Father, please forgive me, as it has been several days since I last had access to Wifi.
The past two days went by in a blur of closed roads, thick air and mosquitoes.
Rising early on Tuesday morning I had a quick international chat with my father, who evidently cannot do math and thought a 4:45am phone call was totally appropriate. This allowed me to finish up some work, eat a free carbolicious breakfast, and check out of Bunk all before 10am.
The past two days went by in a blur of closed roads, thick air and mosquitoes.
Rising early on Tuesday morning I had a quick international chat with my father, who evidently cannot do math and thought a 4:45am phone call was totally appropriate. This allowed me to finish up some work, eat a free carbolicious breakfast, and check out of Bunk all before 10am.
Ever
since I was a little girl I have dreamed of visiting the Great Barrier
Reef, and with it just a few short hours away, Jacks and I were
determined to get there - no matter what the locals said! We had
originally planned on heading out to Mt. Isa, an old mining town that is
evidently authentic outback, but with all of the roads closed we were
advised not to do so. The Amsterdamers from the night before were headed
to Noosa, a small beach town up the coast from Brisbane, and that
sounded ok with us, so north we headed.
Noosa was a fairly painless drive, with stops at both Steve Irwin's Australia Zoo and the Glass House Mountains along the way. I had not been to a zoo in many moons, and the open floor plan was greatly appreciated as I got to pet both koalas and kangaroos. Kangaroos may be my new favorite animal, with their lassez faire attitude and beautiful, doe-like faces. Good thing we got to touch the animals, because with a $60 entrance fee I should have expected a red carpet and an enclosure dedicated to my memory. Everybody says Australia is expensive, but its kind of like when you're a kid and you're parents tell you not to touch the stove, because its hot - so, of course - you touch it just to make sure. Well, the hefty price tag associated with the land down under is true. And my hand is burned.
Along the tourist motorway just past the zoo, are the Glass House Mountains, a series of wooded hills formed from some sort of historic volcanic happening. I would know more, but I have never really been the kind of girl to read the placards, so I enjoyed the breeze, took a couple of shots, and moved on.
Once in Noosa a sense of familiarity washed over me. Attractive Caucasian from Brisbane, or Clark Kent as Jackie and I have named him - mentioned that Australia is just like California, and as we rolled into the high priced, LuLu Lemon inspired beach town of Noosa, the smell of La Jolla or Laguna Niguel filled my nasal passages. Don't get me wrong, the beach was beautiful and laying in the warm breeze watching a surf school is a lovely way to spend an afternoon, but when its also available mere hours from your hometown, it can be a bit disappointing.
With my sights set on the GBR, I suggested we make our way as far North as possible, which led us on this beautifully scenic sunset drive to Gimpy, a town as beautiful as it's name.
Noosa was a fairly painless drive, with stops at both Steve Irwin's Australia Zoo and the Glass House Mountains along the way. I had not been to a zoo in many moons, and the open floor plan was greatly appreciated as I got to pet both koalas and kangaroos. Kangaroos may be my new favorite animal, with their lassez faire attitude and beautiful, doe-like faces. Good thing we got to touch the animals, because with a $60 entrance fee I should have expected a red carpet and an enclosure dedicated to my memory. Everybody says Australia is expensive, but its kind of like when you're a kid and you're parents tell you not to touch the stove, because its hot - so, of course - you touch it just to make sure. Well, the hefty price tag associated with the land down under is true. And my hand is burned.
Along the tourist motorway just past the zoo, are the Glass House Mountains, a series of wooded hills formed from some sort of historic volcanic happening. I would know more, but I have never really been the kind of girl to read the placards, so I enjoyed the breeze, took a couple of shots, and moved on.
Once in Noosa a sense of familiarity washed over me. Attractive Caucasian from Brisbane, or Clark Kent as Jackie and I have named him - mentioned that Australia is just like California, and as we rolled into the high priced, LuLu Lemon inspired beach town of Noosa, the smell of La Jolla or Laguna Niguel filled my nasal passages. Don't get me wrong, the beach was beautiful and laying in the warm breeze watching a surf school is a lovely way to spend an afternoon, but when its also available mere hours from your hometown, it can be a bit disappointing.
With my sights set on the GBR, I suggested we make our way as far North as possible, which led us on this beautifully scenic sunset drive to Gimpy, a town as beautiful as it's name.
Gimpy, as
one of the natives informed us, is a hillbilly town. We were able to
locate some sort of outdoor arena for a team of undetermined purpose and a
bar/restaurant/casino which housed the town drunkards who did not seem
to mind at all that I had spent all day patronizing establishments sans
pants, taking the barefoot attitude down here to a whole new level. Don't worry - I was wearing bathing suit bottoms. The Susan Powter bar keep had bad news for us - Gimpy and the
surrounding areas had been hit hard by the 2013 cyclone and our
passageway North was unlikely if not impossible. This was disheartening
to say the least. We were at a loss of what to do and with our internal
clocks still off by a good number of hours, we were exhausted.
So
exhausted that we decided, at 8:30 pm to call it a night by cuddling up
in the front seat of our economy vehicle and sleeping in our
bathingsuits in the parking lot of said Casino hybrid. Sometimes I
wonder if I am too old for this shit.
A
combination of early morning wildlife chatter and a senior special bedtime led me to wake before dawn, take a leak in a public
parking lot, brush my teeth with a bottle of water, and start a new day.
ABC radio was no more promising than the night before and Jackie and I
realized unless we wanted to star in our own quirky indie film by
spending the week in this small backwoods town waiting for the waters to
recede, we had to make a move. And the move was South.
This
leg of the road trip offered me new insight into who I am. A) I am the
kind of girl who will unapologetically walk into an AMP to order
breakfast pantless and disheveled. B) I am the kind of girl who should
ask questions before ordering overpriced breakfast menu items, as BBQ
sauce is a staple here and C) I am the kind of girl who has started to
find Rihanna songs prophetic.
Yes, the last
one is disturbing to me as well. Taking turns driving on this portion
back through Brisbane and further South I couldn't help but pay attention to the
largely 90s based playlist on the radio and wonder why every song is
about love. When nursing a broken heart the full length version of Guns
and Roses 'November Rain' is equivalent to Chinese water torture and one's poor travelmate soon finds out
that the waterworks can be triggered by nearly anything.
Moving
on, when we rolled into the town Lonely Planet described as a hippie
little town with holistic medicine an practices available, I once again
was reminded of home as this could also most certainly be the Santa
Cruz of Australia. Luckily I've always loved the central coast so Byron
Bay was a welcomed stop.
After securing 2 beds in dorm room 24 at Aquarius backpackers, which sold us on free dinner and wifi only to later realize those were not entirely true, we ran to the beach to relax for a bit. 45 minutes on the beach and some parts of my body are red! I'm not sure if it's the ozone depleting or if the sun is on steriods down here, but my face has already aged 10 years, and I've been here less than a week.
After securing 2 beds in dorm room 24 at Aquarius backpackers, which sold us on free dinner and wifi only to later realize those were not entirely true, we ran to the beach to relax for a bit. 45 minutes on the beach and some parts of my body are red! I'm not sure if it's the ozone depleting or if the sun is on steriods down here, but my face has already aged 10 years, and I've been here less than a week.
Having done beach to parking
lot accomodation to beach we were sufficiently disgusting and figured,
what better way to bask in the glory of our filth than hit up the 6 pm
Bikram Yoga class. A class, I might add did not have to humidify the
room- because it is just that hot and sticky here! After burning out my
retnas for 90 minutes with the salty sweat dripping from my brow the
heavens opened up once again and to avoid the wet walk home, we were offered a ride from one of our
fellow students, Jess- a musician. Luckily this lift allowed us to return to the hostel just in time for their 'free with purchase' dinner that looked like Gerber's for grownups but was happily digested after a long day of travel and sweat.
Back at the
Aquarius we took a much needed shower, dressed in a room of Swedish 21
year olds and headed to the local cafe that will sell you a can of
something they call lemonade for $3.50 but allow you to access their
wifi in exchange- so it was basically heaven.
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