Sorry - forgot to put this on the Queensland entry. We ate this just after our dinner at the Tibetan Restaurant and it was bloody amazing. A must if you ever get the chance.
It was Saturday night and we were going to dine at a great Indian restaurant on Pacific Highway called Last Train to Bombay. However, we hadn’t made a reservation and when we arrived it was packed and there were no tables left. The waiter in his well ironed black slacks, maroon waistcoat and pristine white shirt said they could make a table for us but it would be about 40 minutes so we agreed and left the restaurant looking for something to do to kill the time.
About 100 metres up the road was the New Orleans Café which we’d walked passed many times but never been in. It was really busy with full tables inside and out in their courtyard and there was a jazz band playing in the corner so as Green Onion drifted through the voices of the customers we sat down at the last available table.
The drinks menu was a bit barren but they had their own lager so I thought it would be rude not to try it and I was pleasantly surprised. It went down as easily as all cold beers in hot countries do but with surprisingly little aftertaste for a “local brew” but at $7 per bottle it would unlikely be my choice of drink for a whole evening’s boozing. However, extreme kudos to the Café for having their own beer – but for all I know there is some dude in the back shop sticking labels on Heiniken bottles.
I am not built to run. I think that it’s pretty obvious when you look at me that I’ve never really run anywhere in my entire life except to the bottle shop at 21:59 when it’s about to close. However, Isla does run and she wanted to do Sydney’s famous 14km fun run (from the City centre to Bondi Beach) and for some reason I thought “Hey, I can do that,” so signed up with her.
The night before the race I had feelings somewhat akin to sitting in a dentists waiting room knowing that you need root canal treatment but not knowing what exactly root canal treatment is. That feeling didn’t leave me and at 5am I was up pacing, fretting about how little training I’d done (I’d never run more that 11km and that was on a machine), worrying about how much water to drink and whether or not to have a big breakfast, etc. I settled on a litre and half of water and a snickers which I’m sure wasn’t sensible (bananas I hear you say!).
Before I knew it the tow of us were standing in College St in the CBD stretching with 64,000 other runners desperately trying to hold in the pee that I now needed. The chaps on the tannoy announced that we would be starting soon and the churning in my guts was like the time 10 years ago when I stood outside the ring waiting to get my head kicked in during a Shorinji Kempo tournament in Southampton. Only this time any pain I was to suffer was going to be my own fault as a result of almost no training and spending the last 2 weeks in Queensland eating and drinking as hard as I was able.
The horn went and we were off. I think we must have spent the first 15 minutes or so walking as there were so many “competitors” (far too many out for a Sunday stroll) that is was impossible to get a good tempo up. All too soon, however, I was jogging and despite a few hills, strollers, grannies and fatties (of which I was one) things seemed to be going fine – although Isla had left me for dust after about 5 minutes. The first few km went past without any real issues but then I reached “Heartbreak Hill” which marked the 6 – 7km mark. I tried to run it but it didn’t take long to realise that I was actually faster walking the hill than shuffling up it.
By 9km I had to stop for a pee break which shouldn’t have added that much time to my run except that I had to wait outside the porta-loos for 5 or so minutes till one became available. A few mouthfuls of Gatorade and I was back on the road which was essentially all down hill from that point. It should have been a breeze but the cramp in my right calf at 11km and then my left calf at 12km made the last few thousand metres really difficult despite the sea air blowing in from Bondi encouraging everyone to the Finish line.
Within minutes I saw the red “Finish” banner ahead of me and that spurred me on. Crossing the line was one of the most euphoric feelings ever. Having never run in an organised race before and also having run the furthest I’ve ever run was overwhelming and I think it would be hard to beat that emotion. I’m sure it won’t be long before I’m in another race – and am already thinking of signing up for the “Bridge Run” in September.
If you are interested – my time was 1 hour 52 minutes 22 sec (bloody shocking!).
The is rated one of the best and most well maintained museums in Sydney so we were eager to see what the chat was all about. Unfortunately we arrived quite late in the day and only had a couple of hours to see the whole thing. Luckily for us (or unluckily depending on your point of view) most of it was shut for renovation – but since these parts of the museum are free there was no financial loss. This meant we actually only got to climb the lighthouse to look at the harbour views which we followed up with a tour of the Endeavour replica (for the additional fee of $15).
The light house was quite cool. 74 steps up a spiral staircase saw us at the top of this lighthouse which used to be located near Townsville and after being decommissioned was dismantled and rebuilt at the Darling Harbour site for the benefit of the general public. The views from up there gave a good panoramic of the area with a lovely backdrop of the city skyline it didn’t compare to the one from the Sydney Tower or the night time view afforded by Star City Casio.
After that we made out way round the replica of the Endeavour which recently had it’s 14th birthday. We actually thought that it was the original until someone (who thought we were being a bit “special”) told us that the real one is at the bottom of the sea off the coast of Rhode Island and was sunk on purpose (with 9 other ships) during the War of Independence as deliberate obstacles against the British Navy.
The tour round the boat was made personal by the guides – all of whom are part of the permanent crew or who have done a few volunteer trips on the replica. They knew it backwards and had ridiculous amounts of knowledge about the history of the ship and its original crew members. We could have paid to go on HMAS Vampire and the submarine that they have there as well but time, unfortunately, was against us and by the time we left the Endeavour the museum was almost closing. Really, quite a fascinating couple of hours but a shame that some of the other areas were closed.
Isla and I had two weeks off and decided to spend it touring the East coast of Queensland from Cairns to Brisbane. Here follows my somewhat sketchy account of what went on during our whistle stop tour of the Sunshine State. Now most of you know that I’ve visited Australia before and I travelled this coast in 2000. This made the Challenge somewhat difficult but I’ve tried to be true to the cause and only include new places we visited and new things we did. For example, you’ll see that Cairns itself doesn’t get a number (although the flight up there does) and a place like Yeppoon does as I’ve never been there before. However some things like the Great Barrier Reef deserve mention even though I’ve dived there in the past. Before you say I’m cheating – well we always stayed in different hostels than before, went with different tour companies and also managed to fit in some brand new things along the way – mind you, a dash of artists licence is required to make this a better read so bear with me. Now without further ado let’s get on with the writing – I hope you’ve got about an hour to spare because I’ve got a lot to say…
We started our trip with a (175) Flight up to Carins from Sydney with the company Jetstar who really dominate the skies in Australia when it comes to budget airlines. We weren’t too bothered about the fact that you have to pay for food and drink on the flight as we thought it would be a short flight and no sooner than we were taking off we would be landing. However, even a “short” flight by Australian standards goes to show how large the country is. A 3 hour flight from the UK can get you almost anywhere in Europe but on this 3 hour flight we had only passed from one state into the next.
It was about 4pm when we landed in Cairns and the airport reminded us of the one in the Dominican Republic – humid, hot and totally falling to bits. None the less we were happy to have our trip well under way and jumped into a taxi which had us in no time outside the Belleville Motel where we would be spending the next 2 nights. We dumped our stuff in the room of this pleasant hostel and went for a walk to get our bearings.
This didn’t take long as Cairns is really quite a small place and once you leave the esplanade there is hardly anything else apart from suburbia. We sat and watched the sun go down from the boardwalk and then went in search of dinner.
We settled in the tacky Rattle ‘n Hum bar/restaurant but managed to get a table outside in the far corner of their seating area so it felt like we were away from the main crush of the bar. We ordered a bottle of (176) Yarra Ridge “Eye Spy” 2004 Cab Merlot and it went down a treat. In fact we had almost finished it by the time our pizzas turned up but we didn’t care because we were on holiday. Even though it was still early we had a big day ahead of us so after some ice cream and another walk round the main street we headed to bed.
The next morning while it was still dark we were up and walking through the brightening streets towards the port terminals. Our day was going to be spent out at the Great Barrier Reef courtesy of a tour company called (177) Reef Magic. We were far too punctual and once we had checked ourselves onto the tour we had time for a hefty bacon and egg sandwich from one of the cafes on the docks.
Before long we were cruising out the harbour and soon we were approaching the Reef Magic pontoon. Unlike other cruises this meant that we could leave the boat and spend the day on a big moored platform that was gratifyingly more stable than the boat. It held all the equipment for the day and provided us with a large sun lounging area out the back. Unfortunately it rained for a good deal of the day so sun bathing was out. In fact it was warmer in the water than it was on the pontoon so we spent most of our time snorkelling within the confines of the “safe area”.
However we got bored of this and decided to go on a (178) Guided Snorkel Tour which was definitely worth the money. One of the Reps collected us after lunch and soon we were flipping our way out of the barriers and into the Reef proper. It became obviously within a few yards that this part of the reef was less affected by the tourist trade and everything was brighter and more colourful. There were far more species of fish and we spent several minutes looking for the local white tipped reef shark which we unfortunately didn’t find.
Once we got back to the pontoon we didn’t have time for a scuba dive and besides we were totally freezing so we got dried off and then headed for a (179) Ride in a Semi-submersible boat which was great fun even though the visibility was crap and some mentalist chick decided to show us what she’d eaten for lunch which was not amusing in such a small space.
Sadly our time was up too quickly and we were ushered back onto the boat. Within a couple of hours we were back on dry land and after an overcooked steak (I asked it to be rare) and a bottle of (180) Pasqua 2003 Merlot it didn’t take long for us to crash out – which would become a recurrent theme of this tour – anytime spent in the sea mystically made us tired beyond reason.
The next morning we packed up, said goodbye to the Belleview and walked round the corner to Hertz to pick up our rental car which was going to be our tour bus for the next 10 days. This was (181) My first rental car and I wasn’t disappointed.
We had booked a Toyota Yaris which was going to take us the 2000km from Cairns to Brisbane for the princely sum of about $400. Isla had heard on the grape vine that Channel 9 employees were able to get discounts for Hertz rental vehicles so after an earlier phone call they had upgraded us to a Toyota Camry for the same price and lowered the cost of the obligatory “what-if-you-hit-a-kangaroo?” insurance. It only took a few minutes to work out the details with the staff at Hertz but suddenly the lady behind the desk dropped the bomb of “I’m afraid that we don’t have any of those left!”
We were gutted thinking that we were going to be dropped back down to the Yaris but delightfully surprised when she told us that she was going to upgrade us even further – for free. We ended up with a top of the range Toyota Aurion Presario - the veritable flagship of the Hertz range. It was jet black and only had 70km on the odometer so effectively we were going to its first drivers. It took several minutes to work out all the switches, dials and buttons but shortly after we were on our way. We spent a few hours trying to pick a name for the car and originally we decided it should have been Ving Raimes but after both agreeing that cars should be female we settled on Grace Jones since something that was so black, powerful, aggressive and female could really have no other name.
About 7 hours later we pulled in at Airlie beach without Grace even breaking a sweat (and without even seeing, let alone hitting, a kangaroo). I visited this place 7 years ago and it hasn’t changed a bit. It was still a narrow strip of pointless shops and bars that were there purely for the backpackers. It seemed to me that the only reason (apart from the Whitsundays) that anyone came to Airlie Beach… was because there was other people at Airlie Beach – yet I’m sure the majority of them wouldn’t have a decent explanation as to why they were there.
After a quiet night and a couple of beers on the main street we went to bed and were up early to do some detective work on what was involved with our (182) Sailing Trip round the Whitsundays. First we took a wonder down to the marina and it didn’t take long to find our boat which was moored at a pontoon in the distance and looked like a large graceful catamaran. From a distance we were pleased with what the Pride of Airlie looked like and we were become more excited about our Whitsundays sailing experience.
We made our way back to the booking office and paid our outstanding balance for the 2 night trip. The lady behind the desk warned us that there was still some “stingers” around (box jellyfish) and suggested we rent lycra stinger suits but we had already decided to rent wetsuits for the local dive shop. On the way there we stopped in at the Bottle Shop and picked us a couple of boxes of white wine as you could take booze on the boat and we figured it was polite to bring some along to share. However, when we got to the dive shop the bloke asked who we were sailing with and we said “The Pride of Airlie” to which he said, “You realise that’s a big party boat?”
How right he was. We were one of only 3 couples on the boat and instead of the 15 or so people we thought the catamaran would carry there was 54 tourists onboard with an average age of 21 the majority of whom looked like they were on an 18-30 holiday. I should have realised things were going to go shit when the deck hand who was giving the introductory speech said “I hope you are all ready for the best f***ing party in the Whitsundays!”
Now at this point I had two choices – this first was to keep ourselves to ourselves and try to enjoy the beaches and the cruising without getting in the way of the teenagers or there was the second option which was to drink as much as everyone else (or more) and try to fit it. Isla chose the first and I chose to be “Frank the Tank” and do the second which by the end of the trip I would truly regret – especially since it took me 2 days to get over my hangover. I’ll not go into the details of what all happened but it mainly involved lots of staggering around the boat, drinking games, almost drowning while trying to catch a giant turtle and drifting off in a rip which required a speedboat rescue.
So in terms of the 365 Challenge just assume that I was sober throughout and none of the above happened.
The first day was mainly just a cruise and we made our way slowly to (183) South Molle Island where we would be stationed at night. We had a reasonable double room but the views from our balcony were spectacular and we had the most amazing view of the setting sun which seemed to be commonplace in Queensland. The Islands bar was about 50 metres away and the views from there were even better and I burned up a few megabytes on the old camera.
The next morning we were up at 6am and after a quick breakfast we headed out to Whitehaven Beach which is reputed to have some of the whitest sand in the world and is made of pure silica. While most people spend the day on the beach soaking up the rays I used my time to locate, dive down to, grab on to and (184) Swim with a Green Sea Turtle. Holding on to this guy and being pulled along while he tried to shake me off was one of the most marvellous things ever. I only wish I’d had gills or a scuba tank so that I could have stayed down longer than the minute or so that I managed.
We spent quite a bit longer at the beach but there was so much to see in the water including a school of barracuda, parrot fish, garfish and trevally I didn’t really take the time to enjoy the sand. It was real shame when the day was up and we had to head back to the Island and I can’t help thinking that if you could open a set of beach huts on Whitehaven you would make a fortune is a very short space of time. 54 people clambered out of the water and back onto the “Gay Pride of Airlie” as it had been nicknamed by the crew and a couple of hours later we were chowing down on dinner. Some more drinking games and party antics and a New Year’s Eve style celebration later, we were back in bed with another early start due the next morning.
By 7am we were back on the boat and motoring (the sails were hardly used on this trip) out to Hook Island where spent the day snorkelling again – this is where, what shall now be known as “The Rip Curl Incident” happened and I’ll say no more on the subject suffice it to say I’m alive and well and Isla (sitting on the boat) was far more concerned than I was despite the fact I lost my snorkel and mask into the depths and couldn’t get the flippers back on when they came off….
Anyway, before I knew it we were back on the pier at Airlie beach handing back wetsuits and paying for lost snorkels. We checked ourselves into the “Backpackers by the Bay” hostel where we had stayed on the first night and after a quite dinner were in bed by 8pm.
The next morning we got in the car and Grace flew us down the Bruce Highway to (185) Yeppoon. This beautiful little town has one of the most fantastic beaches you will ever see and the photos just do not do it justice. We had booked into the Driftwood Apartments which turned out to be the kind of place you could see yourself having as a holiday home in the future. It was set just back from the beach and the 30m walk to the sand was chock full of palm trees.
This stop provided us with a bit of R ‘n R and we made the most of it. We read and ate and chilled. Isla even managed to get herself out on the beach for a run and I was incredibly impressed. We found a tiny little Thai restaurant there and despite it’s size and the fact it took them about an hour to make our food this place (on ANZAC Parade) made the best, creamy, filling yellow prawn curry I’ve ever tasted. I felt full for about 2 days after that.
Driving out of Yeppoon we made our way to the (186) Koorana Crocodile Farm and it was certainly worth the detour. We were there for about 2 hours and got to watch a video on the workings and purpose of the farm which was then followed by a tour round the paddocks where our guide fed each of the crocs. They were so impressive especially “Buka” who was a massive 16 foot 800kg monster that looked like his tiny legs couldn’t heave his massive bulk out of the water to get his chicken.
At the end of the tour we got a chance to (187) Hold a Crocodile and I don’t quite know what I was expecting but that wasn’t it. The little croc was totally smooth, dry and warm. I’m sure I could feel Croc Junior’s heart beating through his soft underside and holding onto him was bizarrely therapeutic and I was sad to pass him over to the next eagerly waiting tourist. That marked the end of the tour and we jumped in Grace and continued down the coast.
Our next stop was a place we had heard of from several people. It was a small surfer/sailing village called (188) The Town of 1770 called 1770 for short and signifies the place (and year) when Captain Cook landed in Queensland (although I believe he was a lieutenant at the time!). To be honest there really isn’t anything there just a huge estuary and a few moored boats. However, it’s near here that the Reef ends and so on the Ocean side of the estuary (and more particulary Agnes Water 3km further south) is the most northerly point on the east coast of Australia where you can surf in open water.
Other than that, the place has a really laid back vibe with only a few houses that you can totally imagine spending a couple of weeks in with a group of your mates barbequing, chilling out, reading, surfing, swimming and sailing. Those 2 weeks I’m sure would pass in an instance but you’d certainly feel the benefits of relaxing in “1770” and I’m sure the effects of that place would stay with you for many months to come. Unfortunately we had to hurry on to our next stop and had to leave the estuary behind.
By the time we got to (189) Bundaberg it was almost dark and we had our first run in with Grace. She started to screw up the GPS system and we got lost – in style. The roads all started disappearing on the screen and the town centre was all one-way so we couldn’t make the turns that Grace kept telling us to take. Once we found the street we soon realised that it came to a dead end and then continued on a completely different part of the map which took us ages to find.
Eventually, we pulled into the hostel and checked in. However, there was nobody at the reception – just our key sitting on top of the check-in paper work. We were surprised with the honesty but filled in the slip correctly, grabbed the key and went to have a look at the room. It was massive and filled with all mod-cons. We were going to have a little drink before heading out for some dinner but the box of red (how classy) we were carrying with us spilt on the cream carpet and after some quick scrubbing we made a bee-line for the closest pizza place.
It was a bit of a dive but a quick walk up and down the street revealed nothing better so we took a table outside the pizzeria (which was pleasantly full) and ordered a couple of gourmet pizzas (which they love here in Oz – if you want to start a new restaurant in the UK then this would be the way to go – some of them are the tastiest foods I’ve ever eaten) that we washed down with a bottle of (190) Fishbone Cab Shiraz 2005.
The next morning we were up early again and hit the road to find the real reason we had come to Bundaberg - (191) The Bundaberg Rum Distillery. We cruised around what can only be described as a “cross-roads town” until we saw the tall smoke stacks of the distillery which guided us to our destination. We parked outside but once we had paid for the tour we were told that we couldn’t take anything with us on the tour that operated with a battery. Therefore, we had to leave watches, car keys and more importantly cameras in the lockers provided so I couldn’t take any pictures while we explored the factory. Apparently there was some big explosion a few years back and anything that can cause a spark has to be left behind.
The tour was very good and informative and this was made especially true due to our bubbly and knowledgeable tour-guide who was called Paula. She and her two helpers told us everything there was to know about the manufacture of Bundy Rum and at the end they took us to the bar where we got to try some of the different Bundaberg varieties. Although it was past of the tour I’m going to tell you about (192) Bundaberg Royal Liqueur since this is the only place in the world where you can buy it and its not available in any bottle shops, bars or restaurants. It was delicious – sweet and smooth with a Kahlua type of flavour over ice and then with a bit of cream over the top made it akin to a white Russian. Perhaps I’ll invent a new type of cocktail of that ilk and call it a “Bundy Brown” or a “Mud Flap” or a “Roo Poo”. Its still a work in the making…
Our next stop was Hervey Bay which was a relatively short drive away. GPS was working again and it only took a few minutes to find The Mango Tourist Hostel in Scarness where we were greeted by the owners Phil and Ilona. Phil turned out to be the most informative and informed person (regarding Australian tours and holiday making) that I’ve ever met and if you ever get to this neck of the woods then don’t book anything in advance and let Phil point you in the right direction. Even if you are not staying in their hostel I’d recommend going to him for your bookings.
At 7:45am the next day our bus pulled up for our trip to Fraser Island. I’ve been there before and been on this same tour before so I’ll not say much about it. We went on a 4-wheel drive bus trip that took us around some of the highlights of the worlds largest sand island and this was accompanied with a running commentary from Colin our bus driver who appeared to know absolutely everything about the Island. We visited the rain forest, the Coloured Sands, Eli Creek, the wreck of the Maheno and Lake Garawonga. Colin was also forever grabbing things from his driver seat window to pass around the bus so that we could get a close up view of many of the plant life including Banksia seeds and Grass Tree pods.
Two very cool things also happened on that trip – the Island was on fire and we saw a dingo. Apparently the Queensland Parks and Wildlife Service (or “Sparks and Wildfire”) were doing a controlled burn in the North of the Island but this got out of control and the whole of the north of the Island was ablaze with a raging forest fire. It seems that 50% of their “controlled” burns go out of control which makes me think they need to plan a bit better (or at least no have a fire when there are people still on the Island!).
The dingo was awesome as they are becoming rarer and rarer so we were very luck to see one sitting at the side of the road. He seemed quite curious and spent a few minutes exploring around the bus. The Fraser Island dingos are the purest of all Australia’s dingos as they have never cross-bred with domestic dogs but (thankfully) there were no babies around for him to eat so he soon skulked off into the forest.
All too soon it was time to catch the ferry back to the mainland but before we arrived in Hervey Bay we were treated to one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen. We were sad to leave the boat and stayed on the top deck till the last minute before we were ushered off the boat and Colin took us back to our hostel (in a normal bus – the 4WD one was left on the Island). Having enjoyed our day so much we wanted our time in Hervey Bay to go on longer so we hunted for Phil in the hostel and made plans for another trip the next morning.
You see, every boat trip we had been on had teased us with the odd fin, breach or blow spout in the distance. The humpbacks were on the move up the east coast and we and never even got close enough to take a photo – despite zoom lenses. So we went out on a limb and Phil sorted us out with a 6:30am (193) Dawn Whale Watching Trip on the boat Blue Horizon.
This small, family operated tour company had us out in the channel in no time after plying us with champagne which at 7am even I was finding hard to accept but you know about that rubber arm I’ve got… We were one of only 2 boats out there at that time and it didn’t take long for us to realise we’d made a good choice in coming out that early. It appears that the whales get a bit bored of the boats as the day goes on but the trio of males that “mugged” our boat for almost 2 hours showed no signs of tiring of our company and the feeling was definitely mutual. I can’t begin to describe the feeling of being so close to these animals and I know that the pictures won’t do the whales justice but believe me it was the most moving and humbling experiences that I’ve ever been through. You must do this at some point in you life and if you get lucky they’ll be within an arms length like they were for us.
Click HERE for a video to show you how spectacularly close we were.
I almost shed a tear when we left the whales behind as the Blue Horizon motored back the marina – and I almost shed another tear when we got back to the hostel to find that the diligent Hervey Bay Blueheelers had given me (194) My First Australian Parking Ticket for parking “on the wrong side of the road”. What a weird rule! The road was empty and about 25 metres wide so I didn’t think it was a big deal to park facing the wrong way outside the hostel. However, it turns out that counts as “driving on the wrong side of the road” which resulted in my ticket. Mind you, it was only for $30 (but when we handed the car back in Brisbane the Hertz lady said that would have been $120 in the city – lucky that we learned that lesson in the sticks of Hervey Bay).
After angrily throwing the parking ticket in the glove compartment I commanded Grace to take us to Noosa which she did in less than 2 hours. We had no trouble getting to the Halse Lodge which deserves special mention as it was one of the most wonderful places to stay on the east coast. It has spectacular views over Noosa Heads and it has a fantastic bar which has pride of place for these vistas. The staff were easy going and the backpackers there were laid back and friendly. They had an introductory “meet and greet” with some free wine (which they have every night apparently) that several people attended and it was great to hear some other peoples views on their travels.
We had some time to kill before the introductions so sat at a café in the main street eating pasta, drinking cold beers and people watching. Noosa, for us, was a place to catch up with ourselves and remind each other that we were on holiday so we hadn’t planned to do anything here apart from relax. After the linguini and stubbies we took a short walk round the headlands and National Park (looking for wild Koalas – but didn’t find any) and arrived back at Noosa Beach in time to see another ridiculously glorious sunset. It’s incredible when you think how many people live in this area and probably never notice the beauty that they see every day. I guess that’s left to the holiday-makers and the travellers like us.
We had a reasonably early night after doing some laundry (boring but a necessity as our bags were stinking in the boot with 10 days worth of hot, smelly, sweaty, salt-water ridden clothing) but it was worth it to put on some freshly washed socks the next day.
By 10am the next morning we were in Brisbane at Hertz saying good-bye to faithful Grace who found her way to the rental agency flawlessly. We were staying at The Snooze Inn which is in Fortitude Valley and this neck of the woods hasn’t changed since I was there in 2000. Within 50 metres of our hostel there were 4 “adult” shops and peep shows which we both found a bit unnerving. The Valley gets it’s name from the name of the ship that dropped off a bunch of criminals here in the 1800s called The Fortitude and it seems like the relatives of those original misfits are still there. However, we weren’t too bothered as a walk down the Valley pales in comparison to a Saturday night on Sauchiehall St.
It was a Sunday when we arrived and we went to have a look at the (195) Eagle St Markets which were utter crap. Isla really enjoyed this collection of stalls selling all kinds of unnecessary tat for stupidly high prices and I tagged along sulking the way I always do when we go to a market (that isn’t selling foodstuffs) but I was soon cheered up when we went to the Jade Budda Restaurant beside the markets where we had a wonderful Asian-style lunch with some fizzy white that went down a bit too easy.
We made our way back to the hostel and I phoned my friend Dave who made his way out to the Valley that evening where we went for a few beers. As it was a Sunday the place was pretty quite and it gave us a chance to catch up with each other. I met Dave in 2000 in Brisbane when I was still a student and a few years later in 2004 he spent 2 months in Glasgow staying at mine while he did his medical elective at the Glasgow Royal Infirmary. During that visit to the UK he had been instrumental in getting Isla and I together – but that’s another story. It wasn’t long before we had to call it a night and we said our good-byes. It’ll hopefully not be another 3 years before we catch up again.
The following morning we went to explore the (196) Brisbane Botanical Gardens which were a bit unremarkable but the backdrop of the city was a fantastic contrast to the trees and ponds that have been put together in the gardens. If there was a specific area to see named plants and trees we didn’t find it but still it was a nice place for a stroll.
One crazy tree that grows all over the area is the Banyan Fig Tree which looks like something that Robin Hood would hide in (or more accurately the Australian counter part if there was one – I suppose Ned Kelly will do for the analogy since he spent loads of time hiding from the authorities). Anyway they are everywhere and every one of them is fantastical and takes you right back to your childhood making you desperate to play in amongst their hundreds of trunks and roots.
Later we jumped on our favourite of tourist attractions - (197)The City-Sights Hop-on Hop-off Bus Tour. This is probably the worst bus tour we have ever tried, not because the bloke didn’t know what he was talking about but because there just isn’t anything to say about Brisbane. In all honesty it’s a big town and has almost no history, practically no famous buildings and next to no sites of interest. At least it gave us a chance to get our bearings but otherwise it was a bit of a waste of cash.
One thing that made the tour worth while was the fact that was got dropped off at (198) Mt Coot-tha which has an incredible view of the city and so we spent about an hour up there drinking coffee and enjoying the scenery before we headed back down the hill. We must be getting old because it was another early night but not before we wasted some time in the plethora of tourist shops on Queen St.
There was a really surreal 10 minutes when Isla stumbled upon a kangaroo back scratcher which is one of the most singularly vile creations on the planet. Isla seemed to take great pleasure in chasing me around the shop with it and then spent another few minutes comparing notes about the dismembered limb with an 8 year old boy whom I’m sure thought she was as much as a freak as I did. She got a bit too carried away so I ushered her out of the shop (after stopping briefly to let Isla purchase a tacky Brisbane fridge magnet).
Another early one for us and then it was our last day in Brisbane. It started with us on a (198) Brisbane River Cruise on the Miramar which took us up the river and showed us various sights along the way including a huge fruit bat colony on Indoorpilly Island.
The main purpose for choosing that cruise was that it’s destination was (199) Lone Pine Animal Sanctuary. This place housed 130 koalas as well as ‘roos, wombats, dingos and emus to name a few and was started in the 1920’s when then only way to get to it was by boat as there were no roads up there – funnily enough that was what the Mirimar was built for in 1930 and it’s still going strong today.
The highlight of our traipse around the park was (200) Holding the Koalas. Of course this was a money making exercise for the park but since it’s totally self funded, we didn’t begrudge them the $15 for the privilege. I was amazed how soft the fur was and I could have petted the little drop-bear all day. Isla however, was not impressed with how sharp the claws were and how shitty “Mr Peabody’s” arse was.
By 3pm we were back at the pier where we had started in South Bank which is the original site of the 1988 World Expo – now it’s a full of shops, bars and public art courtesy of the Queensland Government with plenty of open spaces, walk-ways and even an artificial beach. A short walk to the end of the boardwalk saw us sitting in a riverside restaurant dunking Lebanese bread into various hand made dips while enjoying a few glasses of the very fruity Four Sisters 2006 Sauv Blanc/Semillon and absorbing some more views of the city.
We didn’t have much time left in Brisbane so we made our way back to the hostel and packed up our stuff in preparation for our early flight the following morning. In a last ditch attempt to make the holiday last a bit longer we went in search of a restaurant in the Valley that had been recommended by the Rough Guide called The Tibetan Kitchen. This was the first time I’d eaten (201) Tibetan Food and I wasn’t to be disappointed. Isla had the “Sherpa Platter” and I gorged myself on Tibetan curry (although it was made with prawns which seemed strange since Tibet is land-locked!!!).
All this was consumed with healthy glasses of (202) Jr. Jones 2006 Pinot Noir which we found in a tiny bottle shop that was part of a posh wine bar hidden off the main road of the Valley (Brunswick St). We searched for ages for a “light red” without success until the shop attendant come barman went through to the main area and came back with a glass of the pinot which we quaffed with a smile.
As with all good things this all came to an end and after a short 6 hour sleep we were up and on our way to the airport to catch our flight to Sydney. All in all a good trip but made difficult by the fact I’ve been there before and couldn’t help comparing things to “the last time”. None the less we still had a memorable time and I hope some of these photos inspire you to take a similar trip.
I remember once having a conversation with a mate of mine (you know who you are) where we were discussing Christina vs Britney and his exact words were “Christina is a total dog in comparison to Britney.” I was on the other side of that argument and I’m glad to say that it paid off. Who’s laughing now?
She was putting on a show in Sydney and although I’d not particularly describe myself as a fan of her music I was keen enough to say “OK” when Isla suggested we go. Acer Auditorium is out at the 2000 Olympic Park site and it’s not a bad venue. The stadium is large enough but not so big that the acoustics end up destroyed like at Hampden or Wembley Stadiums. Also it’s got a roof that can be closed and that make all the difference.
We arrived in plenty of time and there was a good 30 minutes between her starting and the support finishing so despite it being a week night and us having to take public transport from the other side of town, we didn’t miss any of the show.
It was a reasonably flamboyant affair with all sorts of stage sets, costumes and theatrics. Unfortunately, if she was trying to hide the fact that she was pregnant, the white satin high waisted trousers she wore during the first few songs gave everything away. Either that or she’d just had a few too many Aussie pies before the show started.
All in all it was a good performance and she really did get a great job of getting the crowd (average age 14) going. One thing that really annoyed me though was that we were up on the balcony so watched a great deal of the concert on the big screens because sometimes she was just too far away and on every close up of her face I noticed she did this weird flickering thing with her fingers which was ultra distracting. However, it was made up to me by the way her right boob fell out her corset during her last song and thankfully there was no flapping hand in the way to obscure my view on that occasion.
