Category Archives: Travel

Rockhampton – YHA

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When we arrived at Rockhampton it was a little after midnight. We collected our luggage and called for a taxi to take us to the YHA. After waiting for about ten minutes a taxi pulled in to the forecourt,  Alex went to see if it was the one we had booked, but as he spoke to the driver at his window, a drunk guy opened the passenger door and plonked himself in – meanwhile gesturing to his friends to get in. The taxi driver immediately told them to get out (turns out it was our taxi) and luckily the drunken party left of their own accord, mumbling complaints under their breath about the taxi driver being rude. Once we had packed our luggage into the taxi we were on our way!  As we were arriving at the hostel out of hours, we were in possession of a secret code that would grant us access to our dorm key. We found the room and entered in to darkness, we could see that both bottom bunks were taken and the occupants already asleep. We tried to be as quiet as possible but when you have to climb onto the top bunk, noise was inevitable. They didn’t seem to complain though, in fact they didn’t say much at all as they checked out first thing the next morning.

Our reason for coming to Rockhampton was the Olsen/Capricorn Caves. However it wasn’t until we were chatting to one of the staff at the hostel that we realised just how difficult it could be to get there. No public transport goes to it and hiring a car for the day would cost us around $90. The manager of the hostel did however know someone who would come and pick us up, wait while we explored the caves and then bring us back to the hostel again. This sounded great but we needed to wait until the manager got to the hostel which wouldn’t be for another half hour. Therefore we decided to go into the town that day and out to the Botanical Gardens and Zoo and that we would speak to the manager later about arranging the Cave trip for tomorrow instead.

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Agnes Water – Southern Cross Backpackers

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It was teeming rain when Carolyn drove us to the transit station on our last day in Noosa. Both Lucy and I were excited and slightly anxious at the change ahead. The continuation of our adventures up the coast was an intriguing unknown. And since our arrival we’d been staying in motels, friend’s houses and with relatives; the Southern Cross Backpackers in Agnes Water would be our first ‘dormitory’ accomodation. We arrived at 18:10 to a waiting minibus, that took us swiftly to the hostel. The greyhound journey had been a fairly tiring 9 hours, so we were looking forward to the usual crash-out on a comfy bed and I must admit I hadn’t really thought about the fact it would be a dorm of six. The three dutch lads that greeted us asked us where we were from, but the conversation pretty much ended at that.

The atmosphere immediately following our arrival was uncertain, though not unpleasant. We both agreed that what we needed, were some people to strike off a good conversation with. As there was a barbeque about to light up, the opportunity arose to do just that. All we needed was to buy a drink and we got a hot dog. We sat down with it and got talking to Irish couple Owen and Tia. They had been making their way down the coast from Cairns; working in many hostels although in this one they were taking a break and just paying to sit back and relax. They were also just one of many people we would meet that were headed for Sydney for New Years.

The following day we had a leisurely start, as we’d booked the Scooteroo Tour which starts in the mid afternoon and is pretty much the main reason that many backpackers make a stop of Agnes Water. At the hostel office, we had been warned the previous four or five days had been solid rain and the forecast was grim, but the new day brought with it some stunning sunshine and at 14:30 we were picked up (speaking Rural Aussie Time; at two thirty we were waiting for the bus, at two fifty-five it actually turned up). The tour basically involves riding 125cc chopper motorbikes through quiet rural roads in search of kangaroos. In addition they cheese it up with a complementary flame-decal helmet, matching leather jacket and free temporary tatoo. I passed on the tatoo, but the rest was safety equipment which meant I was supposed to wear it. So I fed it to a passing platypus then resumed looking awesome.

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First Weeks in Noosa & Australia Zoo

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We packed up everything on our backs again and caught a bus into central Brisbane to catch another one back out of it: the Greyhound coach. Our next destination would be Noosa, although on the way we’d stop at a number of places including Australia Zoo. While here we noticed a billboard proclaiming November 15th would be Steve Irwin Day, so decided to plan our Australia Zoo outing to coincide as we had the month to choose from.

The 3+ hour trip went by quickly as I had an audiobook of Richard Dawkins’ Greatest Show on Earth to occupy my mind. As well as greatly clarifying anything I didn’t know about the evolutionary process, I found it greatly inspiring and hope to ellaborate more on that subject in a future post about games.

My relatives in Noosa live in Sunrise Beach, in a beautiful house looking out onto the Coral Sea (essentially the coastal Australian stretch of Pacific Ocean) from a raised hillside, perhaps a hundred metres from the water’s edge. After the first week they were away in Tasmania for 20 days, so we looked after the house and (temporarily resident) cat. After the busy sightseeing and activites of the previous two months, Noosa was to be something of a break. Some days were spent simply relaxing at the house. I had the chance to get a lot more work done, in the fine office that was a pacific-view balcony. In addition, I participated in NaNoWriMo, but that is a subject for an entry in itself.

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North Stradbroke Island – Part 2

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The next day, we had a plan. After saying a short farewell to the two Irish girls, we drove down to Cylinder Beach, the most ‘friendly’ of the island’s beaches, off the road just before Point Lookout. It seemed an ideal place for a pair of sea-noobs like us to literally get our feet wet.

I am contradicted (as ever) in that I feel most naturally comfortable and in my element on the deck of a ship, yet I cannot swim to save my life (unless my life can be recovered in less than a minute, because my treading water endurance is on par with my deep space endurance). I am also entirely untrustworthy of the unknown element of the ocean. A particularly unkind observer might declare that I am basically afraid of sharks. But this isn’t quite fair. It’s the Jellyfish that I don’t like.

Anyway, I digress. I only wish to point out that me touching the water wasn’t out of the question, I was just never that enthusiastic on going properly into it. Yet something that day made me change my mind. Perhaps because I hate passing up on things due to negligible, silly worries and risks; it would be most uncharacteristic for me to do so. Whatever it was, we both waded into the crashing waves. I didn’t expect to regret it, and indeed I didn’t; it was immensely enjoyable. The sea was cold; reflecting the time of year more than the weather of the day (which was roasting). But it was welcome and refreshing, bobbing up and down with the waves.

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North Stradbroke Island – Part 1

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We’re in Cleveland; it’s just past 8pm and we’re a few metres from the waters edge. The black liquid laps against the quiet moonlit shore as a large metallic bridge is lowered, and the cars all drive down the concrete toward the sea, then up onto the car ferry waiting to take them to North Stradbroke Island.

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Totally Into Brisbane

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Having worked in the Brisbane area for over a week now, we’ve had one or two occasions where we’ve been at liberty to wander. The first good chance we got was Sunday 25th; and so we decided to head into the urban jungle of Brisbane City. As we went back again today, I’ve decided to amalgamate the experiences one psuedo day that could, in some parallel universe, have happened (but incidentally didn’t).

Like any good tourists in Brisbane we started with the South Bank Parklands. This little stretch of paradise has beautiful landscaping, restaurants, bars, markets and Australia’s only innercity beach, something we spent a full afternoon enjoying (and in true British fashion managed to pick the most overcast afternoon since we’ve been here). There’s also a large ferris wheel that looks distinctly like a slightly scaled down London Eye and various graceful bridges nearby tempting us across to the Brisbane CBD: the heart of the city.

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Roadtrip Brisbane

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I was a little relieved to wake up feeling as I did Saturday morning; an able-minded member of human society again but still in a great deal of pain. My brain knew that Brisbane was a long way, but nothing I compared it to seemed to give my brain the sense of distance I would be dealing with. I decided to just take it as it came, so bring on the Hyundai.

The car was brand new, registered Western Australia with just 3,800 km on it. We were going to add at least another third on that. We had snacks, supplies and ample water for the desert of broken glass that was my throat. A quick glance at the road map, then we shot off north over the harbour bridge, waving a fond farewell to Sydney (for now).

After about ninety million traffic-sodden intersections of north Sydney, we arrived at the Pacific Highway. This is exactly as you might imagine it (minus the Pacific part admittedly, which is typically 4-5 km away). But it was just the kind of heavy-duty, 18-wheeler, cliff-lined, palm-tree’d, sweeping vista’d freeway that I (and many cooped up UK drivers) always wanted to drive on.

We drove for ages, and then some. It was a big ol’ highway. I took a scenic detour, then we decided against it for time was pressing, so we rejoined the Pacific. We continued driving. Time passed. George R. R. Martin probably wrote another book. Then finally, we came upon Newcastle, for we needed a break. And how far along the route was this great leap to Newcastle?

About a fifth, actually.

Still, I was enjoying the scenery and the geographical milkshake of placenames, if not the fact that my throat felt drier than the rocks by the roadside. Shadows were beginning to lengthen by this point, so we settled on reaching Armidale. But by Tamworth, some 150km short, it was pitch black so we grabbed some fuel just in case. When we did eventually get to Armidale it was just 8pm, but it felt like midnight. We found a motel, more expensive than we’d hoped but very fancy all the same, so took it. Continue reading →

Man Up for Manly

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The second night in Sydney was challenging. My symptoms were getting worse and I woke up countless times for one reason or another. Then, at about 5 am, I awoke on what I would later realise was a painkiller high. Believing the worst to be over, I proclaimed our planned visit to Manly for Day 3 would be no sweat.

Initially I was fine and despite needing an army of tissues I really felt I’d gotten over it, once I’d had a hearty bacon & egg roll and cup of tea from a nearby cafe on William Street. We took a leap and decided to hire a car from Europcar for the journey to Brisbane in the weekend (and the subsequent drives to the veterinary practice Lucy would be working at). It certainly wasn’t the cheapest thing we’ve ever done, but I think the layers of reputability and insurance are weight off the mind at least.

I greatly enjoyed the ferry ride from Circular Quay to Manly Wharf. Of all the impressive scenery, it was my first ever glimpse at the Pacific Ocean that felt most profound; as much as one ocean is alike another, for the largest mass of water on the planet it had taken be a long time getting round to visiting it. I also found my imagination wandering, picturing what it might have been like for those on the First Fleet sailing into the harbour waters on big wooden ships, under the near silent power of sail instead of the throbbing diesel engine. What would it all have looked like without buildings? That moment, hundreds of years ago, was were modern Australia originated. It was a powerful notion.

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Arrival in Australia

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The sun has set in Sydney, bringing our second full day here to a close. Already I feel vastly more aquainted with this city than I ever expected; perhaps it’s the informality, perhaps its the fascinating & unusual past, but it seems clear to me why so many people come here and unexpectedly find themselves at home.

We arrived on Tuesday night, on a Quantas Airbus A380. This is an aeroplane that cannot be overstated. The worlds largest airliner, the A380 truly is a beast. But it also offers a fantastic flight to even the budget traveller. One of the innovations, known as Skycam, was a tail-mounted forward-facing camera you could view from the seatback screens, showing an excellent view of what was going on outside. The meals were delicious, snacks frequent and the entertainment on offer for the seatback was sublime. It is possibly the only way 21 hours in a chair could be considered enjoyable. Continue reading →

The Horror of the Yellowbugs

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Last week I went camping in Norfolk with my wonderful lady companion and though it wasn’t a long holiday, we’d set aside a day to basically do whatever we wanted (the day after we arrived, to be precise). So when the morning came, on seeing a bright shining sun, I felt the urge to build something. So I figured, let’s head for a beach. You see, despite being a ‘respectable’ adult, I have not lost the need to construct temples to Ra out of sand. I’m actually volatile in temperatures exceeding 30 degrees, so sunbathing is never something I took a liking to, but I don’t know if you can go to a beach when it’s raining. It might be against the law; I don’t know, I’ll look it up. Continue reading →