South Pacific 2011

5/02/11

Despite having such a big weekend at Fraser, I arise early to see what I would be missing in Hervey Bay if I stayed…I realized it wasn’t much. I spent about an hour walking along the Esplanade and beach, just in time to catch bus to Noosa. The landscape throughout the drive varied from lush green grasslands, to tabletop plateaus, to thicker rainforest type areas. As we get closer to Noosa, the skies turned from a nice shade of blue to a dreary gray. Looking at the map of Noosa, I noticed there are three distinctive areas of this surf town. Noosaville, Noosa Junction, and Noosa beach front. It wasn’t a normal beach town with an overabundance of tourist shops, although they had some, it was a little more posh with some upper-scale shops. I waited for my shuttle to my lodge, and noticed people carrying surfboards, boogie boards, and beach bags. I was hoping that the rain would just threaten, and allow me to participate in the beach life the next few days. The shuttle showed up and took me to the lodge in Noosaville, with some unfriendly staff, right on the Noosa River. As we were driving through the Junction, I realized that this isn’t necessarily a ‘walking friendly’ town, with everything so spread out. I now understood why the accommodations put shuttle stats on their websites. I also notice the subtle rain drops began to plummet to a huge rainstorm. Upon checking in, the lightning lighted up the sky while the thunder shook the walls.

It took the rain well over an hour to subside, and when it was through I took a little walk around town for some dinner and ice cream. The rain kept most people in since the streets and bars were lacking serious activity. I headed back to the backpacker and did a little reading about the various activities in Noosa and planned out my three days, while watching the clock…Around 1130, I made a call home to wish my parents a safe trip as they ventured out to Peru.

5/03/11
Luckily I woke up to a sky of blue. I was going to make the most of today. The day really started with an egg sandwich breakfast with some girls from Germany. They were going to head to the beach, I, on the other hand, was going to bust out the rod and try my luck fishing. I hadn’t really fished since New Zealand, so I figured it was just a few hours on the water working on my tan, exercising my shoulder. The manager told me to head down the main drag until I reached the bridge, and there were several banks I could wet a line.

On this outing, I got lucky on several accounts. First of all, it was going to be a beautiful day…whether I caught anything or not, (wasn’t feeling optimistic) it was nice being in the sun. Secondly, where the manager suggested I fish was a nice sandy beach with a grassy knoll behind me…this excited me because I had less of a chance to get my fly caught in a tree! I already have had too many hits of ‘stick fish’. As I began, I started the episode with a ‘Wooly Bugger’, the same fly I used to catch the trout. I knew there weren’t any trout in this river, but I thought I would dance with the one that brought me. As I began casting, I took a deep breath and tried to remember what I was doing from what Dan Barrett and Billy had taught me…and to a complete surprise, I wasn’t casting half bad…for my own abilities. The line was cutting across the whole river, but at times it was rolling out gently on the water, giving myself a little bit of a chance. Basically, I was psyched because I wasn’t spending (all) my time untying knots. I worked different parts of the river, trying different strategies and rhythms of stripping the line, when I an hour or so had passed and I notice a couple local guys throwing out their nets for bait fish. I took a brief break and chatted a bit, and they were a bit surprised in seeing someone fly-fishing. They suggested I switch to my white fly, and although I have no idea what it was called, I took their advice. We went back to our separate areas and continued with no success.

As the clock was closing in on noon, I thought I would throw out a few more before heading back for some lunch. Just as I was considering packing up, I saw a fish break the surface and grab my fly! It wasn’t much of a fight. The Gar was long and skinny, barely weighing that of a few slices of bread. However, the third lucky instance of the day was the other fishermen were close enough to hear my excitement. As I called them over to see what I caught and for a favor I had in mind their first question was: ‘Don’t tell me you are one of those girls that fishes, but can’t take the hook out?’ ‘No’, I replied, ‘But I do need someone to take my camera out to show Billy what I caught (nearly) on my very own!’ They laughed and agreed. It wasn’t much, and definitely not eatable, but it was fun to take the hook out and to see the little guy swim away. Thinking I might have been lucky again, I continued to fish a bit, until my stomach decided that it needed some attention. It most likely was luck and an extremely desperate fish, but I had fun.

After a quick ham and cheese, I changed into my ‘cossy…costume, swimsuit’ for a little afternoon kayak. The lodge I was staying at offered free use of river kayaks, so since it had been a few days since there was anything that resembled exercise in my day, so I thought I would go spin the shoulders. The front desk suggested a little loop around the gently flowing river, through some canals that housed million dollars homes, and back again.

As I began, I noticed my lack of exercise within twenty minutes, but that didn’t stop me from completing the loop. Front desk guy was right. There were some amazing contemporary homes, right on the water that screamed big bucks. Despite intermittent cloud cover, it was a nice afternoon to be on the water. It was even pleasant to tie up to a jetty, lean back and take a little snooze while the gentle waves floated under me.

After a couple hours, I was back at the hostel, packed up ready to move…the unfriendly staff gave me an odd feeling, which made me move to another one just outside the Junction from a suggestion I got from different shuttle driver that was overly friendly, offering free breakfast, free WiFi, and free use of surfboards too. I was sold. When I arrived at ‘Flashpackers’, I was immediately impressed with the friendly receptionist/owner Jo and the facilities. They were plush and spotless…Everyone else there seemed to have the same friendliness and traveling standard. I knew I had a good home for a couple nights.

As dinner time was nearing, I returned a phone call to Paula Galloway, a lovely woman whom I met in Steamboat skiing in January. Her, her husband Ross and three kids lived in Brisbane, my next stop. They gave me their number and asked to look them up when I got there. I thought it would be neat to see them again and get the local’s perspective on the city. After a pleasant conversation, with a plan to make a decision later about meeting up, I manage to use the WiFi to make some future plans and bookings. I booked accommodations for Brisbane and Byron Bay, organized the rest of my bus times, and bought tickets to Broncos game…Brisbane Broncos Rugby League game that would take place on Saturday. The rest of the evening was spent talking to different travelers and researching a plan for Fiji…a little stressful, with it only being a couple weeks away…Yikes!

5/4/11
I got an early start to the day to complete the coastal walk through Noosa National Park. The walk started down one of the main drags through the area, then a left towards Sunshine Beach, and down a little side street of cafes and bars, to the steps of Sunshine. The beach was massive, in all sense. The large waves were crashing ruthlessly along the mile long beach. It all looked brilliant as the sun was really out which made the contrast between sea and sky breathtaking. As I made my way down, I noticed there weren’t too many people out trolling yet, and I ditch the sandals as soon as I hit the sand. I walked for about twenty minutes down the beach until I reached a walkway of rocks, to the stairs that hugged the water on a ridge. The scenery was beautiful. The water and waves continually crashing upon the rocky outcrops below was mesmerizing. Following the trail down, I reached Alexander beach…the nudist beach which I was well warned about. And sure enough, several men walking about, not displaying a bit of humility. My big question of the day was why are the only people on nude beaches old, hairy, unattractive, out of shape, men? Where are the nude beaches with young, hot, fit, handsome blokes?? Needless to say, I made my stay on this beach as brief as possible.

Continuing on up another short hill, around a bend is when I made it to ‘Hell’s Gate’. Not sure why it is called that, but pretty sure it has something to do with the massive cliff faces and steep drops. After the cliffs, the trail continues going from beach to beach all the way to Tea Tree Beach and the visitor’s center. Once at the center, I notice a couple looking up in a tree, and as I look up too, sure enough, I notice the koala that they are staring at. The little guy is tucked into the smallest fetal position in the ‘V’ of two tree branches. It was very cuddly.
After the nature portion of my walk, I stroll down the esplanade side of the beach and check out the various shops through the windows. Then I make my way up the big hill, down the big hill into Noosa Junction. Here in the Junction I make a quick stop to drop off the infamous ‘Yellow Journal’ at the Post so it can makes its way back to its owner at the Division of Wildlife, and duck into Coles for some snacks, before heading back to base camp.

After a quick lunch, I am back on the shuttle for a couple hours on the river to try my luck again with fly rod. At a different part of the river, closer to the mouth, I find myself all three different flies I have and the only thing that bites is the sand flies to my legs. The memories of New Zealand come back, and after only an hour and a half, I am packing up in order to avoid looking like a diseased person again. I walk back to town, and meet up with two Swiss girls who did a little shopping and we strolled back to the shuttle stop just before dark.
Back at the hostel, the place was hopping with different people cooking up some gourmet type meals. I, on the other hand, had a one pot pasta dish that would take me approximately seven minutes. While eating, I sat with Helena a girl from the UK, and another woman, Catrin from Wales asked to join the group. Catrin was around my age, which was great…I don’t meet too many oldies on the backpacking trail. She was funny, sarcastic, and had a good perspective of life and people. Catrin disappeared somewhere, maybe she couldn’t take the American, and Helena was playing cards, and I felt like going out for a drink. I put on the only skirt I have packed and headed back towards Sunshine Beach. As I got there, I quickly noticed the lack of activity. It seems as though I am the only person that was thirsty. Up and down the street I went looking for a place with a little action and a bar I could single handedly belly up too…Unfortunately, there was nothing. So after a quick beer flying solo, I headed back to the pad and immediately felt the pressure to come to a Fiji decision, so back to the computer I went to research…an shortly after I was staring at my eyelids, which was okay…I was going surfing with a few people in the morning, I knew I had to be at my best.

5/5/11
Breakfast at Flashpackers was always a treat. Since it was only from 730-830, only a few dedicated breakfast eaters would be up. I packed up my bag because I had a ride to Brisbane in the afternoon, but before I said goodbye to Noosa, I had an action packed day ahead of me. I had planned to go surfing with a couple of Germans I had met on the shuttle the day before, and we were planning on taking the 9am shuttle to Sunshine beach, but Joe, the Flashbacker owner, told us Main Beach would be better for our skill level. We took his advice.

Imko from Holland, Yannis from Germany and I made our lengthy trek to Main Beach, when a surf school was just getting underway. I figured we were in a good spot to catch some small ones, just to ‘feel it’. Sure enough, the first wave I go after, I stood up and road it in. So that, in addition to the cloudless sky, with lots of warm sun, and good company made me realize that today was going to be a lot of fun. We surfed for about an hour and half, hit the beach to dry off and relax, then was back at it after a nap and some reading. We headed out a second time and the results were just as good for me, catching waves…grant it they were small, but it was still fun. The second break on the beach was all about food. I knew I was going to be hungry, so had packed a lunch in anticipation. The boys, shockingly, did not plan so far ahead. With the clock nearing 2pm, a 335pm bus to catch and our grumbling tummies made it evident that our time at Noosa’s Main Beach was over.
When we made it back to backpacker we couldn’t help but notice the camera crew. Upon arrival inside, we were reminded of the Discovery Channel’s TV show that was here doing a piece on backpackers. Immediately we were instructed to grab a beer, go hang out by the pool, and act like we were having fun…wasn’t too hard. This was one of the coolest places I have stayed in my entire trip. The work for the tv crew only took ten minutes, then I had a quick lunch before grabbing the 320pm shuttle for my 335 bus to Brisbane. The shuttle girl was running late, so a couple of us had to run to catch it as Mr. Busdriver was closing the luggage bin. I got my normal front seat, and chatted briefly with Gary, the bus driver, before delving back into my book.

It was a short bus ride, only a few hours, which was good, and had a brief conversation with Paula and Ross Galloway, a couple whom I met in Steamboat in January, and we had plans to meet up on Sunday. They are super-nice and I was looking forward to seeing them again…She also gave me some good advice on how to spend the day tomorrow, with nice weather, away from the city…

When I arrived in Brisbane, dropped my belongings off at the backpacker, and headed to a bar that Mr. Bus Driver suggested to watch the New Zealand versus Australia rugby game, the Normbanby Hotel. At the bar, I was waiting to order a beer when I met a group of rowdy fellows. They were pretty fun and intrigued that I was traveling by myself, at a bar by myself, to watch a game…Hey, what can I say, I am a sports fan. There was another gentleman with the group, Tim, who was in the Australian military who would not stop talking…after my beer and the game, I quickly departed to avoid Tim, and for my early wake up to catch the 820 train to Cleveland (Australia, not Ohio) to jump on a ferry to Stradbroke Island, the recommendation by Paula. Only three days in Brisbane, and they were going to be action-packed!

4/29/11
After a long morning on the bus, we (we…as in Adam, Bill, and I) arrived in Hervey Bay around 2pm, just as the rain began. The three of us determined that we were going to be on the same Fraser Island tour too. They seemed nice enough. Bill had been in Australia for four months doing a bit of working, but mostly traveling. Adam is one of Bill’s best friends who decided to take three weeks of work to travel down the East Coast with Bill. The boys were on a nonstop, whirlwind tour.

Upon reaching the hotel, we check in with Sharese…Oh, boy, Sharese. She had enough energy and enthusiasm for her job and life to fill an Olympic size swimming pool three times over. I was a bit taken aback when I met her with all of the ‘Awesome’s’ and valley girl talk. Apparently it isn’t an act that is how she is all the time...I could only take for about six minutes.

After we settled into our rooms, we had about an hour before we were meeting our guide to go over whatever it was we needed to know about the trip come tomorrow. In that time, we met another trip companion, Shibvon. She was another UK girl that had been working at the Gold Coast Sea World as a diver for the last six months, but just began traveling again. She was instantly nice and bubbly, but not in the Sharese way. The four of us decided to prepare the same meals while camping to save some costs. It wasn’t long and we had a menu for the weekend, then some Scottish boy (who I could not understand at all, which Adam translated for me) took us to the market. In forty-five minutes time, with a bit of bargain hunting, we were set with our provisions, plus two cases of beer and Shibvon’s bottle of bourbon. It was bound to be a good weekend, even though I had no idea what to expect from the island or how we were going to fill three whole days.

Back at the hostel, we were all hungry. Shibvon and the boys decided to go to an Irish pub down the street, and decided to cook and to get a little bit of Melanie time before the trip. In the process, I met three others that were going with us…Sarah, Rebecca, and Henrick from Sweden. They seemed nice, but it was really hard to tell what they were saying in Swedish. Tomorrow was going to be an early start again, 545am, for a 6am ‘Safety Video’ about driving on sand…whooo…

4/30/11
The alarm went off at 545, and I was first to check out, but last to arrive in the media room for the safety video because I needed a cup of coffee at this hour. The video explained how to drive on sand, what to do if we got stuck, and how to act if we were approached by a Dingo. Apparently Fraser Island is the largest sand island in the world, so that would be the only surface we would be driving on for the next three days…sans the roads and rivers to get there. I paid close attention just in case I would drive, but then it the actors became slightly entertaining. During the video was also the time where we met the last two travelers in the group, Chris and Kim who are originally from Chicago, but now living and working in Brisbane after a stint in London. They are in their late 20’s, outgoing, and fun.

Following the drive and introductions, we loaded up the Land Cruisers with our small bags, food, and alcohol and headed off towards the ferry to load the trucks. It was a ten minute drive and a thirty minute ferry to the island. As we set off, we had two groups: Adam, our ‘safety coordinator’ was the lead truck housing Adam and me, and then the other truck Bill took his turn at driving.

Our first stop was about twenty minutes away to Central Station. Here there was an information center about the island and a forty-five minute hike through the rainforest. There were heaps (an Australian word for ‘a lot’…they use it heaps) of people, but we managed to finagle our way around them until we had the trail to ourselves. During this time, Shibvon was leading the way in full force so she could be alone to hear the birds and animals, Kim and I spend the whole time chatting about teaching (she is a teacher too), then the boys and the Swedes were behind. It was a lovely walk that followed a creek that was partially full of crystal clear water and lush vegetation. It was definitely a place where I could have spent a lot longer walking through.

From there we loaded back in the Cruisers to Enrong, a semi-resort community with a hotel, a store, bakery, and a tourist shop. Here we had a picnic lunch in the park, with the sounds of crashing waves in the background, and left over chocolate Easter eggs, compliments of Adam Troy’s girlfriend.
Back in the trucks, we loaded for a fifteen minute drive to Lake Wabbly. None of us knew about the lake, but Adam Troy said it was good. Our directions were: Head up the trail to the sand, and when you get there, you’ll think there isn’t a lake, but keep going following the markers, and then you will find the lake. We followed the directions, along with another tour group, and when we go to the extremely, large open sandy area, the other guide was overheard by Bill saying, ‘Hmm, well…there used to be a lake here. I guess it dried up’. This statement sent Bill into a minor hissy-fit…Until Adam and I set him straight. It was another hundred meters or so until we found ourselves on a massive sand hill, staring down at an inland lake, with catfish swimming about visibly. It seemed a bit unreal that this lake would be in the middle of this Sahara-like sand. The boys took off running down the hill and diving into the water, then emerging bug-eyed with the chilliness of the water.

The rest of us took in the scene and some pictures before making our way down. The water was cold, I’m not going to lie, and the catfish hugging the shoreline was enough for me to just wade while throwing the football and chatting. Adam, Bill, Chris, Kim, Shibvon, and I spent the next few hours talking about sports, movies, books, television shows, politics…pretty much the entire gamut. It was fun breaking away from the normal traveler conversation and getting to know others on a personal level. From these few hours, I knew that I would be spending the next three days with some quality people.

Around 330, we packed up our towels and sauntered back to the trailhead to meet Adam Troy. In the process, we and another group were quoting Will Ferrell movies that nearly put us in stitches. Adam was waiting and was disappointed that we were five minutes late, but we knew he wouldn’t have left without us. Back at camp we claimed our tents, viewed the amazing ocean scenery, and cracked open our first beer by five o’clock. The drinking didn’t stop while we grilled up some burgers and continued to chat. It was a great day and night, and I was excited about how what would come tomorrow.

5/1/11
It never hurts to start your day with a walk on the beach. It is even better around 630am, when no one else is around. That is how ‘May Day’ began for me…and what made it even better was the fact that I had the length of the beach to myself. The sun was rising, waves were huge, and the thought of being attacked by a dingo only entered my head a few times. After about an hour and a half, I found myself back at camp with nearly everyone else up making or eating breakfast before our 9am departure.

We headed north with Adam Troy driving the lead vehicle and the revolving door of drivers in the Trooper following. Our first stop was the Maheno ship wreck. Adam Troy played it down, but upon arrival I was a bit impressed. A massive mini-Titanic-like boat was semi-submerged in the sand. The outside was orange with rust, and eroded holes have appeared nearly everywhere. There was a brief five minute stop at ‘The Pinnacles’ and sandstone-type hill that looked like a combination of a huge termite hill and The Badlands National Park hills. Five minutes was all we needed to see this landmark lacking a descent trail. Next stop was a more impressive cliff face of ‘Indian Head’. The sand parking lot was nearly full as we stammered up the narrow trail through the tall grass lands to an overlook of rocks and beach. It was a gorgeous view and despite all the signs that said ‘Don’t go beyond this point’, most of us did to check out the views of the drop below.

The next stop was approximately twenty minutes way to ‘Champagne Pools’. With a name like that, we all knew we were going to have an opportunity for a swim. When we arrived, again, the car park was packed, but we took the short wooden boardwalk walk and realized why there were so many cars. Looking below, we saw three distinct pools of glorious blue water in front of a wall of volcanic rock with heaps of little fish swimming about, crashing waves behind, and a small caramel colored-sand beach…with tons of various shades of towels spread out all over. Our little group found a nice spot by the rocks, laid out our towels, striped down to our suits and began to work on our tans. It was a great day to be working too. The sun was blaring, but there was also a slight ocean breeze to keep our temperatures in check. After a picnic lunch, we tested the pools, some more than others. A bit later, a shore bird joined the mass of people in the pool for a lunch of its own. The bird ducked its head below the water and pulled out a good size fish. The pool patrons cheered as the bird took the fish down in three gulps. It was all very exciting.

The last stop for the day was Eli Creek. We had passed it once on the way to Indian Head, but it was Adam Troy’s favorite spot, so again, we realized that it was going to be another good stop. Adam Troy had spent a lot of time on Fraser, so we trusted his opinion. When we arrived there were several cars and busses there, but not at the frequency of the other two places of the day. As we approached the creek there was another wooden boardwalk, a small swimming hole, and the creek that emptied into a larger pool before reaching a sandbank…then the ocean. The typical ‘Eli Creek’ game plan was to leave your belongings at the end, walk to the head of the creek, and then walk down to the mouth. Adam and Bill brought the football (Freddy, as Adam called it), which made me happy. When we reached the entry point, we all waded in and were a bit taken aback by the crisp water, but soon the chilliness faded away, and we began the walk. The trees lining the bank varied from mangroves to birch-type trees with paper-like bark, along with lush, green vegetation. The ball was being thrown back and forth with the boys and me, Shibvon was doing the breast stroke, Kim was still a little weary of the temperature, and the Swedes were nowhere to be found. We had so much fun walking the creek so we headed back to the beginning for a second run.

After that, nearly everyone retired to their respected beach towels. Chris was still dealing with his hangover from the previous night (it was four o’clock by now), Kim and Shibvon were gabbing away, and Adam, Bill, and I tossed the ball. Everyone was happy, until Adam Troy came to get us to head back to camp. We were a little bummed, but our tummies needed a snack before we began drinking beer.

Before we started cooking, we all went in different directions. The Swedes went to the beach to take goofy pictures of each other jumping…kind of fun, actually. I felt a little fat, so I did a reenactment of Cairns’ boot camp, and everyone else was doing whatever. It wasn’t long until the sun began to fade and we were all around the camp kitchen. Our snack held us over for a bit, so we cracked some beers and the cards. We started out playing ‘Thirty-One’ then moved to ‘Shithead’.

There was a brief break for dinner, then Adam Troy introduced ‘Chase the Ace’…by this point our beers were flowing at a steady pace, but nothing that was going to haunt us in the morning. However, Shibvon’s bourbon and Coke’s were going down like there was no tomorrow. Pretty soon she was so hammered that she nearly missed the Dingo to camp! The Dingo was had a lovely orange tint and was scavenging our scraps from the sink that were emptied to the nearby grass area. We all watched the wild dog, as he watched us. Unfortunately, the loud camp next door managed to scare it away.
It wasn’t long before we were back playing cards, and Shibvon was even more drunk…so much she was disrupting the card game, so that dissolved fairly quickly too. She made her way to her tent to sleep…not inside her tent, but just outside. (Adam got a great picture). We stayed up a bit later chatting, but we were all tucked inside our tents by 1130pm. Day two on Fraser was amazing, but tomorrow we were suppose to see the infamous Lake McKenzie…I was psyched.

5/1/11
With the multiple beers I had while playing cards, I wasn’t one bit surprised to have to rise before light to relieve myself. However, when I looked at my phone for the time, it was nearly 530am and through my window I could see a pinky-orange-purple hue coming from above the ocean. After taking care of business, I had two choices: Go back to sleep before I become too awake to sleep again OR grab my camera and head to the beach to capture a sunrise on Fraser. Decision was a no-brainer. Along with my camera, I grabbed a ‘jumper’ because it was still a bit brisk. I was amazed to see the difference in sunrise and sunset. The ball of fire seems to just drop like a yo-yo, but the sunrise was taking its time. It moved from a deep purple, with a tint of pink, to pink with a tint of orange, and lastly orange, with a tine of yellow, to a full yellow bright day. Despite losing some sleep, I knew I made the right decision.

By the time I got to camp from the beach, almost everyone was up, even Shibvon! We spent a few minute reminding her of actions of the previous night…hitting her head on the table, falling down in the grass…and sand…and outside her tent. She said she doesn’t remember, so it didn’t happen. That was just about the time Adam busted out the camera to show physical events. We were all glad she was alright. After a quick breakfast, we packed up, swept out our tents and loaded the vehicles. Our last day on Fraser was going to be spent touring the southern lakes and ending the day at Lake McKenzie before making the three o’clock barge.

It was going to be about a fort-five minute drive Adam Troy warned us about it the roads were decent. And since these lakes are less visited than McKenzie, he expected that they would be. The drive was stunning. There were so many different landscapes, for a place that is supposedly supposed to be the world’s largest sand island. There were parts that were rain forest, others that were pine tree forest, and even full on tall green grass savannahs. When we arrived to Lake Boomejean, Kim and I headed straight for the toilet, the others went to the lake. On our way, sitting right in the middle of the path was a Guana lizard, about a yard long, and a thick body that could have been a rotisserie meal for the Aboriginals. I jumped back, but Kim had more familiarity with them from her trip to Whitehaven Beach in the Whitsundays. I managed to take a few pictures before getting too weirded out. We hustled to the lake to inform the others, but they were already on their way back from the lake because there was no beach-all water. Adam Troy had heard a rumor about one of the lakes being flooded…we guessed this was it. Bummer, but the rest ran to the toilet area to check out the lizard anyway.

The next lake, Lake Bremmaman, was only about twenty minutes away and again it was another easy drive…so we thought, until we saw a couple that had managed to get their small SUV suck in a large, swampy mud puddle. The man tied a tow rope to Adam Troy’s truck and after a few jerking attempts, they were free. We weren’t sure why they drove through the middle in the first place, but whatever. A few minutes later, we found ourselves at another flooded lake, with the only beach a hundred wading yards away. It would have been cool being so secluded on the white sand, but we opted for more time at McKenzie instead. The Swedes were happy, that is what they wanted all along.

Adam Troy told us the drive will probably take longer because this is such a popular spot to visit the roads tend to get chaotic easier and more often. But luck must have been on our side, but the all the roads leading to the lake had recently been grated…which cut down the drive time significantly. We were all excited to see what this lake we been hearing so much about, was actually about. With our beach gear in tow, we took the five minute walk to be facing a place that didn’t look like a lake, but a Fijian island of tropical, crystal blue water and brilliant white sand. But it wasn’t an island, it was a lake. For once I was speechless. There weren’t as many people here as Adam Troy warned me about, so we quickly found a spot with sun and a little bit of shade for Shibvon’s fair skin. The girls went to lie out, while I joined the boys in the water to play catch. The game we were playing of ‘Catchy-Throwy’ (as Adam Troy called it), turned into Chris and mine’s recess game of ‘500’. We played a few rounds, and seemed to be some quality entertainment for the beach goers. After the pushing, diving, and grabbing of the ball in 500, we settled back down into a short range game of Catchy-Throwy, and then I went to join the girls in the sun. We were all enjoying our time at such an unreal place. Now we knew what all the fuss was about because it soon became our favorite spot on the island too.

After a brief lunch among the birds and guanas, we headed back to the beach front for our last hour at the lake. The white sand felt even more amazing, the water was bluer, as was the sky. It was a perfect afternoon. We concluded our day by conducting a group photo to remember each other and this fantastic spot.

It was about ten after two when we were back in the trucks for the twenty minute drive to catch the 3pm barge, and Adam Troy was obliviously feeling a bit nervous about making the departure, when Shibvon asked in her cute British accent, “Adam, have you ever missed a barge?”
“Nope. Never have, never will.” was his response.

I knew we had plenty of time, and I couldn’t understand his nervousness until we showed up at the loading dock and there wasn’t a soul there. Adam slyly took the barge ticket from the glove compartment and read that the barge left at two, not three because of low tide. He immediately turned sullen, and arranged for us to catch the next barge at five pm…two and a half hours later. Kim and Chris were disappointed because they still had to drive to Brisbane so Kim could prepare for her observation the following day. They rest of us could really care less.

With two plus hours to kill, the boys and I managed to entertain ourselves by playing homemade Cricket, tossing the football, Chase the Ace, and Butts-Up, another childhood recess game. Before we knew it, we were loading the barge as the sun was making another magnificent showing of itself setting. At this point, Adam Troy told us it was all part of his plan so we could see this from the ferry…yeah right.

Back at the lodge, we cleaned out the trucks, said goodby to Kim and Chris, and hit the showers for five dollar pizza night. Shibvon was staying with a friend, but came back to get us. We grabbed the pizzas to go and barely chatted about the trip while we fed our hungry bellies. Shibvon was gone within the hour, and the boys stayed up and chatted until ten or so…I went to bed, they went to catch their midnight bus to Byron Bay…Adam didn’t have much time before he left, so they continued their whirlwind tour. We exchanged email addresses and agreed it was the best experience of Australia, thus far.

4/24/11
The alarm went off early…very early 415am Easter morning because Shannon’s flight was to depart at 545. It didn’t take long to pack up and drive to the airport. Dropping her off was a bit sad for me. It sure had been nice sharing some of these amazing experiences and sights with such a good friend. We wished each other well and said we would meet up for a drink in a month when I return.

My morning was spent organizing my bag for travel, returning the rental car, and checking some emails. But I didn’t have too much time to dilly-dally because my bus to Townsville left at 730am.

The bus ride was nice and short, only five hours and it was great to just be a passenger again to view the eclectic landscape of Australia. Upon arriving in Townsville, I quickly grabbed my ticket ferry to Magnetic Island, and then twenty minutes later over some rough waters, I was on the island bus to my resort.

It seemed like a really long day of travel, and I guess it was, but I needed some exercise. I took a quick walk to the market, and then I did a jaunt over to Balding Bay. It was evident that there had been significant cyclone damage here too. Large trees were down. The dead leaves lay all over the ground, and once hidden, but now exposed boulders protruded everywhere. The bay was magnificent by the beautiful blue water that was surrounded by mountains trees and rocks. It didn’t even feel like I was in Australia. A ‘Maggie Island’ local, Alex, was there snapping pictures and he and I walked back to Horseshoe Bay in near darkness, and he told me about different hikes and about life on the island.

Back at the lodge, I met up with Amanda, the girl from Sweden who I met in Cairns, and her roommates Zelda and Lindsey. We ate dinner, had some drinks at the bar and swapped stories….A typical Australian holiday night. I went to bed knowing that I would be missing Easter with my family and the big brunch spread they put on…oh well, more beaches for me tomorrow.

4/25/11
Feeling rejuvenated a bit guilty, I rose early for some breakfast and some computer time to email and update. A 1030, I spent an hour by the pool, trying to fight through my newest boring British book, and patiently wait until snorkel gear was free. At 1145, I grabbed the snorkeling gear, a packed lunch, and three liters of water for a big day of hiking, beaches, and snorkeling, and hopefully some koala in the wild spotting.

He walk started similarly to the previous night’s hike, but this time when I arrived at Balding Bay, the sun…and the moon were out. Apparently, Balding Bay was a clothing optional beach in the day. A middle aged man that was more comfortable with his body than he should have been was out frolicking in the water, begging for attention. I quickly continued on after some daylight pictures…of the bay, not the guy.

Continuing on, Alex told me how I can climb over the rocks to the next beach, Radical Bay, instead of backtracking to the trail. Despite my average rock climbing skills, I should have stuck to the trail. Going to Radical Bay via rocks was a bad idea. It was very steep, uneven, and slippery. There was one point that I thought I might die. Luckily, I made it with only a few scratches and potential bruises. Basically, I want to forget about the whole experience.

From the climbing extravaganza, I ditched Radical Bay for any swimming, reading, or working and headed straight to Florence Bay, via the trail. It was about a twenty minute walk, probably three times shorter than the trail around the rocks, but there was nothing I could have done about the lost time now. I checked my phone and it was 230. I had my sack lunch on the beach watching five kids and their parents surf the little waves with in the bay. No one had a ’Stinger’ suit on, which made me laugh because the lady at the lodge got very frustrated with me when I told her I wasn’t going to rent one…Now I know I was right. Time in Florence was relaxing. I went for a swim, waiting the appropriate 45 minutes after you eat rule, while reading my book and working on my tan. After beginning to sweat, I took a little dip in the water that had perfect temperature…a little initial chill, then lukewarm bath-like water.

After drying off, I headed to Arthur’s Point, not sure how long I wanted to stay because of timing the outings of koalas on the hike to the Fort at around four. I reached in my backpack to check the time, but my phone was nowhere to be found. A slight panic caused me to run back to Florence and check the area where I was eating lunch…but no avail. However, when I asked the nearby family, they had said they found a phone! I went through the recent calls and contacts, all people I knew…yeah me.

At this point it was 430, so I high-tailed it back by Arthur’s Bay and up to the Fort walk. The hike was supposed to be an hour and half return. I knew I could beat that, and still make it back before dark. The hike was mountains, like, but not as steep as anything I have done abroad. Upon reaching the top, there were different site where the old Australian army had set up a watch. The army sites were average, most were lacking interpretative explanation, but the views were amazing. I could see Horseshoe, Balding, and Arthur’s Bay all from the top…but no koalas. This is the hike they were supposed to be on, and I was a bit sad I missed them.

I headed back down the hike to start my jaunt to Horseshoe just before 6, just e sun was going to drop. I arrived back at the lodge, and the place was hopping for Anzac Day, Australia’s own Veteran’s Day. A quick shower, and met Zelda and the girls at the bar for some celebratory drinks and pizza, while we listened to the fun band playing typical covers and watching the old ladies dance.

4/26/11
Today was going to be another travel day. I woke up early to eat some breakfast, pack my back and to be on the bus at 930 to catch the 1015 ferry, to hitch an eleven-thirty bus to Airlie Beach.
Everything went as according to plan. Drive was fine, got some good reading and writing done, checked out the landscape as the bus whizzed by at 100km an hour. I rushed down to the Esplanade to check in for my sailing trip the following day, and dealt with Hannah, a worker that was about as friendly as a red brick. Poor Hannah couldn’t be bothered with my questions about my first sailing trip ever. Thanks Hannah.

After that I checked into the backpacker, I met a girl Kate from Chicago who had just come back from the trip I was going to take. She had lots of good praises for the boat and the people, but the weather received the only negative feedback. Good thing I didn’t need Hannah’s help after all. I packed my small bag with just the necessities for two days on the sailboat, in time to make some dinner and participate in Quiz Night as the rain began to rapidly fall.

I was teamed up with Lindsay, a girl from the UK, and Lisa from Austria. The questions were all over the map, but our team ended up winning by two points and received a bottle of champagne. Yeah us.

With the steady downpour, I watched ‘Step Brothers’ with the rest of the folks, then read my books and planned to get a good night’s sleep for the early awaking day of sailing tomorrow.

4/27/11
I woke up early with my bag already packed to enjoy a cup of coffee and time alone. One thing I have realized is going on these mini-tours is you never know what kind of crowd you will get. I could have stayed a few more months with the people from Africa, but beside Catherine and Raphaelle, I was done after 8 hours with some folks from the Doubtful Sound trip. All I knew was… it was going to be interesting to spend two whole days with the same 25 people on a sailboat with little space, surrounded by water and nowhere to run.

After gathering my ‘small bag for the two days, I took the twenty minute walk down the Airlie Beach esplanade to the harbor where I would meet the sailing group and see check out the vessel.

The boat was called the ‘Siska’, at forty feet-ish long and capacity of twenty-two passengers, bunks as we loaded. The wooden steps to the hull were steep, and there were the red ship was in for a couple tough days at sea. There was a brief talk at the boat about do’s and don’ts, and then Travis showed us our bunks. Fourteen singles and four double beds occupied the small area, along with two bathrooms, a long table, and the cramped cooking area. Oh yeah, it was going to be cozy.

Once we set sail, Mikey, the deckhand gathered us on top and explained’ the sailing and what was going to happen the next two days. He introduced Jason, the ‘Skippa’ and Travis the ‘hostey’. The skies were gray with complete cloud cover, yet we were sitting on deck with hopes to catch a glimpse of the sun. The twenty one passengers consisted of two big groups. ‘The Canadians’ were odd…Jen and Laura were the daughters of Sue, traveling with Jen’s husbands parents, Jan and Jim. Jan and Jim were not at all quiet on any part of the initial talks. We all knew why there son didn’t join them on the boat. ‘The Australians’ were a young group from Coffs Harbor, just enjoying a long holiday weekend. If this group was sleeping, they pretty much kept to themselves. There was also a young Swiss couple, an Irish couple, a pair of friends from the UK, and a single lad on holiday from the UK, as well as two single women travelers, one from Brazil and one from Germany. It was an eclectic group.

When we hit the open water, Mikey began to make the maneuvers to raise the sails and drop the motor. Despite my raising hand, he didn’t call on me to assist when he asked for volunteers…little did I know, he didn’t let any women participate the whole two days. Instead, Ed, from the UK jumped up and let out the front sail. I spent most of the morning talking with him after his duties were done. He apparently was a veteran sailor. His folks had a sailboat on the south shores of Britain where he spent many a weekends. It was nice having someone knowledgeable around to answer my hundreds of questions.

After a few hours of sailing, as the rain was falling on and s snorkeling topped Fitzroy by a long short. There was numerous times where I found myself completely surrounded by schools of colorful fish. There were fish that had stripes like a zebra, florescent pink with green outlined scales, bright yellow ones, translucent ones, big and small…then there was ‘Elvis’. Elvis is the legendary fish that lives in the cove who is very friendly, a beautiful turquoise-blue color, but not on the small side. In fact, Elvis was quite large. Although I cannot truly gauge his size with the magnification of the water, but it seemed as though he was a meter plus long and half a meter tall, with eyes that were big and bulgy that would follow and stare you up and down. He was so much fun to watch. It was also fairly entertaining to watch the smaller fish follow Elvis around…either drafting or for security. The coral was also amazingly bright with brilliant purple and blue clams that would open and close systematically. It was a ball swimming under all that water and avoiding the rain above.

After forty-five minutes or so, we loaded back up in the dingy to return to the ‘Siska’ for a little lunch. I didn’t have much time because I was set up to do an introductory dive at 130, which I was really excited, but slightly nervous for. Mikey took the Brazilian and me over to the dive boat where we filed the required paperwork to ensure we wouldn’t sue if we died and received a twenty or so lesson on the physiology of diving and some basic techniques and tips. The biggest one for me was the value of equalizing my ears early and often during the descent. Having my ears hurt was my biggest concern because I was a total rookie, but I knew I was going to be alright. After we passed our safety quiz, we were taken out to the beach where we would wait for Michelle, our dive instructor.

Michelle got us into the water, just as the rain decided to start to fall again. She explained a few essentials of finding our regulator if it gets lost, put it back in our mouth underwater, and how to clear our masks of water. It was definitely a bit weird breathing completely underwater, compared to snorkeling. The pure air flow made my mouth and throat dry and cold, but that was soon forgotten as I had Elvis coming within inches of my mask. His large eye was on a swivel as he was watching our every move. Dropping to about nine meters, my ears were fine and my eyes were shocked on the life under the surface. It was an amazing experience and the thirty minute intro dive was quickly over.

Back on board the Siska, it was apparent that it had been raining with a slick deck surface and the number of passengers that were on their second beer while playing card games in the hull. Despite the rain, Ed the UK bloke, the German girl, and a couple others stayed on the deck as we sailed to the cove where we would hunker down for the night. Because of the rain and winds, the cove where we decided to anchor was pretty busy, which caused us to stay just on the inside, but would give us a shorter route to Whitehaven Beach in the morning.

Once anchored, Travis brought out some yummy nachos as we drank beer, put up the canvas cover, and continued the yarns. The perfect spot for talking I had found was right on the steps between the deck and the hull. It wasn’t too hot like the hull and not too cold like the boat’s deck, but a temperature that was just right. The three UK guys, one of the Australians, and me found this awesome spot to chat while Travis was busy making pasta with Bolognese sauce below.

After dinner with the deck temperatures on the cold side, six of us decided to play some card games. Four of the Canadians, Ed, Travis, and I played a series of games, not even drinking games, until 1130. At this point, others were trying to sleep and our constant laughing wasn’t the most respectful thing to do in such small quarters. We all went to bed with the aspirations of seeing some bit of sun in the morning. However, despite the consistent rain throughout the day, I would consider it a success with the SCUBA activity and the meeting of some quality people.

4/28/11
Unfortunately we all rose to more overcast skies that appeared to be full of rain that we would meet up with later. Jason, the captain, revved up the motor before 8am and we had about a two hour commute to Whitsunday Island the infamous Whitehaven Beach.

It wasn’t long into our journey where we caught up to the rain and we motored, not sailed all the way to the island. Reaching the island, Mikey ran shuttles from the Siska to the land in the dingy. Jan, the loud Canadian and Adam were some of the first ones to take the trip…since they had sea sickness the last fourteen hours. Ouch.

On the island, we took the short hike to the overlook. The water was gorgeous, as was the sand. However, if the sun was remotely shining it would have been more definitive. Our view was not those of the postcards we saw in every Airlie Beach store. Oh well, we had the football, we were going to make the best of it.

On the beach the sand felt like the sand of Tasmania. Soft, fine, and squeaky. The rain began to really fall as Ed, Bill, Adam and me began tossing the American football, looking for rays, and running through the water that was as warm as a bath. It was so much fun. I was trying to teach them how to throw, as Adam was trying to teach me how to kick it like a rugby ball with backspin. After about forty-five minutes, we noticed the rest of the group making the trudge back up the trail to meet Mikey and the dingy. I couldn’t help wonder about what fun this place would be on a nice day.

Back on the boat, we again cranked the motor and headed back towards the wharf. It was going to be about three hours, and Mikey hoped to get the sails up at some point. As we cruised along, the rain altered from a soft drizzle to a torrential downpour, with the temperatures being a bit colder than the day before, which made it less pleasant, but just slightly bearable to sit on the deck as we bashed through the waves.

As we went through the last passage of islands, Mikey, Travis, and only the boy helpers put up the sails. It was peaceful to have the sound of the roaring motor off only to hear the wind whistling, rain pattering, and waves crashing. The wind was moving and pushing the Siska with some great force as it was nearly tipped on its side, with the rails inches away from the water multiple times. Apparently this was sailing because the crew was hooting and hollering with the boats performance.

Around four o’clock, after an exciting voyage we reached the wharf as the sun was coming out…go figure. We unloaded our belongings, thankful to be on solid ground again, and hiked back to our accommodations. The plain was to get a shower we all desperately needed and to meet up around 7pm for beers and dinner at the local pub.

I was scheduled to take the 630 bus, which was going to be a stretch, so pushed my travel time back to 1130pm, another overnighter, which Adam and Bill were also on. The bar was packed, but I was soon sleepy and ready to head to Hervey Bay and to begin my next adventure on Fraser Island. All I wanted was to see some sun for the next three days…if not next 22 days.

4/17/11
Busy day…I had lots to do before picking up Shannon. First things first was to check out after staying five nights in one place, it was nice to be settled, but I was excited to get going again. Michael from the rental car place picked me up and gave me my wheels. It was a red Hyundai Getz, awesome. Back in town I went to book all my plans for accommodations, buses, and activities for Magnetic Island, The Whitsundays, Fraser Island, and Noosa. I didn’t want to stress about getting that done when Shannon was here. After all the errands, I still manage to spend an hour or so working on my tan and reading my book.

At two o’clock, I was outside Cairns airport holding a ‘S. Forbes’ sign which made Shannon light up when she saw it, and it made me laugh too. It was really good to see her wearing long leggings and a long sleeve shirt and sandals… Apparently it was snowing in Steamboat when she left. She had delivered a little package from Steamboat for me, which then made me light up as well. We immediately got into the Getz and drove to Port Douglas chatty the entire time about what has gone on the last couple months of our life. It was great having here there.

The drive snuggly followed the coast, with beautiful views of the water and various beaches of Palm Cove and Ellis. Throughout the drive we continued to catch up on our lives, admiring the beauty in the process. We arrived around 4pm to Port Douglas and I noticed it is similar to Cairns, but without the super-touristy feel. We walked around town, through the park, and down the entire Four Miles Beach. By the time we got back it was around 730 and we were starving. We split a pizza for her belated birthday dinner, and headed for the Parrot Lodge. No camping for us girls tonight, someone (not me) had a very long day of travel.

4/18/11
We woke up early, 730-ish, to some very loud birds outside the Parrot Lodge, how fitting. Eating breakfast with a pile of area activity brochures, decided to make the drive to Cape Tribulation, in Daintree National Park. The drive was to be a couple of hours, including a car ferry over the Daintree River. The sky was partly sunny, but was looking more overcast the further north we drove, and then a bit of rain began splattering the windscreen as we reached the ferry. I didn’t think it would last.

We bypassed Daintree Village and headed straight for the Cape because Shannon read in her book about a steep trek to Mt. Sorrow with amazing views to the water. We meandered through the rainforest’s roads. The vegetation was green, lush, and provided a heavy canopy for any sunlight to reach the Getz.

We arrived at Kujui Park around 1230, which was the base for Cape Tribulation beach and the Mt. Sorrow trailhead. There were a couple of day tour buses in the lot, some groups picnicking and others and the beach. We decided to have a quick lunch before tackling the hike…that was supposed to be started ‘no later than 10’, we found out later. With our bellies full of sandwiches, pretzels, and an orange, we hit the pavement to the start of the walk with an overcast sky above us. With a bit of cyclone damage from February, the start was a slight challenge to find, but Shannon spotted it like a hawk to a mouse.

As we began walking, it became more evident how badly the trail had been hit. Tree branches, endless amounts of fallen leaves, and mud slide areas were all around us. We started up the stone steps that zig-zagged through the rainforest. There we a couple of instances in the first twenty minutes where we were a bit confused about where to go because the trail seemed to disappear. We kept our eyes peeled for the orange triangular trail markers, but often had to make our own path to get to them. Over logs, under branches and slipping by the sharp-edged ferns we ambled on our own way. It wasn’t a trail that one could observe the scenery…it was necessary to keep your eyes on your steps.

I was following closely until Shannon abruptly stopped. When my eyes looked up, she was pointing to the largest spider web I have ever seen in my whole entire life, keeping in mind, a third of it had been missing, and it was still bigger than my own wingspan. Inside this massive web housed the largest spider I have ever seen in my whole entire life. The spider, we found out later, was a very large Golden Orb, although it was not golden by any means. It was black and with the body size of a silver dollar and legs that stretched out to the size of my hands. Both of us have a slight case of arachnophobia, but despite our fears we attempted to take some photos of this massive creature. After about five minutes of awe, Shannon asked me if I was ready to go back down and try a walk on the beach. Quite frankly, I was shocked she was abandoning the quest to tackle Mt. Sorrow, but so, so relieved. She communicated to that the mere idea of having that beast, or one of its relatives coming anywhere near her was enough to forgo the journey. Many people told us that the spider was harmless, but to quote Shannon, 'It may not be able to hurt me physically, but it does plenty for my psyche'.

Back at the car park, we walked up some steps and down a proper trail to Myramar Beach. The tide was out, and dead coral was clearly visible from the point where the trail met the sand. It didn’t take long for us to ditch our shoes, and begin the natural exfoliation on our feet. We continued our walk and gawked at two blokes that looked like they were constructing a makeshift raft of logs and rope. Our goal was to walk to the Cape Trib shop to set up a kayaking trip for the following morning. At some point, we missed the trail and found ourselves on one that was close, but slowly backtracked again with the warning calls from some construction worker…’If you go that way, my dog will attack you girls’. We kindly vacated the area with the man’s vague directions to the real store. Granted we never found the store by using his directions, but we did make it back to the Getz and she took us to a place called ‘PJ’s’. We set up our tour from a girl that clearly lacked knowledge about the area, and decided to camp there for the night.

After setting up the tent, we decided to venture out to one of the restaurants that the tour girl suggested, only to find out, that all the restaurants she suggested were closed. Sweet. Instead we settled back into PK’s for some Greek salad and a Roo (That would be ‘Kanga’ roo) steak…If I didn’t know what it was, I would have said it was from a cow, delicious. We ended up by having a drink with Todd, one of the workers from the Parrot Lodge from the previous night and his girlfriend. Todd was nice, and lucky for us, he was an expert on everything. The night was fun, but we retired to the cute yellow tent for an early rise to an 830am kayak.

4/19/11
We awoke very early with the sounds of birds and the feel of raindrops through the tent’s screen, but rose a few hours later with the sound of the phone alarm. After a quick breakfast, we waited for the shuttle to begin our kayak. Pete picked us up promptly at 830 and in the van were two other ladies, one from Boston and another from France. It was going to be a chick day on the water.

We got to the boats, walked them to the beach, and received a bit of paddling instructions before hitting it. We were in single kayaks, which was different from the other double experiences I have had. Shannon seemed excited to sea kayak from looking at my past photos and reading about the experiences, however, this was nothing like my past kayaks. The sky was overcast, and the rain was coming down hard enough to notice, but not enough to be truly bothered. The water had no similarity to the water of Doubtful Sound. Close to shore was pleasant, but out further it was easy to spot small whitecaps, despite having a reef there.

We paddled about twenty yards from shore around the bay and Pete was spotting small Tiger sharks and Manta rays for us. At one point, two decent size rays swam under Shannon’s vessels and she reacted by letting out a girlish shrill as if they were going to jump out of the water and attack. It was quite hilarious. We maneuvered inland, luckily I caught a wave that brought me in, and we weaved through a canal of mangroves. Pete told us with the treat of crocodiles in the area, it would be best if we stayed in the boat the entire time. I wasn’t going to argue.

Back out at sea, the next task to tackle was vying our way around a point, through a headwind and minor waves. This was true sea kayaking. He said it would take us about fifteen minutes of strong paddling, but seemed a bit longer. I was happy to reach the beach to give my back and shoulders a rest, lemonade, and sweet bread. The overcast sky seemed as though it wanted to break, with slight rays of sunshine coming through, but we were not completely clear of battling the elements. Before heading back, we made our way through another canal of mangrove trees whose roots fed into the water like a bundle of spaghetti noodles.

With the wind now at our backs, we started the paddle back, taking just half the time to get out, regardless of the downpour that hit us as we reached the rocky point. It didn’t last and before I knew it, there was a race to the beach…shockingly I lost. (Hard to believe, I know.) Pete was drafting my pull, and then bumped the rear of my kayak into a wave, causing my boat to run parallel with the beach. He drove us back to PK’s and we ate some lunch and made our next set of travel plans.

The plan was to head to Barron Gorge for a short hike and to look at the heavily flowing water. With the rain presenting itself again, we were happy to be in the Getz driving towards some blue sky. Arriving at Barron Gorge, the parking lot was full and we were lucky to have snagged one of the last parking spots. Packed our bags with water, a Power Bar, and an orange we hit the metal boardwalk. Walking approximately four minutes later we were at the river’s swimming hole. There were a handful of kids and several adults bearing the chilly river water. Shannon and I ditched the idea of swimming, took some photos, and worked our way through the flourishing rainforest. The trees were amazing. They were tall and broad, with multiple fingers of roots thriving from the center.

After an hour of walking, we were back at the car contemplating our next destination, which we had no idea was. While reading our books and checking the maps, I caught a glimpse of a dark brown mud clump on my ankle. But when I tried to remove it, it seemed to be stuck, and then there was a slight wiggle. At this point I let out my own girlish shrill in realizing there was a small leech on my skin. The only experience I have had with leeches is watching the movie Stand by Me, and the movie’s leech scene never sat well. So, with no help from Shannon, I was able to remove it with the flicking motion of my car key, leaving a oozing, bloody circle behind. Shannon then began to examine her own feet…she didn’t find one on herself, but I did. She also had an unwanted creek passenger on her foot. She yelped as well, hastily removed it with a tissue and chucked it out the window. Shannon now had a bloody spot on her ankle that matched mine…lucky girl.

The tough Colorado girls wanted to instantly escape this wilderness business and fancied some civilization. After spending about seven minutes looking at our guide books we decided on Mission Beach, about four hours away. But with it being nearly five o’clock we then changed to Babinda Beach which was about three hours drive. The plan sounded good…until we reached the conclusion to just drive to Palm Cove, which we could reach in forty-five minutes time.

With our stomachs growling, we pitched up the tent right next to the ocean, and headed down the Esplanade for some grub. After searching numerous menus, we ended up at off the beaten path establishment. Shannon was happy with her veggie stir fry and I was in heaven with my King Prawns over fettuccini in a pesto sauce…The only conversation that happened during dinner was complementing our meals. After dinner we took a walk down the main drag to help the meal digest, but eventually headed back to camp as the sound of the waves put us to sleep.

4/20/11
After a pleasant sleep and a less pleasant wake up by the local birds, that were gorgeous by the way, we had a leisure breakfast near the beach with our travel books and brochures again. Over a short period of time, we made the decision to stay in Palm Cove another night, then head to Cairns to grab a ferry to Fitzroy Island for two days. We got a great deal for the room ferry transfer, and were excited about the trip. We told the girl, Min, that we would be by at 7am to pick up the tickets to make the 730 ferry.

After breakfast and with the sun out, we headed down the Esplanade for some juice and coffee. Consuming our beverages in front of the beautiful ocean water along the horizon and swaying Palm trees above us was serene. Next we took our feet to the sand for a nice morning beach walk…that lasted a few glorious hours.

As we were walking we saw many sights. Big white parakeets, cute children playing in the ‘Stinger safe’ swim nets, patient dogs laying in the grass, and a dirty old man that asked us to remove our tops. After politely declining, we (quickly) made our way passed (D.O.M) and passed two more beaches to the end of the bay. At this point we turned around and headed back…in the process we found Shannon’s shorts that dropped on the way out and scurried past the D.O.M that now came down from the shade in front of our path with the same request. He received the same response.

With our cooler nearly empty we stopped by Pete’s for a little lunch, then back to the homestead to change into our work clothes…working on the tan clothes, oh yeah. We spent the next few hours lying in the sun, reading our books, and listening to nothing but children playing and the water rustling. It was one of the most peaceful and guiltless afternoons of my entire trip.

Around five, we headed back to shower and head to town for some market shopping and dinner. Coles, their grocery store chain, ended up being only a few minutes away and it was in the same building as a fish n’ chip venue. We hit two birds with one stone…sweet.
Back on the Esplanade we took another walk, which was more pleasant and didn’t have any D.O.M’s . I found some ice cream, and then we worked on packing our bags for Fitzroy because it was going to be an early, early morning.

4/21
The alarm went off briskly at 530am, and after a couple minutes we were up and running packing up camp and our belongings to be in Cairns by 7am to grab our tickets. By leaving at twenty after six, we had plenty of time to make it to town and complete a little drive by tour of the city for Shannon. We were outside Min’s office at 650 and patiently waited for the office to open. By grabbing a quick coffee inside the bustling market we killed about five minutes as we continued to wait. Seven rolled on, seven ten was here and gone, and then at 719, Min arrived and gave us our tickets. At this point, we knew it was going to be close, and were praying that the ferry wouldn’t leave as scheduled. Sure enough, as we got the car parked and ran to the ‘E Finger’ of the marine, we were pointed to our boat that was already through the gates of the wharf and in the open ocean.

From the marina, I called Min who was ‘shocked’ we didn’t make it. I asked her what she was planning on doing to amend the situation, such as, putting us on the 10am ferry, but she refused to be accountable for her actions and take responsibility. I calmly tried to use my ‘I Statements’ to express my frustration, but her passive aggressive comments that lacked sincere empathy caused me to hang up. We ambled back to the car and drove back to her office and as we walked in, we heard a semi-sarcastic, “Girls, what are we going to do?” My blood was nearing its boiling point and I told her she was going to put us on the 10am ferry. She said she couldn’t because it was with a different company and we continued this song and dance discussion for another twenty minutes.

We explained that we would not have been in this bind, if she was on time. Again, no responsibility was taken. Long story made a bit shorter, we were put on the 2pm ferry with the resort’s boat. If it were just me, six hours hanging round Cairns would suck, but I could have dealt, but the fact that Shannon was on such a tight schedule, I wanted here Australia time to be worthwhile. So from 830 until 130 we half heartily wandered the streets and Esplanade of Carins.

Just before two we were on board the boat, and highly anticipating our arrival to the resort. The ride was pleasant. The sun was out and a slight breeze was going as we enjoyed the scenery of the ocean from the top deck, with Hugh, the resort’s chef giving us some insightful commentary. The topic of our morning with Min came up and he said he was going to speak with the resort’s manager, despite my remarks that it was Min, and not the resort’s fault. He said he was going to do it anyway.

Arriving at the island, we noticed the lodge first. It was fairly large wooden structure that had three floors, white tile throughout the main level and a beautiful pool. We checked in for our one night at the resort, with Hugh behind us. He informed the concierge of our morning problems and Mike proceeded to give us free drink vouchers. At the room, there was a lovely decorated bed, chaise lounge, flat screen television and bathroom with dark marble tiles, g, lass enclosed shower, and an above basin sink. We felt like we were living large.

Because of our late arrival, we headed out pretty quickly to take a hike to the lighthouse. The leaflet said it would take about two hours round trip, and Hugh warned us of the steepness. We was make of started off down the trail, passed the campground where we spending the following night, and up the hill that a cement path. As we went up, we realized it was steep because our calves were feeling the burn. We reached a couple look out points, and took some photos. Within 45 minutes we were at the lighthouse. There was a slight disappointment. This lighthouse lacked any character or color. It was just a round/hexagonal plain white building…we couldn’t even go inside. However the views were outstanding.

We hiked down the way we came to a tributary path that lead to the Fitzroy Summit, which was approximately 750 meters up. The trail ambled over rocks, up stone step pathways, and tall green grasses that tickled our sweaty legs. Upon reading the summit, Shannon shrieked again over the sight of a very large lizard. Luckily, I didn’t see it. The view was amazing from the last bit of rocks I climbed up…360 degrees of Fitzroy.

We made it down, just before the sun set for good and enjoyed a nice shower to clean up before going to the resorts restaurant for dinner. After a long and odd glance from the hostess, we were seated and glanced over the short five item menu. I ended up ordering grilled chicken with a mushroom risotto and Shannon got a pasta with pumpkin and carrot pasta. Along with a couple vodka cocktails, it was a great dinner. The dinner even improved when our waiter took our bill and said it was covered by the manager because of the problems we had getting over to the island. Thanks Hugh!

We ended up going to Roxy’s, the island’s only bar, for another drink and the last bit of trivia night. Being only a Thursday, with the day-trippers gone, the bar was pretty desolate, we called it a night. It was a long day, but a good one in the end…

4/22/11
It is amazing how well one can sleep on a proper bed. After a long sleep and a lazy breakfast we got dressed in our togs, lathered on the sunscreen, and stopped by the dive shop for some snorkel gear before heading down to Nudey Beach. The beach was about a twenty minute walk through a rainforest type trail. The beach wasn’t really a true beach, or full of nude people for that matter. There was some sand, but most of the ground was covered in dead coral pieces. It was interesting to view and to think about how much coral is in that big ocean of ours. We found a nice sand spot away from the trail, and popped open our books.

After a bit of reading, the sun was beginning to beat down, so Shannon put on her ‘Stinger’ suit to protect her poor skin that go burned the previous day, our flippers, goggles, and snorkel to hit the water. The water was cool and refreshing. After swimming out just a short bit, we met hundreds of different colorful fish that I had no idea what their names were. We same around for about thirty minutes, then it was back to work on our tans. A couple more cycles of swimming and tanning is pretty much how the day was spent.

Moving to the campground was a little sad after the plush accommodations we had the previous night, but we were to make the best of it. We got ready by taking showers and getting dolled up before heading back to Roxy’s for their Friday night menu and live music. We ordered some pasta bowls and a couple of drinks, and were subjected into listen to the screams coming from the kids on the dance floor, with their oblivious parents sipping their twenty dollar martinis ignoring their behavior.

We were two teachers on holiday, who didn’t really want to hear the screams, and with the live entertainment gone we found no need to stay. It was a short night, but a good night.

4/23/11
Today was going to be another typical beach vacation day. After packing up camp, eating a quick breakfast, and putting our bags in storage. We headed straight to our little spot on Nudey Beach with only our towels, sunscreen, books, and a day cooler in tow. It was a peaceful day with blue skies, and even a bluer ocean. The wind had picked up, but that only helped control the heat, along with the occasional dip in the ocean. We noticed lots of snorkelers come and go, a nice fisherman Bob from Vermont, and a couple ‘posers’…a couple that took different pictures of each other posing. That was quality entertainment, especially when they handed me their camera.

We headed back to the resort around 2pm for a poolside cocktail and our last bit of sun before hitting the ferry back to Cairns. While waiting to load, there was a resort guy with fish food. It was like all the fish from the bay Pack up camp, Nudey Beach, Pool, Cairns market, dinner…knew it was free grub time, made their way to the pier. It was fun to see. Ferry back was a little chilly, with splashes coming from the sides, and on top.
Back in Cairns, it was back to the touristy atmosphere. We had a lovely Indian meal at the Night Markets, and did a slight bit of tourist shopping before chilling out for the night. It was going to be an early, early morning for us.

4/24/11
The alarm went off early…very early 415am Easter morning because Shannon’s flight was to depart at 545. It didn’t take long to pack up and drive to the airport. Dropping her off was a bit sad for me. It sure had been nice sharing some of these amazing experiences and sights with such a good friend. We wished each other well and said we would meet up for a drink in a month when I return.

My morning was spent organizing my bag for travel, returning the rental car, and checking some emails. But I didn’t have too much time to dilly-dally because my bus to Townsville left at 730am.

The bus ride was nice and short, only five hours and it was great to just be a passenger again to view the eclectic landscape of Australia. Upon arriving in Townsville, I quickly grabbed my ticket ferry to Magnetic Island, and then twenty minutes later over some rough waters, I was on the island bus to my resort.

It seemed like a really long day of travel, and I guess it was, but I needed some exercise. I took a quick walk to the market, and then I did a jaunt over to Balding Bay. It was evident that there had been significant cyclone damage here too. Large trees were down. The dead leaves lay all over the ground, and once hidden, but now exposed boulders protruded everywhere. The bay was magnificent by the beautiful blue water that was surrounded by mountains trees and rocks. It didn’t even feel like I was in Australia. A ‘Maggie Island’ local, Alex, was there snapping pictures and he and I walked back to Horseshoe Bay in near darkness, and he told me about different hikes and about life on the island.

Back at the lodge, I met up with Amanda, the girl from Sweden who I met in Cairns, and her roommates Zelda and Lindsey. We ate dinner, had some drinks at the bar and swapped stories….A typical Australian holiday night. I went to bed knowing that I would be missing Easter with my family and the big brunch spread they put on…oh well, more beaches for me tomorrow.

4/13/11
The night was short, not much sleep after the late arrival, and the day was fairly uneventful with much of it being a blur. The morning was spent having a great breakfast and walking around the town of Cairns. The town is much like what I had heard, lots of tourist booking centers, souvenir shops, backpackers, and dive companies. Despite all that, I had a good vibe about the place. The sun was out, it was warm, my skin was beginning to brown…no rain, how could I complain? After the walk about, I went back to my hotel pool and decided to try and relax, read my Fletch book, and get a little work done…on my tan.

After a bit, and feeling a little bit of pressure to prepare some activity options for Shannon’s arrival, I hit the tourists office for some brochures and ideas for Daintree and Cape Tribulation, but didn’t spend a whole lot of time because I knew I still had a few days. No pressure.

After reading a map, I noticed that they offered free exercise classes down at the Esplanade. Wednesday nights just happen to be ‘Bootcamp’ night. What could it hurt? Haven’t worked out since I have been gone, besides hiking, swimming, and paddling…it should be good. Changed into my only workout attire, all-purpose hiking/trail sneakers and met up with the group. When the class got started there were about forty participants, of all shapes and sizes…some looked to be marathon runners, others…not so much.

We started by jogging down to an open spot in the park and doing a little circuit warm up of Jumping Jacks (she called them ‘Star Jumps’), stretching the legs, and some plyometrics. Then we jogged a bit further and did another circuit of step ups, push-ups, and tricep push-ups…I knew I would be feeling those tomorrow. Another jog further left us in the grass doing a bigger circuit this time of push-ups, sit-ups, leg raises, planks, jump squats, and a back/core thing…again, I knew I would regret not having doing something sooner. Another jog left us to the beach where we divided into two groups to complete sprint relays…I wish I wasn’t so competitive…I was slightly annoyed with the slowness of my team. Anyway, out last jog put us at another grassy spot, the furthest from the starting point that we would go with another circuit of quality core exercises.

When we finished, she told us to run back at our own pace to the place we started. A tall, lanky kid took off like a Banshee, what looked like a ‘long distance’ runners group followed, a middle group of which I was in, then the others were behind. After the lungs and jumps, my legs were a little slow to start, but in my heart, I knew I couldn’t finish with somewhere in the middle. Slowly, I started working my way through the crowd running at a strong pace with another fit gentleman that looked like to be my age, he and I started gaining on the young lad. With hearing our footsteps, he took off a little harder, but I knew he wouldn’t last. We still had three hundred or meters to go. I picked it up, so did random guy, we caught up to the kid that was fading, then with about a hundred meters left, I turned on the jets and was first to cross the imaginary race finish line. Yay me.

When the rest of the group arrived we did some cool down stretching and I spoke with random guy , Jay, who was impressed with my running…if I was only in shape…He was a local bloke, working in the financial planning arena, who was a regular to the Esplanade workouts. We said goodbye, I realized that I had really worked up a good sweat in all the humidity and that I was quite thirsty…So walking back, I made a quick detour to the ‘Bottleshop’ for some beer and back to the hotel to make some dinner. During dinner, I sat and met some girls Ana Marie from Los Angeles (Chile, not California) and Amanda from Sweden. We conducted the normal ‘traveler’s conversation. They were nice, but I wasn’t feeling so talkative with the lack of sleep and big workout…

Instead, I moseyed to the outdoor theatre for movie night. Tonight they were playing ‘Dodgeball,’ one of my personal favorites…I love Jason Bateman in that movie. I managed to sit next to an Italian fellow, Francesco, whom I helped him catch the true humor of the movie. Afterwards we sat and chatted for a bit…again the textbook traveler’s conversation, plus family, jobs, etc. It was late, I was tired, and Francesco had a busy day ahead of him too…’Waterfall Tour’. It wasn’t even 1030 by the time I had myself tucked in, prayers said, staring at my eyelids.

4/14/11
After a long, needed restful sleep, I had a quick breakfast and headed to the pool. The sun was out again, so my tan work needed a little attention, but more importantly I was down to the last pages of my book. Thankfully, I finished my book by mid-morning which led me plenty of time to collect some more ‘Shannon’ information at the National Park office and going by the used book store. My information was gathered, I had a new book The Help, a book my sister recommended years ago, I stopped for a quick lunch and headed to the ‘Lagoon’, with hefty reading materials in tow. The ‘Lagoon’ is a beautiful outdoor public swimming pool right on the ocean. People in Cairns don’t swim in the regular ocean because of the fear of crocodiles, so I didn’t risk it either. The Lagoon was packed full of hoiday-ers, sunbathing, swimming, and making use of the grills. It was a great place to spend the afternoon people watching, working on my tan and my trip. I ended up spending a few guiltless hours there, and was overall happy with the progress I made on my Shannon week and my new book.

With a pocketful of success, I headed back to the homestead around six for a bite, where I ran into Ana Marie, and it was her last night in Cairns before flying out in the morning. She was dying to go out, so I agreed to going out, ‘just for one’. I also noticed my Italian friend Francesco eating, so he was also extended the beer invitation and pounced all over it. I introduced Ana Marie to Francesco and they hit it off immediately, and it was obvious that it was going to be a fun night. We started at ‘The Courthouse’ that had a fun outdoor patio for drinking and Ana Marie’s chain smoking…A few beers after my ‘just one’, we headed out to the next bar. Ana Marie wanted to go dancing at the teeny-bopper bar Gilligan’s with the seventeen year olds, and that is when I said my goodbye…Francesco wasn’t into it either, so he followed me, then Ana Marie reluctantly followed us. She wanted to go out, just to say ‘she went out’…which I couldn’t understand, but to each their own, I was traveling solo so I wouldn’t have to compromise. The beers were good, friends were made, and another good day chalked up in the books.

4/15/11
The day started with another good breakfast, a short bit of reading my new book. Francesco joined me around 10am…he had a piece of toast with something brown spread on top. I watched him eat, and an instant look of disgust came across his face. He then informed me that he thought the spread was Nutella, which ended up being ‘Vegemite’. It was hilarious. Needless to say, the toast was instantly in the rubbish bin. Our plan was to head to the Lagoon, gather some rays, people watch, read, and play some games…I am always good for some games.

Initially, I worked on planning the east coast of my trip and was excited about what was to come ahead after Shannon left. I wanted to get it all done, so we could just play and I wouldn’t be stressed about it…Francesco, on the other hand, took a nap. The sun was beating down, which prompted a dip in the pool. It was quite refreshing and entertaining watching the kids play their games. Games. That is what Francesco wanted to do too…So we played the game, ‘Guess that Person’s Occupation’, an airport and public place classic, then the ‘Alphabet Game’ naming US and European cities that begin with different letters of the alphabet. Francesco did very well with the US cities. He had spent some significant time in California, Virginia, and Arizona. I wish I could say I did as well as he did, but I didn’t…not terrible either. I think Francesco enjoyed the American English company so he could work on his. I thought he spoke very well, but he disagreed and was humble.

Feeling motivated from Boot Camp two days prior, I decide to go on a run, before Francesco and I met up at 7pm for a dinner out. It was his last night in Carins, with a plane departing at 2am…nice one Tiger Airways. I did make it for the run, down the Esplanade and back…didn’t feel as good as I did at boot camp, but happy I got out.

I made it back to shower and meet up with Francesco. From my guide book, he found a place ‘with good portions at a good price’, ‘Cock and Bull’…plus it made me giggle. When we arrived after the fifteen minute walk, we realized that there were a lot of people reading ¬Lonely Planet too. The place was packed. When we found an open table, we put a map on it to ‘claim’ it when we went to the counter to order…that’s how that place rolled. When we were in the queue, a group of lads snatched it up. Fortunately there was a couple (?) there who offered to share their table with us. Mary and Rodger lived in the way, way north part of Australia-Cape York. Six months out of the year they were trapped because of rain and the wet season preventing any type of travel. They were in Cairns visiting their/her dad. Francesco and I could not figure out if they were married or siblings with their talk of ‘my husband’ or ‘our dad’…we still don’t know. Regardless, it was very interesting talking with them about life in the Cape and all of their travels.
From there we walked our big dinner off in time to get some ‘gelato’…it was get some ‘gelato’. Francesco toyed with the ice cream lady about how it tasted as good as ice cream in Italy…she bought it. By that time it was nearing 10pm and Francesco had to catch his ride to the airport. He thanked me for helping him with his English, I thanked him for…nothing, since I didn’t learn any Italian, but we said goodbye and planned on being real friends…by catching up on Facebook.

4/16/17
I woke up to my last lazy day in Cairns by walking around town and checking out the local Saturday market. In every other town I have been in, the weekend markets have been a place to grab a deal on some local jewelry or artwork…not so much in Cairns. From there I toted to the library and saw the mass of flying fox bats in the trees hanging upside down. It was kind of creepy.

Saturday is Pancake Day at the lodge, so I hit myself up for some of those, but disappointed that they didn’t have any maple syrup…guess that is a States thing. The afternoon was spent hanging out by the pool and down at the Esplanade Lagoon reading my book and reading about the adventure I had planned…pretty chill day, a bit too chill. I am getting more excited by the day for Shannon to arrive.

In the evening, I made some dinner and talked with a girl Symoney who is from Australia whose parents sold their house when she was a kid, bought a bus, traveled around, and lived in desolated places. It was fascinating to hear how she never attended any type of school and didn’t have a real friend until she was eleven. Her time was entirely spent with her siblings and parents…wow. It was such an interesting, yet baffling concept to me, but she was nice and it was a good way to spend the evening.

4/17/11
Busy day…I had lots to do before picking up Shannon. First things first was to check out after staying five nights in one place, it was nice to be settled, but I was excited to get going again. Michael from the rental car place picked me up and gave me my wheels. It was a red Hyundai Getz, awesome. Back in town I went to book all my plans for accommodations, buses, and activities for Magnetic Island, The Whitsundays, Fraser Island, and Noosa. I didn’t want to stress about getting that done when Shannon was here. After all the errands, I still manage to spend an hour or so working on my tan and reading my book.

At two o’clock, I was outside Cairns airport holding a ‘S. Forbes’ sign which made Shannon light up when she saw it, and it made me laugh too. It was really good to see her wearing long leggings and a long sleeve shirt and sandals… Apparently it was snowing in Steamboat when she left. She had delivered a little package from Steamboat for me, which then made me light up as well. We immediately got into the Getz and drove to Port Douglas chatty the entire time about what has gone on the last couple months of our life. It was great having here there.

We arrived around 4pm to Port Douglas and I noticed it is similar to Cairns, but without the super-touristy feel. We walked around town, through the park, and down the entire Four Miles Beach. By the time we got back it was around 730 and we were starving. We split a pizza for her belated birthday dinner, and headed for the Parrot Lodge. No camping for us girls tonight, someone (not me) had a very long day of travel.

4/6/11
Despite getting in late, I had a ’great’ early morning to myself. I made some coffee, chatted with George via IMing…which was awesome, then thought about my day. I had a reservation to rent a car, so picking it up was on my list, exploring a bit of Hobart, and then heading northeast.

Hobart was a lot bigger than I thought and what others had played it out to be. Every street was going one way, and with some pretty steep hills, it made driving interesting…it was a little nerve-racking because the car I got was a manual, which I can drive (but haven’t in awhile), it was the shifting gears with my left hand…it was a little Awe. Kward. I stopped by the wharf and the popular Salmanaca Place for some lunch, sun, and planning time. Unfortunately, FOMO kicked in again…although I was enjoying reading about Tasmania and soaking in the sun, I felt like I should be somewhere else or going somewhere…I was missing out on something.

I packed up and hit the road with no idea where I was going…until I remember Steve telling me about a Wildlife Preserve, so up Highway A3 I went towards Brighton. The highways and streets are marked differently than in NZ, so I had to figure out what to look for, but within 35 minutes I was at Bonorong Wildlife Sanctuary and noticing kangaroos jumping all over the place. I had about twenty minutes or so before they were going to begin the presentation on various animals within the park, so I cruised around watching the joeys and checking out a few large bird cages, one being the albino cockatoo…that seemed a bit angry at me since he was biting the cage the whole time.

Marcy began the presentation in front of the wombat cage and ‘Morris’ was center stage. Apparently a large percentage of Tasmanian wildlife deaths are attributed to vehicular homicide, and unfortunately that was the situation with Morris’ mom when he was just six weeks old. Bonorong had found him, taken him in and now Morris is thriving at a year old and should be released back into the wild within the year. He is about the size of two NFL footballs, tip to tip, weighing about twenty-five pounds…I am guessing. (They told me the kilograms, but quite frankly I can remember or did the conversion at the time.) Marcy told us about the life of a wombat, their habitat, and diet. It was all quite interesting, until I heard this unbelievable terrible noise, as though a rabid, squealing pig (with a cold…because the noise was deeper) was fighting a baby hyena…and the sounds were mixed. It was horrendous to my ears.

That is the point when Marcy walked us to the Tasmanian devil encampment…Aaah, it all made sense. I had heard a story about how the Tasmanian devil got its name…it was said that when it yelled, snarled, and growled the settlers believed that only the ‘devil’ could make a noise like that, and sure enough, I think they were right. I had actually never even seen a picture of a devil, so when I heard them, I was expecting to see this large beast with jagged claws and razor-sharp fangs…besides having fangs, the rest was in my imagination. The little guy making all the racket was about the size of a small house cat, that was all black with a horizontal white band going across his chest with little feet, little claws, and a short tail.

The Tasmanian devil is on the brink of being on the endangered list. They are being victimized by a plague like cancer that grows tumors on their face, and then when they fight each other, it spreads. There are many sanctuaries and preserves throughout Tasmania to increase the devil’s population. Bonorong had about sixteen devils in the park, and a few of them were suspected to be knocked up. Nice.

There were two in the approaching cage, pacing back and forth in front of the fence line while Marcy gave us the information on their life. They continued to snarl and make that obscene noise as she attempted to enter the confinement. It was imperative that she held the sole of her boot up so they could smell her, and so she was protected from being bitten…apparently it is not a pleasant feeling.

The last stop of the presentation was at the koala pen. There were three inside, but Marcy only brought out the old guy. To be honest, I always thought koalas looked cute in pictures, but in real life, they are a bit weird looking. As she placed him on an assembled branch, he seemed to move like a three-toed sloth…slow and deliberate clinging on to only specific branches. Watching Eugene was also like watching a sloth…not much to it. No blinking, moving, chewing…hmm. Despite the anticlimacticness of the bear, I still took the opportunity to pet him and have my picture taken…I am in Australia for goodness sakes.

Standing on a hill, looking to the landscape of Tasmania I was a bit surprised to compare it to Tanzania and the Serengeti, not something of its own. Tall, scattered trees, savannah type grasslands, and small, rolling, brown hills were in sight. After the tour, I conducted my own self-guided one to see some more birds, quolls, wallabies, and kangaroos. I even had a kangaroo eat out of my hand from the small bag of food they gave me upon admittance! Their faces looked like a rabbit’s, combined with a horse…quite odd, but the joeys were sure cute. A couple of hours later I decided to hit the road and figure out where I was going to next and where I was going to stay for the night…it ended up being a small fishing town, Triabunna, a port for Maria Island. I found the only backpacker just before dark, made some dinner, wine, did some reading and planning on my Tasmania week, and spent the rest evening talking to Mary and David, an older couple from a small town, just outside Adelaide who travel around their truck-camper…at this point they had been on the roads of Tasmania for a couple of months…another great way to spend an evening.

4/7/11
After brief sleep in and a luxurious breakfast of oatmeal, I hit the Triabunna visitor’s center and developed a good plan with help of Linda, who was quite hilarious when the indecisive, impatient Asians came in, I might add. Anyway, we discovered my plan was to drive up the coast stopping at beaches, ‘brown signs’, and little towns along the way, and camp just outside Freycinet National Park in Coles Bay that night. It was refreshing not to have FOMO kicking in, being able to take my time, see some beaches and chillax.

The first stop was Bayside Beach…I couldn’t believe the sand, it was white and oh so soft…I was very impressed, but had no idea they would be even better up north. I set up my towel so my feet would be in the sand, and began to read about the Great Barrier Reef area in preparation for Shannon’s arrival, but I got so distracted watching the small turquoise waves rolling in and the Serengeti-like setting…didn’t get too much accomplished, and for once that seemed okay.

In a bit, I thought it was time to mosey, but it wasn’t long until ‘Spiky Bridge’ and ‘Spiky Beach’ were approaching, and of course I had to stop…it was a ‘brown sign’. Spiky Bridge was just that…spiky. It had been made in the early 1900’s by convicts to connect Swansea with Triabunna. After only a couple days in Tasmania I noticed there sure was a lot of history on the correctional facilities in this state, maybe it was like its own Alcatraz of Australia, but they had Port Arthur, a ‘Female Factory’ (women’s prison), and now another one in Launceston. Spiky beach was neat, some cool rocks, but it didn’t have great sand like Bayside.I continued north and stopped in the city center Swansea to pick up some groceries for camping. I finally mail a post card to my class, and a lunch break at the town’s dock looking at the water…(which obviously made me want to pee.)

As I was heading towards Coles Bay, there was a noticeable amount of smoke in the air and the smell was obnoxious. I made a turn down Nine Mile Beach road, but the smoke was appearing to get thicker, so I ditched that idea and went straight to my campsite off of Rocks and River Road. The campsite was along the river, among a smaller infestation of smoke. I set up my tent, took a hike down to the river to only to see a muddy bank filled with little blue crabs…kind of cute, kind of creepy. The sun was beginning to ponder sinking, my stomach was growling, which prompted me to make a lovely pasta dinner…until I noticed the orange sky. At that point, I ditched the pasta and grabbed the camera for some silhouette pictures of trees with the sun glistening on the river…It was a lot cooler than what the pictures turned out to be, despite my best efforts of messing with the shutter speed.
Back to the stove, my pasta, and my wine I went…I met a couple other campers, Paul and Greg, two older fellows that hiked around Freycinet and gave me the details of ‘must do’s’ in the park. Strolling back to my site, almost dark at this point, another cyclist-camper came rolling in…I finished my wine, did some reading, and before I knew it my eyes were closed…until the wallabies and possums knocked over my stove and were looking for nonexistent scraps…got a little nervous, but managed to sleep the night away.

4/8/11
Ooh, I could definitely tell that it was autumn. Besides the trees’ leaves were turning a brilliant shade of yellow, I could see my breath when I popped my head from under my sleeping bag that morning in Coles Bay. Instead of getting up and brewing some coffee, I ducked my head back under for a bit until I realized what a big day I had planned for Freycinet National Park, home the infamous ‘Wineglass Bay’…apparently it was one of Lonely Planet’s Top 10 Beaches. Cleaning up the mess the wallabies and possums made, packed my bag, and hung my tent to dry its condensation in the sun, while I went and had a chat with the late arriving cyclist.

Chris was a young bloke, who I guessed to be in his early twenties, was from the England and was living and working near Melbourne, but decided to cycle Tasmania between jobs and while he had the money. He his panniers loaded on both the front and back tires, along with his sleeping bag on the back tray. I couldn’t even imagine how much that bike weighed. He had hiked ‘Wineglass’ the previous day, and was heading north…I was off to the beach as we said our farewells.

It didn’t take long to obtain my park’s pass and I was at the trailhead parking lot by 1030, but delayed my hike in order to have a proper breakfast…oatmeal, a banana, a bit of yogurt, and a muesli bar…breakfast of champions, while I read the park leaflet on the various trails. Greg and Paul suggested the hike to Mt. Amos, but National Park ranger lady advised against it…said it might be ‘wet’…Wet? Really? “I’m from Colorado, I can do this”, I said to myself as I sauntered passed the ‘Mt. Amos- 3 hours return’ sign.

The hike started (at 1116am) and it was a normal ‘Colorado’ trail…dirt, exposed roots, step ups, rocks, and an incline. After about fifteen minutes, I started noticing more rocks in which I had to maneuver over and slight trickles of water also going down the boulders. At one point, my kicks walked into the water and the next few steps were tricky because the moisture on my shoes found it oil slick on the granite…now I knew what ranger-lady was talking about. From that point I was determined not to let my soles get wet.

I clambered onward and upward in a steeper fashion on straight granite. Following faded yellow arrows as my guide, using my hands more frequently for grip and balance. I stopped a few times to admire the colorful rocks and blueness of Coles Bay, but at 1205 I had reached the summit…way ahead of the suggested pace. Nice work Nimitz.

The view was outstanding, no doubt about it. The water was as blue as I had ever seen in a perfect arching bay, but the significant difference was the whiteness of the beach. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that it was snow. Just beyond there was a small isthmus to Hazard’s beach on the other side. It was truly stunning. I noticed a group of young people on some rocks below me, so I figured I would bother them to take a picture of me of this sight. The group was graduate students from Melbourne, although most of them had done there undergrad in the States…Tennessee and Virginia respectfully. We had a nice chat about our professions and studies, wished each other well, as they began their decent. I had more pictures to take and a snack to eat.

The climb down in is always harder. It was harder on the knees and more difficult to spot the yellow arrows, however, the view was just as impressive. I made it to the original trail head at 146pm…again, well ahead of the projected time. After a refill of time, I thought I should make the most of my time by actually visiting the true beach of what I just saw, so in about forty five minutes time, I had my bare feet sifting through the white goodness. Crossing twenty yards or so of the beach, a little wallaby was hopping around, probably enjoying the sand as much as me. The beach was quite windy, but I found a somewhat secluded spot to enjoy my ham and cheese with some ‘crisps’ (chips) on the side.

The scene was beautiful with the blue and white, but more so from the view of Mt. Amos…I still managed to take some photos…But after a gust blew some sand into my sandwich, and nearing three o’clock I debated my path back…and hour up the way I came, or two and half hours over the isthmus, down Hazards beach and around the bend to the car park…Two and half? Who were they kidding? The isthmus route it was going to be, but a small part of me was concerned with the time, and it getting dark with this winter daylight savings bit…at 319pm I took the chance.

The hike through the isthmus was gorgeous and peaceful, for I never passed another person…several wallabies scurried about, but nature and me…that was it. Within a half an hour I was walking down Hazards, then the trail took a turn around the coast and followed it all the way to the car park. For a second, it reminded me of the hike through Abel Tasman, hugging the coast, basking in the setting sun. It was quite awesome. I made it back to the car park at exactly 5pm…

After six hours of hiking, my legs were happy to be sitting in the car for the thirty minute drive to Bicheno, a little town highly recommended by Emma, friend from Invercargill. Went straight to the lodge, and found I was only one of three that had checked in…I guess Tassie really is slow this time of year. The others were Petr from Prague and Martin from France.

I was excited to shower and eat after camping and a day of exercise, but it was Friday night, thought a beer would be in order as well. Petr and Martin decided to join me in going to the local pub, ‘The Beach House’. We had a few beers, discussing and comparing the two Tasmanian brews Cascade and Boag’s…both were tasty, our travels and professions…just like every person I had met traveling…but by 11pm, while the boys stayed out to booze it up, I was extremely happy to be horizontal in bed, staring at my eyelids.

4/9/11
After a great sleep, I was up by 8am to make some breakfast, grab some coffee and see this little town that Emma had spoke so highly of. I headed straight for what I thought was going to be the beach…water meeting sand, but instead I found water meeting rocks. Very, very big rocks…Boulders, actually, the size of camper vans, plunging into the ocean. I meandered over and around this orange lichen covered masses, checking out every visible tide pool. Never in my life have I seen so many unique looking colorful starfish. Their outside was rough like sandpaper, and their underneath was unknown for they had no intention of letting go of the rock they were on. Boy, these guys were strong!

Moving on south, I headed toward Rice Beach, which actually did turn out to be a beach…A small, but beautiful beach in a wind-protected bay with great sand. It was very peaceful. I met a nice couple there who had been traveling Tassie for six weeks and were planning on staying in Bicheno a few days. I, however, was on my way…continuing my journey down the esplanade, continually seeing the magnificent blue sea.

Leaving Bicheno, my guide book suggested taking Elephant’s Pass to St. Mary’s. It was a road that traveled just on the outskirts of Aspley National Park. A high, windy, narrow road that was hugged by massive trees, as it descended into the small town of a several residential homes and few shops.
Out of town, I had to back track about five kilometer to Ironhorse. Ironhorse had a resort and a brewery…a brewery that offered free tastings and a tour by appointment. I didn’t make an appointment, but I was happy to partake in the beer drinking. They had six beers on tap, I managed to try them all, sans the porter. The brown ale ended up just beating out the wheat beer for the blue ribbon, but unfortunately, I couldn’t take any with me…they only had them on tap. Sigh.

I hit the road and made another stop in Scamander and found a little reserve to do a short walk about…stretch the legs. The hike ended up going through a muddy lagoon reserve…after I was done, I could tell why I was the only car in the lot…I tried taking pictures to make it seem exciting, but besides the distant landscape, I am afraid was unsuccessful.

I continued north, making my way to my stop for the night in St. Helens. A fishing town, claiming to be the biggest city on the east coast of Tasmania. Although its population might have been accurate, it didn’t seem all that big. I quickly checked into the lodge, and surprised that I was the only one there.

In my leaflet, I managed to read a bit about ‘Bay of Fires’ and when I saw the sign, I thought I might take a short peek to see what it’s about. What a lovely surprise I encountered. The first beach in the ‘Bay of Fires’ was Binalong Bay, and oh my, best beach I have seen in my life. Light blue crystal water with snow-like sand…the only way I can describe it is…like walking barefoot on powdered sugar, color and feel accurate. Unfortunately, the sun was quite low and the pictures I took that night were a bit remedial, so I knew I would be back the following day.

Upon departing I met a woman Toni who was vacationing from Sydney…long story short, she had taken her kids for several years to ski school in Steamboat, being taught by the late Chris McNeill. Small world. After a bit of talking, she gave me her phone number and email as I am suppose to call her when I reach Sydney…she was going to take me out sailing. Excellent.

I drove back to the pad and who was cycling in? Yep, it was one of my latest acquaintances Chris from the camp site. He had told me how a couple of his spokes had broke and his wheel was misaligned which made the last couple of days of peddling quite miserable…bummer, I headed in for a change to grab some dinner…I took my book to a little restaurant on the water…literally on the water. The fish and chip place was working out of a boat. It was bustling, and I had a fantastic time eating, people watching, and reading the occasional sentence in between.

Back home, (at the lodge), two German girls had arrived and Chris was making some dinner, but wanted to go out for beer. How could I say no? In the rain, we ran across this street the Bayside Inn. It was karaoke night, sweet. The pub was hopping with terrible singers, a dozen black leathered up biker dudes, a few young blokes and several women dancing the night away. The age range in this place was seventeen to 85…We ordered our Boag’s and began the watching the show. The smokers were coming in and out, old women were in the ‘gaming’ facility wasting their coins in the slot machines, the DJ was singing every other song to keep the music flowing. It was quite a sight…Chris asked me if there are bars like this in America, and I told him reminded me of the Colorado Bar in Oak Creek…carpeted floors, old rustic bar, and a couple slightly callous bartenders…He said that he must come to the states…I chuckled.

We had a couple more beers and discussed life in the states when Steve, a biker guy started talking to us. He was a native Tasmanian and took several biking trips around the state every year. He bought us a beer and tried to give us twenty dollars to have breakfast the following morning because ‘he loved Tasmania and wanted us to love it too’? Didn’t take the money, but thanked him for the beer…not sure that would happen in Oak Creek.
We headed back in the rain, chatted a bit more, then Chris caught up on his Facebook life while went to bed. My intention was to get up early to see ‘The Gardens’ in the Bay of Fire early as Toni suggested to see it in the sun and without the wind…I thought it was a good plan as well.

4/10
The rain had dispersed by morning, but the clouds were still hanging around. I was at ‘The Gardens’ and on the trail by 9am, a new personal best since Abel Tasman. Within a minute, I was undoing the Velcro of my sandals to have my feet in the talcum powder sand. It was another setting similar to Bicheno where there were giant boulders with bright orange lichen all over. It was quite a contrast to the blueness of the water…if only the sun was out the contrast would have been better.

I walk up, on, around, and between the boulders looking at tide pools, crabs, and creatures until I came to another beach. I was the only one out and it was very peaceful. Continuing the walk, I pass three different rock fields before coming to the last my last beach. Since there was a fairly decent rainstorm the night before, there was a lot of seaweed and reeds that had washed up on shore and massive amounts of seagulls…it was slightly entertaining to watch their little footprints on the sand as I started my way back, which I did as soon as the sun peeked its little head out.

The walk back always goes faster, but by the time I had reached the first beach it was nearly 1230, and that is when I met Collin, Mary, and Helen, folks from Tasmania and Sydney. Again, it is very easy for me to talk to ‘older’ folks, and again they offered their traveling advise and a place to stay…As I headed to the car for my picnic lunch, Chris came strolling up with the two German girls. His bike was still in need of repairs and he was looking to take a bus to Launceston to get it fixed.

I was on my way to Launceston, so I offered him a ride and he was psyched. We loaded his bike and I told him my agenda for the day and the stops I was going to make…even having a riding guest would prevent me from completing my plans. He said he was fine with everything that I wanted…
The first stop was the Pyngarman Cheese Factory for some tastings. This was on my list from my last experience at the Emmantal factory in Switzerland…Unfortunately, they didn’t run on the same lines of quality. This cheese tasting lasted about a minute and a half, with only eight cheeses, and little time to decipher the tastes in between. I was highly disappointed…but then again, it wasn’t Switzerland.

The rain had really picked up again, which made the hills look eerie and ‘epic’ (as Chris put it), but it did deter me from hiking the Columbian Falls…we meandered through the landscape of the rest of the drive, arriving in Launceston around 6pm. Launceston was again bigger and more busy than I expected, and it was good to have Chris to read the map to tell me where to go to the hotel. We checked in, I went and made some dinner, Chris organized all his biking stuff and I didn’t see him the rest of the night…A couple hours were dedicated to checking email (hadn’t done it all week), posting sweet photos, and a bit of writing. Lights were out by 11pm…

4/11/11
I was up and at it early because there were a few things I wanted to see and do before I left the following day. The first of that was walking the Cataract Gorge walk. I left the hotel, walked across the bridge and along the river to the gorge. I decided to take the ‘steep’ zig-azg track that was supposed to be less traveled, and it was, especially since there was a light rain falling. It climbed high above the gorge, but the views were limited just to the specific overlooks because of the trees. Upon reaching the First Basin, there was a café, chairlift over the gorge, suspension bridge and a ‘hot springs’…that was neither hot nor occupied by a soul. Instead of crossing the first basin bridge, I continued onward toward the power plant, an additional hour hike. It was lovely and easy following the river and noticing how the rocks were smoothed out into odd from by the water…erosion at its finest.

After about nearly two walking in the drizzle, I came to the old school power plant, crossed the suspension bridge, that wasn’t very suspension-y, and hiked another hour and half through the forests, back to the First Basin and to the King Bridge starting point. From there, I spent the next few hours wandering the town of Launceston, seeing old churches, parks, and a few stores…trying to find something decent that was Tassy to buy…no luck.
I arrived back at the hotel by 530, it was still chilly, raining, and nearly dark. I made some yummy pasta, chatted with Chris about his day and his cycling situation, dropped another dead soldier (bottle of wine), and was in bed by 945…all that walking, nearly seven hours made a girl tired! The following day was going to be busy too…it was a fly day.

4/12
My flight (was suppose to) leave Launceston at 135pm, but before heading to the airport I had to pack up the luggage…again, and hit a couple more Launceston sights. One was their ‘Football’ stadium, home of the Hawks. It was a team in the AFL, Australia Football League…which isn’t quite rugby, but kind of…they play on a circular field and run, tackle, and kick…but just not exactly the same. I hadn’t been in Australia long enough to have learned the rules yet, but was planning on it. The stadium was cool…round, holding about 18,000 seats, two Jumbo-Trons, and some press boxes. Unfortunately, they didn’t have a cool paint job on the grass. From there I walked five minutes to the art museum. I spent an hour looking at the ‘Phenomenon Section’ that explained how a few scientific things worked…lighting, cyclones, and how your equilibrium works on a suspension bridge...it was definitely geared towards kids, but I truly enjoyed it. Then I headed to the Tasmanian history section, which was way cool. There was information on the settlement, the jails, and a huge display of Tasmanian animals (stuffed, not real). It was the first I had seen of the ‘Tasmanian Tiger’ which is now extinct, unfortunately their literature about the animal was very limited too so I didn’t learn as much as I wanted to…Thank goodness we have Google for that.

My last stop was City Park. At the park there was a Conservatory full of gorgeous flowers and plants. Even though it was small, it was neat to see flowers in bloom again. Across from the Conservatory was the ‘Monkey Cage’…that right, monkey cage. It was Launceston’s version of a zoo that housed about twenty Japanese monkeys. It was yet again raining out, so the monkeys were quite content on hanging out in their caves, instead of swinging on the ropes and playing.

The rest of the day was uneventful…airport, flight delayed, six hour layover in Melbourne, 1030 flight to Cairns, arrived at my accommodation around 230am…It was okay, I love airports and the people watching, gave me time to read my book, catch up on some writing, and to actually relax and not having FOMO kick in because I really didn’t have a choice of where to be. I was going to have about five days in Cairns before Shannon arrived, lots of stuff to do…Can’t wait.

4/4/11

• A special ‘Thank You’ goes out to Tiger Airways who delayed my flight three hours to Hobart which allowed me the time to write this.

Day one in Australia…I better kick this portion of the trip off well. So, with only two days allocated for Melbourne, I thought I would make the most of it. I woke up and had a free continental breakfast from the lodge, and set up my itinerary for the day, which was to take the three-hour walking tour from the guide book through the city…in the rain, yup…it followed me from New Zealand…

My Lonely Planet tour began from Federation Square, which was about a fifteen minute walk down the Yarra River from my accommodation. I passed the Crown Casino, Aquarium, and a river bank that is filled with restaurants and shops, that apparently becomes extremely lively at night. Upon reaching Fed Square (as the kids call it), it was quite a scene. There were tons of people and the various types of architecture that could be seen from the corner of Swanston and Flinders was fascinating. To the north, there is St. Paul’s Cathedral (Angelical, not Catholic), that had high brownstone spires and it covered at least a half of a block. Large, steel, unsymmetrical buildings of Fed Square and the AMCI center to my east. These buildings…well, you just have to see them, I cannot begin to describe the randomness of angles, materials used, and formations that went into its creation. To the south, was more Fed Square eccentric buildings with beach chairs, a fake lawn, and stair steps in front of a jumbo-tron playing short movies…I guess I could see why so many people hang out in the area. A large, yellow and red, circus-like building was to my left. This is the Flinders Station, one of the two major train hubs…the other being Southern Cross Station.

My tour set me going west down Flinders Street and taking a quick left on Degraves Street. This was a pedestrian only strip that was a whole in the wall alley, filled with coffee shops, restaurants, and boutiques. It didn’t seem that whole-in the-wall to me because it was packed, which made me wonder why were there so many business people there around 1030 on a Monday??

Degraves Street turned into an even skinnier Centre Place that had an arm alley that was filled with colorful graffiti from local and international artists. Next stop was across Collins Street to the Block Arcade. It had beautiful tiled floors and marble columns situated between more eateries and shops. Royal arcade was just across Lil Collins Street which is home to Gog and Magog statues (check the photos), then down Union Lane for more graffiti work, to Bourke Street Mall…which seemed like a mix between Pearl Street Mall in Boulder and 16th Street in Lodo…Lots of people, street entertainers, and sculptures. The next arcade on the tour was Manchester Arcade, which was short and narrow, but filled with lots of character exemplified by mosaic-tiled floors, beautiful woodwork in the elevators, and cool light fixtures. After a few more, less significant stops the tour nearly ended at Cathedral Arcade and back to Federation Square. The walk took me about three hours, including a little sushi snack on Bourke Street.

I was a bit tuckered, but determined to see more of the city. The walking tour took me to the heart of the city, but the free tram tour went around the city, so I jumped on the little red on that led me clockwise from Fed Square, down Flinders to the Docklands, up towards Ethiad Stadium, down La Trobe Street past Flagstaff Gardens, the State Library, Carlton Gardens, back south down Nicholson Street to see Parliament House and the spires of St. Patrick’s (Catholic) Cathedral, the City Museum and back around to Flinders, running parallel to the Yarra.

It was around 530pm, and with the sun going down it was getting a bit chilly so I headed back to the homestead…lodge, for a costume change. I had signed up to participate in a barbeque at the backpacker, but remembering my friend Emma had told me about the penguins at St. Kilda. And despite my continual unsuccessful efforts in NZ to see penguins, my optimism never seized. I ditched the barbeque and hit the 112 Tram to the contemporary outskirt neighborhood of St. Kilda for my penguin hunt.

On the train, my positive thinking slowly sank…realizing how dark it was already getting. Stupid daylight savings. The penguins were rumored to be coming in from the sea around dusk to camp in the rocks for the night…and at this point, the sun was nearly down and I was still in transit.

Upon arriving, I barely noticed the quaint main street as I nearly sprinted for the pier and water…and as I reached the warning sign for penguins, I noticed an adequate crowd down on the lower dock. They were just standing around, staring at the water, with no intentions of leaving. Sweet. As I sauntered up to join the crowd, I inquired to an innocent bystander if the penguins have come from the sea yet, and she said they were in the rocks, about to go to sea to fish…She told me to listen. All I heard was honking, snoring, and funny noises coming from behind me…those were the penguins!

It didn’t take long for the little guys to come out…they are the Blue Penguins, fairly small in size but very talkative. The setting didn’t allow flash photography for the flash damaged their eyes. As I put forth my best photography efforts from what Joni had told me, I was unsuccessful in acquiring a quality picture, poor lighting in dark places and artificial light made everything seem yellow…However, I did have a great experience watching them wrestle with each other, flap their little wings, and continue with their noises. One even came within two feet on my shoe!

I ended staying in St. Kilda until nearly 8pm¸then hit the 112 north and fell asleep with a Tasmania book on my chest and a penguin smile on my face.

4/5/11
Determined to have another fun-filled, successful day, I rose early, pounded some breakfast with the company of Peter, an older gentleman who had recently accepted a job in Melbourne and was working and working on the relocation details of the transfer…nice guy, we had a good yarn…but he was off to work, and I was off to tackle more of Melbourne.

First stop was to the Visitor’s Information Center to book a room for tonight in Hobart, and then some time was spent on regular information super highway odds and ends. After business was taken care of, I jumped on the tram to the Parliament Building for a tour. The next tour started at 1130, so I manage to make a call home and talk to good ol’ Dad…It is always good talking to him…

Going into the Parliament building is similar to going into any US government building…walking through a scanner and having any belongings x-rayed as well. The building inside was definitely kicking it old school…Victorian type era. The inside had carpeted floor with a floral pattern, lots of wood, marble and gold leafed ceilings. Paul, our tour guide for the next hour, collected us promptly at 1130 and began the tour through the main hall, through the dining area, gardens, green room and red room. Throughout the tour he explained the process of parliament and how the Australian government worked. During the tour I chatted with Harold, a scientist from New Jersey that had done some speaking in Aidelaide and Melbourne. He was a nice guy with a distinct east coast Jersey accent.

At the end of the tour, Paul asked me to fill out a survey about the tour, and as he was saying goodbye to the others and I was conducting the survey, his buddies behind the desk told me to fill out a ‘fake’ response…’This was the worst tour ever, can’t get that hour of my life back, Paul needs a new job…’ so of course, I obliged. And when I handed it to Paul, his face turned red with embarrassment for just a second…when he realized what we put him up to. We all got a good chuckle.

After the tour, I grabbed some takeout sushi and at it on the lawn of the State Library…the library, probably one of the best libraries I have been too. I should have spent more time there yesterday when the weather was remedial. Anyway, spacious, high tech, large rooms dedicated to various subjects…great library. From there, I sauntered down into Chinatown and Greek street, before heading to St. Patrick’s Cathedral…gorgeous church with amazing spires that looked amazing in the cloudless sky. By now it was early afternoon, so I took the tram back towards the lodge to grab my belongings to head towards the airport to fly to Hobart, Tasmania.

Got to the airport when they suggested, but didn’t know they were running two hours behind…which turned into three…Met a nice, Tasmania local, Steve, in the airport and sat next to him on the plane too. Steve was in college and was in Melbourne for an Ultimate Frisbee tournament. The unique thing about Steve was that one of his checked pieces of luggage was a three yard stuffed alligator, Dudley. He told me how Dudley became the teams’ mascot and has been all over Australia, Germany, The States supporting the team…quite hilarious.

We got into Hobart at 11, and I was happy to be sleeping by 1230…Didn’t have much planned for Tasmania, so had no idea what Wednesday was going to bring me.

4/3
I was up early because of the fear…fear of being late for my flight because of the time change. Although the clock was moving back, I hate not knowing the time on a travel day. After I realized I was up by 6am, I have a leisure breakfast and hot chocolate, pack up my backpack and carry-on (quite well, I must say), and drove to drop Sunny off…sadly our time together was over. Bubba, not sure if that was his name, but it should have been, from the car rental place took me to the Queenstown airport. I had a little over an hour before the flight…watched some rugby on the tele (had more interest now that I knew about the rules), caught up on some writing…I love airports…great atmosphere. Flew to Auckland, fairly boring flight because the clouds limited the views, but had a nice chat with Maria, an Auckland resident.

Auckland International was bustling, got my boarding pass for Australia, missed my ‘phone date’, but had a great flight to Melbourne, Emirates is tops! Good food, service, lots of room in the seats, and a fantastic movie selection for the four hours I was going to be there…and lastly the flight was good to think about the NZ portion of the trip…

As I reflect upon my seven weeks in New Zealand, I learned many lessons and truths about others, their cultures, and myself.

Lessons learned:
1.Check trails before hiking.
2.Pre-pay for luggage when buying an airline ticket.
3.Everything happens for a reason…lesson re-learned…and will be learned again in the future, I am sure of it.
4.Timing is everything.

Trip statistics:
Kilometers driven in t in the South Island: 5,100
Miles driven in NZ (just in the South Island: 3,168
Number of new friends made through traveling: 64
Number of buses taken: 5
New activities attempted: 6
Number of scary encounters with possums: 4
Number of items lost: 3
Number of times I caught myself driving on the right side: 5
Number of car accidents: 0
Number of tickets received by NZ police: 2
Favorite NZ saying: ‘Good on ya!’ (Which means, ‘Way to go!’)
Most exciting activity: Tie…catching the Rainbow in Whakatane and Canyoning in Wanaka.
Favorite time with a Kiwi: Drinking beer with Olga after kayaking in the beer garden.
Best Night Out: Sushi and drinking in Wellington
Favorite New Zealand Wine: Queen Adelaide
Best Scenery: Tie… Overlook to Cathedral Cove or Fabian, my Argentinean kayak guide.
Best Beach: Te Puketea in Abel Tasman, The Mount, Ohope, Medlands…
Best Mountain Scene: Lake Matheson or Doubtful Sound
Number of times I peed in the woods: 97
Number of near-peeing in the pants instances because I hear the sound of water: 117
Percentage of Statistics that are fictional: 37
Words written in the NZ blog: 23,987

Thanks for reading friends…more good things to come from Oz!

Cheers!
Melanie

3/31
Thank goodness, I got a brief sleep in…730. And I made a couple cups of coffee, oatmeal, and some yogurt…my French friends warned me they would be sleeping in until at least ten, so I made an effort to be quiet. I quickly packed up camp, set my tent in the sun to dry out, and hit the trail for a hike to the ‘caves’. The trail was in a cool forest, but it was infiltrated by mud. When I reached the ‘caves’ they weren’t really caves per se, just some holes in a big rock. I was okay with the lack of cavey-ness to them, I was happy being outside.

When I got back to my dry tent, another couple had just pulled in for a quick walk to avoid sitting in traffic because of a wreck on the highway…and when I started my drive north, I noticed the wreck remains as well…ouch. Just south of the wreck back up was the Moreki Boulders…and again you wouldn’t think rocks were so neat, but these were just baffling. The boulders were on the ocean beach, but they were nearly perfectly spherical. Their outside were smooth like they have been sanded, but the design of the inside was like a turtle shell. They were lined up in a random, yet organized manner. As I was there, the waves were rolling into them and it made me wonder about the effects of erosion. Some of the rocks had been broken, but their pieces were close together so it was easy to see how the puzzle could have come together.

After the accident was clear and I took a nice beach walk admiring my footstep in the sand, I drove about thirty minutes north to the town of Oamaru. Oamaru was a quaint, little town with an old Victorian era square, just outside the CBD. It is also known for having the rare Yellow-Eyed penguins, but since I arrived in the afternoon I would be missing the penguins again because they are out fishing all day. Meandering through the town and beach I ran across a used bookstore. Inside the store there just happened to be a travel book on the East Coast of Australia, exactly where I was planning on going. After a few minutes of chatting witih Rob, the store owner, I found out that he had lived in Cairns for ten years. Rob spoke with me for quite awhile on the various activities and places Shannon and I could see around the area…since I had just officially found out she was coming for her Spring Break! I was ecstatic and determined to have a good, but flexible plan when she arrived.

Around 230, I said thank you and goodbye to Rob, and I was back on the road to Queenstown. The drive was beautiful following ice blue rivers and lakes, high mountains, and interesting rock formations. The drive took about three or so hours, and I was happy to take a good shower after a couple days of camping. I wandered to the heart of lively Queenstown. It is set in the valley within The Remarkables, Lake Waitapu, and Sklyline Ridge. It is truly picturesque. The town itself has a solid, active town center filled with shops, restaurants, and numerous activity and tour booking sites. It is definitely a tourist town. At first it reminded me of a ‘Durango’ type, lots of partying going on…then I saw the Louis Vitton store, which made me think more Aspen. And I finally had a good burger, Ferburger…yummy. Tomorrow night I was going to meet up with Emma, so after a few beers and some good people watching, I turned in wondering what was in store for me tomorrow.

4/1
After a relaxing breakfast at the lodge overlooking the lake, I decided to take Emma’s advice and hike the Tiki Trail to Skyline Gondola Plaza. The trail was very steep, just like the information pamphlet said, but definitely manageable. It zigzagged through tall pine trees that reminded me of home. When reaching the summit, the gondola cars were being emptied with people and their mountain bikes, people wanting to do the luge, paragliders, and innocent bystanders. I sat at a picnic table for quite awhile admiring the town from above with the distinctive Remarkables and the bright blueness of the lake. The gondola building was filled with people in the café and on the observation deck taking pictures. I continued my hike to the Skyline Loop, where people were taking off on dual-paragliding trips. It was very cool to see the various people participating…there were several people in their sixties and seventies! Again, it was easy for the time to pass. I sat up there for over an hour, eating my lunch and soaking in the sun.

On my way down, I passed several out of shape hikers that asked me, ‘How much further??’ I wonder how many of them made it…One hiker I met was Alex. She was not out of shape, but realized the steepness. We started chatting and I learned she was from San Francisco and had just graduated from University of Colorado. We hit it off, and planned to meet for drinks and dinner that evening.

Making down the trail, I continued my walk through town, by the lake, and in and out of shops. Back at the hostel, I had a quick shower and was off to meet Emma and Alex at Winnie’s. Winnie’s is known for awesome pizza, and boy was it. It was fun talking and sharing stories of travel and home with the girls. Midway through our dinner a private party took over the bar. It was a costume ‘T’ party…everyone dressed up in costumes that began with the letter ‘T’. We saw it all…Tinkerbell, a tornado, Tampax, tourist, Taliban…these Kiwi’s know how to costume. It was very, very entertaining for us.
After a few beers, we hit the street and found Irish bar with a live Irish band playing. They were amazingly good, and the crowd was lively…singing, dancing, and clapping along. I felt as though I was in Ireland, even though I have never actually been there.

Our last bar stop for the night was Buffalo Club. It was fairly mellow when we arrived, playing good tunes from the DJ and adventure clips on the television. We chatted some more, and did a fair amount of people watching, but before we knew it the place was packed with teeny-boppers getting their groove on…again, quality people watching. It was a great first day in Queenstown, and I knew tomorrow would be as well.

4/2
Okay, this day wasn’t going to be as good as yesterday…I woke up feeling terrible. I felt a cold coming on in Invercargill, but I thought I stopped it with my Airborne. Tack that on to a terrible night of sleeping and an upset stomach, I really had to motivate to make it to the craft/farmers market. I dragged myself down there, and was happy I did. I found some fun and unique gifts, finished my shopping, and had the best hot chocolate ever at Patagonia. I spent some quality time by the lake relaxing and took a little nap. On the way back to the lodge, I ran across a local rugby match, aninter-squad Queenstown team was playing a little preseason warm up match. The kids were thirteen and under, but looked smaller. They played with great enthusiasm and hit hard. I can see why all entire Kiwis love this sport. After the kids’ game, the big guys came out. I stood on the sidelines and asked several questions about the rules and happenings…if they weren’t so big and I wasn’t so little…I think I would have liked to play.

After the game, I made a brief stop at the town library, and did some reading on Tasmania…which made me more anxious, so I made some travel plans, printed up my flight itineraries…all seven of them, and got ready to met Emma for drinks and food. We chatted about our days and the fact her back and legs hurt from spending seven hours on a horse the prior day, we found a busy Indian restaurant. She gave me some more information on Tasmania and I helped her with her US trip, but still not feeling good, and being nervous traveling the next day, flight changes, with a Daylight Savings…not really knowing what time it was going to be when I woke up, and still having to pack up my NZ life, I called it an early night. Back at lodge, I got everything organized, had a few glasses of wine to calm my anxiety, and shut the lights out by midnight…

2/27
I woke up to rain and lots of it which pretty much kicked my plans of hiking to the Luxmore Hut of the Kepler Track down the stairs while I waited on news from the kayaking company on my sunglasses. With my lack of plans towards the Australia trip and unknown life situations happening in Colorado, I developed anxiety…and lots of it… just seconds after my eyes opened. I thought I would try and tackle what I had control at the YHA…24 hours of the World Wide Web for a low fee.

The goal was to sort out all the flights for the remainder of my South Pacific tour. This required a bit more anxiety and a lot of decisiveness. Within a couple hours, all the details were in place, my ducks were in a row, and I had flights to Cairns, Australia from Melbourne, Sydney to Nadi, Fiji, Fiji to Los Angeles, and Los Angeles to Denver. In the end, I was fairly content over my choices and prices I paid. Since the rain was still dumping buckets, I used my time to upload pictures, catch up on the happenings of Facebook, and do a bit of Australia reading.

Just before leaving the Y, I had a bit of luck once again. Richard and Betty, my Mike and Jeannie of the UK came strolling in the door. It was a great reunion. The last time I had seen them was in Takaka in the Golden Bay area. (He was the guy in the green shirt that was everywhere I was, remember?) We caught up for about an hour on our past travels and upcoming events, and showing a few pictures in the process. It was great to see them since they were, up to this point, two of my favorite (true) strangers, (not counting the Barrett’s and Millikens’) I had met.

The rain had stopped, the word on my lost sunglasses was negative, and the anxiety was back. So from the handy tool of Facebook chat, I arranged a time to speak to my dear friend in Fruita, Colorado. Debbi and I spoke for about forty five minutes, catching up on her travels and happenings, as I did mine. I am lucky to have a couple girlfriends that I can really talk to openly and honestly…no conversation concessions.

From there, I drove to Invercargill in the rain and wind. Sunny was getting pushed around a bit on the road, and I had an understanding why there were wind powered mills on the rolling hills throughout Highway 94…and 6. Bad news when I finally got to Invercargill, went to the store to grab a bottle of wine...no wine in grocery stores, all ‘bottle stores’ (liquor stores) were closed by the time I arrived. Sigh.

Invercargill was a lot bigger than what I originally thought…oops. Didn’t really have an accommodation set up because I thought I might camp, but the rain deferred me from that idea. Luckily I remembered an address from my last information super-highway search and found ‘Sparky’s Backpackers. I rang the door around 830, and ‘Sparky’ looked at me like I had four heads, but good news there was space for little ol’ me. ‘Sparky’, the owner’ …aka, Craig, is bit of an eccentric, free-spirited character. He showed me the place and amenities and the bar…God love him he had a bar.

After a quick dinner, I met some of the other guests, one being was Emma. She was a 32 year old teacher from Chesterton…which I learned is in the UK. We hit it off nearly instantaneously with our commonalities and sense of humor. We chatted for a bit until it was ‘Cake Time’…Apparently there was a cake show on Sunday nights…which turned out to be every night. Craig made his infamous three-ingredient chocolate cake, with hard hat on and two other secret tricks. (You can check YouTube for the full show…they were there filming…(get that one Danny??)) Emma and I were front row spectators and scared the entire time, but in the end there was nothing to fear, just yummy cake and ice cream. Emma, Craig, and I chatted until about 1230, and it was a great way to end a semi-stressful day.

2/28
Woke up to…you guessed it, rain. I spent the morning driving around Invercargill town ship checking out all the lovely parks that would have been great to see…that is if it wasn’t raining buckets. I arranged to pick Emma up at Sparky’s and we drove to Bluff. Bluff is supposedly the most southern town in New Zealand. The rain stopped, we parked the car at Sterling Point and hiked from there to Lookout Point. It was a nice little walk, despite being very, very windy!! The wind literally blew us off balance on several occasions, and I thought I was pretty sturdy on my feet…who knew?
After the walk, we grabbed a ‘to go’ lunch from Four Square, quick stop at Eagle Hotel. The hotel stop was to say ‘hi’ to Linda and Wobbly from Chris, a guy I worked with at ski school. Chris was vacationing there some years ago and met Linda and Wobbly, then ended up on an oystering boat with an adventure of their own. Anyway, they weren’t there. Bummer.

We wanted to extend our adventure by journey out the south side of the Caitlins to to drive to Slope Point, the true most southern point of New Zealand by seven kilometers. By the multiple maps we were looking at, we were trying to find an unknown highway which ended up being Highway 92. Long story short, we never found the unmarked Highway 92, took Highway 1 instead…made a big circle, with unmentionable scenery, which was pretty much a waste of time and petrol, but Emma and I got a good laugh about it. All the laughing made us thirsty, so we hit the bottle shop before it closed.

Back at the house, we made some dinner and cracked the bottles. During all this, two Irish girls, Hannah and Lauren showed up out of the blue, just like me the night before. They were in their early twenties, full of energy on a whirlwind four week tour of New Zealand. They spent most of their time on their phones, while the others were watching a movie, and Emma, Craig, and I busted out the cards and played a game of Rummy …inevitably the wine continued to flow with ease. Then word got out that ‘Sparky’ makes cakes…this got the Irish girls all fired up…so Monday night was cake night, and the girls loved the show. The cake was even better the second night, maybe the wine had something to do with that. In the end, we stayed up until 130 or so having a good yarn…

2/29
I was early to rise again, sadly. I thought the wine would have done a better job of being the panacea of my traveling anxiousness…thoughts about Australian travel details loomed in my head. But then on Facebook I received great, great news…My good buddy Shannon was seriously seeking refuge from her life by meeting me in Cairns for her Spring Break. I couldn’t have asked for better news from Colorado. I began to research some flight prices for her, then my FOMO disease kicked in and I pressed to get on the road. I said goodbye to Emma, but it turned into more of a ‘see you later’ situation because we had made plans to meet up again in Queenstown in three days.

On the road, I was determined to locate the real Slope Point and the rest of the Caitlins, and unfortunately it was a bit anticlimactic. Yeah, it was cool with the sign and waves spraying up from the ocean fifty yards below, but I had seen lots of my waves in my six weeks. The next stop in the Caitlins was Curio and Porpoise Bay. There were more waves spraying on rocks, but the setting here seemed more powerful. The waves at Porpoise Bay seemed larger, louder, and they pounded the rocks with more authority. Curio Bay, just down the road two minutes were home to a petrified forest, but to be honest the trees didn’t seem all that scared to me…ha, ha, get it?? Anyway, I ran into Thomas, a guy Catherine and I met in Te Anau. Thomas was as Catherine put it, was seriously lacking some social skills. He knew I had a car, and was looking to ditch his travel mates and hitch a ride with me. If I agreed to his request, I probably would have slit my wrists within minutes. Poor Thomas, I am sure he has a good heart.

As I continued, the next stop was chalked up to bad timing. Cathedral Caves were meant to be ventured to at low tide, and of course, I was not there at low tide. A bit further down the road was a forty minute hike to Lake Wilkie. It was a short walk that displayed evidence of the various levels flora within New Zealand. The lake was quite small, and the water was brown like in Oparaha Basin. At least the sun was out today!

Being in the hiking mood, I took another short tramp hiked Tautuku Estuary Boardwalk. It was a cool little trek on a wooden boardwalk over a wetlands area to the estuary. Supposedly there was a rare New Zealand bird that made its home in the area, but my eyes couldn’t find them.
It was getting near six o’clock and I had planned to camp at DOC site that was right on the beach, but the roads to get there were unmarked. How convenient. This resulted in a 12km detour to ask for directions. The older gentleman seemed to get a kick that I was a bit lost, alone, and looking for a random campground. Anyway, he gave me great directions and after a long time found campsite at Purakaunui Bay. All I can say is the effort was worth it. This was the best campsite I had.

I ended up setting up my tent in the grass, on a slightly elevated cliff right on the ocean. It was breathtaking. The sun was setting behind the mountains at my back, as I was drinking my wine, watching the waves, and staring at the steep limestone cliffs to the north. As the sun finally deceased for the day, and night fell upon me, I was lucky enough to witness the most amazing night sky I have seen since the African Serengeti…wow. The sky looked like a spilled jar of salt on a black table cloth. I snuggled into my sleeping bag knowing I would be witnessing an amazing sunrise in about seven hours.

3/30/11
Thank goodness I drank last night because I really had to go…which led me to just see the sunrise above the ocean, just south of the cliffs. I attempted to take some pictures, and I actually think a few of them were successful…wow. It was easy to watch the sun come up, and just like sunset, it didn’t take too long for it to be high in the sky. It was a bit chilly, so I made coffee to warm up my hands and continued to watch the ocean waves and the spray coming from the tops as they broke. After peering for awhile, it was evident that there was a mist coming off the waves like a bride’s veil. I took some more photos, that didn’t do the scene justice, and quickly packed up camp because it was nearly 10am. I drove to Purakaunui Falls…took some cool photos and messed around with the shutter speed…thanks Joni! Some of the pictures actually turned out like I intended. Thanks to the suggestion of Richard and Betty (UK’s Mike and Jeannie), I made a point to drive to Nugget Point…very cool seal colony amongst large rocks coming out of the ocean and another scenic light house. Time got away from me here, it was too easy to be mesmerized by the waves, baby seals playing in a seaside pool, and the tentacle like seaweed flapping within the water against the rocks.

A couple more stops were made on the north side of the Caitlins before I drove to Dunedin. Dunedin was the second largest city in the south island. It was known for having the steepest street in the world and for its penguins. It was around evening rush hour when I arrived and the chaotic atmosphere of the big city led me right out of it after an hour of walking around. Instead I drove around Otago Penisula that was just adjacent to the city. They too, were known for attracting penguins and albatross. Albatross I saw, but the penguins were in their molting phase of the year and I was unable to see any. Sigh…I just really want to see a penguin and get a good picture for my mommy…she loves penguins. Maybe in Omaru.

I hit the road once last time for the day to drive to my next camp site, “Trotter’s Gorge”. There was only a couple there, Bryce and Aurora from France…she was so funny, laughing at everything. I shared my stove with them and we swapped travel stories as another great night sky fell upon us.

3/24/11
Slept until 9am…couldn’t believe it. Haven’t slept in that late the whole trip, and that wasn’t even with wine (an abundance of it anyway). I was a little bummed. My plan was to get up early to head to Milford Sound. At this point I knew I was participating in a kayaking trip in Doubtful, but the ‘Tourist Pressure’ came over me to see the infamous ‘Milford Sound’. As I was packing camp, I met another nice couple from Tasmania, David and Sarah who I spent an hour talking about what I was suppose to see and do while I was in Tasmania and Australia…They took off shortly, then I noticed the clear water of the river floating by and I thought I would try my luck on the smaller Cascade Creek…again the fish are safe and I worked on untying knots.
Around eleven, I really motivated, packed up camp and drove to Milford…so glad I did. What an amazing drive. The river carved through the steep mountains and green valley like a knife through peanut butter. The elevation isn’t as high as Colorado, but again, being near sea level the mountains seemed gigantic. I was lucky enough to catch Milford on a blue bird day, which was a good change and it made the pictures pop. Reaching the summit, I reached the Homer Tunnel. This tunnel is about three quarters of a mile long, but much more rustic than the Eisenhower.

When I reached the sound, I purchased a ticket for a little two-hour cruise. It was stunning, but very, very busy. On the tour, I met Pete and Carol from Brisbane, we chatted and exchanged pictures. It was fun, fun time.

After the Sound tour, I started the drive back to Te Anau, stopping at ‘The Chasam’ on the way. It was an intricate rock formation developed by the river. It was mesmerizing watching the varied colors of dark gray rock, bright blue water of the river, and the emerald green of the algae. I made it to Te Anau by 6pm, met some of my fellow kayakers…and Thomas, ugh, poor Thomas. I repacked my bad and food, turned in by ten because it was going to be an EARLY morning.

3/25
It was a rough night of sleeping. I was up nearly hour in fear of not being awake on time because of not setting my Vodafone correctly or missing my alarm entirely. I was being picked up at 615am, along with six other participants from my lodge. Luckily, I was up way before my alarm to double check my packing, eat a hearty breakfast, and have a brief chat with my sister…which was very good to hear a familiar voice. When everything was set, I went outside and met my companions for the next two days: Amid, Hagar, and Lilac, aka, the Israelis. The rest of the group was Inka from Finland, Raphael from France, and Catherine the Canadian who ended up being my paddling partner.

Matt, out guide, picked us up promptly just before 615 am. From there we drove forty-five minutes in a van to a ferry boat. The boat was a nice cruiser that held about fifty people. Although it was a very early morning, I must admit, it was a secret blessing in disguise to see the sunrise over the sound mountains, creating a lovely scene on the water. Once we landed, we were issued our gear for the trip and put the rest on the van. We received wet suits, splash jackets, life vests, two fleeces, two dry gear bags, and a hat. We loaded the next van that we would be in for forty-five minutes to the Doubtful Sound wharf. Next step was unpacking the gear, getting dressed, and packing the kayaks. The worst part of the sandflies…yes, they were back, and they were back with vengeance. Despite the lather of repellent I applied, they still seemed to find any smidgen of skin, fight through the repellent, and bite me. My arms, legs and neck were covered, but I had no gloves…therefore, my hands became the primary target.

Matt gave some of the rookies the instruction on safety and paddling…After that we hit the water. Catherine preferred that I drove, which required working the foot pedals in the back portion of the boat. And since my last experience with kayaking and erratic driving of the other Israeli in Abel Tasman, I was elated to take control and to have Catherine as my partner. Out of everyone, she and Raphael were probably the only two people I could spend 48 consecutive hours with in a kayak. They were easy-going, down to earth, social-able with a good sense of humor. Inka was a bit odd and the weirdest things came out of her mouth, and the Israelis…well, they fit the typical stereotype of Israelis (from my interactions with them throughout the trip.)
When we started I knew I made a good choice with a partner. Point being, she paddled, and was conscientious of pulling her own weight, along with being very funny. The setting in Doubtful Sound was comparable in beauty to Milford, but the biggest difference was lack of commercialism. There were no touring cruising boats in Doubtful, compared to the dozens in Milford. The whole scene seemed unspoiled. It was a gorgeous day. The sun was out, warmth on our bodies, and a bright blue, nearly cloudless day. And once we started moving on the water, the sandflies seemed to eradicate. We paddled around through the main passage way out to Brown Island where there was rumored to be penguins there…and true, it was a rumor…no penguins.

We paddled about an hour longer before we landed on a beach for our 1230 lunch break. I was super hungry, since the last time I had eaten was five in the morning, so my ham and cheese was extra yummy…but again, it was tough to enjoy because once we became stationary, the sandflies were back.
We continued our paddle down through Hall Arm, noticing numerous waterfalls, trees growing sideways from the cliffs, and mountains diving deep into the water below. It was definitely a situation where we could have taken a photo every five seconds, and it still wouldn’t have captured the true beauty of the area. There were several times during the day where Matt would have us ‘raft up’ and have a chat…your basic ‘get-to-know you’ team building stuff. It was interesting listening to everyone’s stories because…everyone has a story. At one raft up time, Hagar offered her wine for the night to the person who had the best joke…and thanks got George and his pedophile in the forest gag, I would be receiving some extra booze that night.

Around four, Matt led us to another beach area where we unloaded the kayaks, set up tents, and changed out of our gear for the night. It felt amazing to get out of the wet suit. The weather was so warm, it made the material itchy on my skin and after sitting for six hours in a kayak, it was like talking of the ski boots at the end of the day.

Once everything was assembled the rain began to fall, and we gathered in a nearly sand fly proof hut that was already erected to cook dinner, chat, drink, and play cards. It was a fun night. Uno, cheap wine, and a lot of laughs, but no one made it past eleven, for we were knackered from the paddling. We all fell asleep to the rain pelting our tents.

3/26/11
Another early morning started around 6am, when Matt came around knocking on our tents to get up. I asked to push the snooze button, but apparently he didn’t have one. I packed up my gear within the tent, and went to the hut for some oatmeal and coffee. From then, I disassembled my tent, helped the helpless with theirs, and began picking up the rest of the communal camp.

It was around 930 when we found our way back into the kayaks. Although the rain from the night had not seized, I made the choice to avoid wet suit on day two. The Israelis continued to question my decision throughout the day about my choice because they were experts on everything. Catherine made the decision to try her hand at driving, and again, I hesitated but she seemed to prove her worth from yesterdays paddling. It was a bit slow moving for everyone, for day two brought stiffness from lack of kayaking to the shoulders and back. The scene was a bit different too. There was no sun and lots of rain, which one might think is a bad thing, but it wasn’t in the end. It turned into a different setting. The low, floating clouds gently covered the abundance of newly formed waterfalls in the background. It was like being in Narnia…except for the lack of unicorns and centaurs.

We paddled out of Hall Arm, past Brown Island and around another island before lunch. Even though it was raining most of the morning, there was still a surprise around every corner. Clouds move very quickly in the sound, uncovering mountains and hidden treasures of scenery everywhere. We found another beach to break for lunch, and with my temperature being colder to the rest, the sand flies were not attracted to me for the first time. If I would have known that from the beginning, my skin would have been a lot safer. As we moved back towards the wharf after lunch, there was a slight breeze at our backs creating some small, yet fun waves that flowed under our boat. I got to hand it to Catherine, she did an excellent job of driving. She understood the geometry theory of the closest distance between two points is a straight line because in our eleventh hour of paddling, that is what we needed most.
Upon reaching the wharf, we rafted one more time and were instructed about the docking, unpacking, packing, and loading procedures. It had to be quick because we were running a bit late to catch the boat back to Manguipori. It took us about an hour to load the kayaks, change and return the gear, but before we knew it, the chores were done and we were back in the van as Matt raced us to the boat…and we made it with about fifteen minutes to spare. Nice.

On the boat, I realized I left my sunglasses in the kayak, which instantly made me sad. Matt said he would call to have tomorrow’s guide look for them in my dry bag, but I had little hope. Sigh. The hour ride was short, and it was good to spend some time alone staring at the water, mountains, and waves. Packing up the van, we drove back to Te Anau and said our goodbyes to our fearless leader Matt.

The rest of the night was low-key for me. The limited sleep, abundance of activity, and high anxiety of lack of future travel plans encouraged a few glasses of wine, limited socializing, and an early night. Before the trip, I had planned to hike the Kepler Track, but the realization of spending another four nights in the Sound area no longer appealed to me. I was ready to move on…not sure where, but the next day Sunny and I would be reunited.

3/21/11
I was correct. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. When the group and I loaded the van to the valley for a day of canyoning, our guides Millie and Annette attempted to put a little doubt and fear into the trip, but they said it would be awesome in the end. Canyoning is basically working your way through a narrow canyon of flowing water, using mechanisms like rappelling, rock sliding, jumping, zip-lining.

After arriving at a grassy meadow, surrounded by farms and sheep, we got dressed in our thermals (yes, thermals), wet suits, hoodies, booties, helmets, and gloves…it was more work getting dressed for this, than hockey! We hiked about 30 minutes up the meadow hill, and I was wondering what all the fuss was about…until I saw the canyon that I would be working my way through…wow. The walls of the canyon were tall, gray granite with cold water flowing at a strong pace over river rocks, and minimal basin plant life. Millie, our guide, took us through a safety and equipment briefing, and then we went up stream just a bit to a play hole. In the hole, we got used to the buoyancy of our wetsuits, temperature of the water (which was about 50 degrees…smuggling tic-tacs), and did some smaller rock slide and jumps. It was just a small taste of what was ahead. I could tell that the other girl in the group, Oola, from Poland, was going to have a tough day. She was recently in a white-water rafting incident where she was under the raft and thought she was going to drown. It was evident that she was still not comfortable in the water…she had the ‘Deer in Headlights’ look from the get-go.

After about ten minutes of playing, we headed down stream to the first rappel. I went first, strapped myself in and jumped and walked my way down the waterfall cliff to the landing spot. Not bad for first try…Next activity, big, big (BIG) rock slide. When Millie told me what were going to do, I nearly wet myself again. It was a drop of about five meters into a deep pool, and I couldn’t see where I was going to be landing. Despite my fears, I laid down in position, arms crossed into my lap, said a quick prayer, told my family I love them on the video she was making and took the plunge. I wish I would have kept my eyes open, but it was impossible because my stomach had reached my throat, and might have gone higher. It was terrifying, but fun…after it was done, I wish I could have done it again. It was kind of like the speed slide at Water World…but more beautiful and natural setting. Oola went after me, after a lot of coaxing from Millie, and then Millie decided just to jump…Now that is what I really wanted to do.

The following activities were very fun, but less intimidating after the big slide. And it all happened in probably one of the most beautiful settings on my trip…so far. The steep, smooth gray granite walls were lit up magically within an hour or so when the sun decided to peek through the trees’ canopy. A few more rappels, a couple headfirst slides, and some jumps…I liked those the best. Millie took many (blurry) photos and great movies, above water and below, of all the jumps, dives, and slides. Despite being in a full five millimeter wetsuit, I did get quite chilly. The day of fun ended with about a forty (?) foot jump into a pool…I did it twice (way fun!) and a quick zip line over the canyon to the trail.

Once we hiked the ten minutes down and changed out of the wet gear, Millie and Annette had a lovely picnic lunch (with this amazing zucchini chutney) for us in a sunny meadow, gazing at a glacier (can’t remember which one) in the distance. The only thing that would have made it better was if there was a beer in my hand. What a great day.

We drove back to Wananka, collected our pictures and said goodbye. I headed to the backpacker for a change of clothes because I was planning on getting some food to go and eating by Lake Wanaka as the sun set. Mulling over where and what to eat, I passed a Turkish place that had kebabs, and I saw two people reviewing the menu…they sure look like some people I met on the Abel Tasman track.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again…when I have expected to be alone, I never am and sure enough, I met up again with Joni from Israel and Baldur from Germany. We got some food, ate by the lake, talked about our travels from the past two weeks since we have chatted, and took some pictures. Joni taught me how to actually use and control the shutter speed on my camera…and I am forever grateful. They had just arrived in Wananka, and I was leaving the following day, but we made plans to meet up in Te Anau…after I finished the Kepler Track and before they began the Milford.

3/22
I spent most of the morning running errands around Wananka to get ready for the next five days or so in Fiorland National Park because apparently, there wasn’t a sufficient market in Te Anau (whoever told me that was wrong). After shopping for food, warmer clothing, and some souvenirs, I headed down to the river for some fishing (untying knots) on the Clutha. It was a beautiful day, the sun was out and the bright blue river was flowing very rapidly for a novice fisherman. I had my first experience with Didymo, a algae disease that terribly infectious to the rivers in NZ…and I must say it is quite gross. My Wooley sunk down to the bottom, and when I reached my hand down I felt the most slimy thing ever…like a ball of worms in a piles of boogers! It was terrible. Surprisingly, I called it a day on the river, and drove to Lapoura Lakes, where I was going to be camping.

The lakes are between Wanaka and Te Anu, which means I had the luxury to drive by the over Crowne Range and through Remarkables Mountains. The drive was absolutely stunning. The mountains were straight up to my left and a gorgeous lake that sits in front of Queenstown was to my right. I was looking forward to seeing that view again next week when I would be coming back to fly out to Australia…

Anyway, I drove nearly thirty k’s to the lakes on a gravel road to a nearly empty campsite on yet another gorgeous lake. I set up my tent, and thought I would try my luck again before dark to catch some fish…All the fish are safe with me around. As darkness set in, I made fire, and talked with cyclist Megan from Canada. Almost had an encounter with a sneaky possum going for my cooler…but luckily, I scared him off any my breakfast was safe.

3/23
I woke up to a crisp morning and took a quick stroll down by the lake, and to my surprise, I noticed a Rainbow cruising along the edged…I ran and got the rod, but again for the next three hours all the fish were safe and I got more practice untying knots, but did better on my casting...when I wasn’t untying knots. Packed up camp and drove through Te Anau to Cascade Creek and quickly set up camp at the best location in the campground, right by the creek, with a great fire pit around four so I had enough time for a hike.

I drove about fifteen minutes toward Milford Sound and hiked to Lake Marian. It was a steep hike through rocks, mud, and rock-slide areas, but it was all worth it when I got there. The lake was very pristine and secluded like it should have been in a fairy tale. There were a couple of people having a picnic dinner, but I noticed the sun going behind the mountain, so I high-tailed it back to the car and the campsite.

3/18
I woke up early with excitement with the idea of taking my flight and when I looked out the window, I realized my luck with the weather had changed. There were a few clouds, but the rest was nothing but blue skies…a perfect day for a stroll through the air.

When I got to the site I met the other passengers… Bob, Gordy, Joan, and San…from NJ and Vermont…and there were some others, nine of us in total. There were going to be two choppers, one for the 30 minute flight, and another for the ultimate, deluxe 45 minute flight around Mt. Cook flight. Before we could go to the launch pad, we got weighed because apparently they can only fly so many kilos…Long story short, I got placed on the long flight (without having to pay the upgrade) because of a fatty was on mine…Sweet.

We walked across the street to the pads and separated into our two groups, while we waited for the birds to come down from their 8am flights. They seemed so graceful as they landed in front of us…we quickly boarded in the ultra-wind zone of the flyer’s blades and we began to rise. The whole flying thing was much smoother than I expected…very peaceful, besides the loudness of the blades overhead. I could go on forever about seeing the world and the glaciers from above. It was truly amazing…the beauty, the history, the surreal sense of knowing where I was and how blessed I am.
We started out flying up the Franz Joe Glacier, around Mt. Cook (highest peak in NZ) slightly above the Tasman Glacier, down the Fox Glacier, and back through town. Absolutely awesome ride! The views from floating above are indescribable. The deepness of the snow and ice (20-30 meters) was hard to believe. And like so many of my other sites from NZ, the pictures don’t do it justice.

Bob, Gordy, Joan, and San invited me to coffee after the big activity, but I promised the Germans I would take them the 6km to the glacier trailhead. They were a little slow moving after stumbling in around two on their own big night out, but they rallied…managed to get hiking by 11am. I strolled around the cute township, had picnic lunch before guided glacier hike with Gordy and Bob. For the hike, we all got loaded up with gear…boots, crampons, jackets, hats, gloves, and over-trousers (they said we wouldn’t need the over-trousers…we trusted them on that one.) We all loaded the bus, about 40 of us, and drove to the trailhead. There were three guides that split us into smaller groups, I hung back with Gordy and Bob, and a new German girl I met, Maria. When we started the sky was cloudy, a slight breeze, but nothing to get cold on because we were moving. The guys and I commented how lucky we were that the skies were clear for our flight, instead of the current conditions.

We started from the trailhead, hiked about 2.5km to the base of the glacier, learned about how to apply the crampons to our boots, and some other glacier and geology lessons. Climbing up the ice with the crampons was easy and it reminded me of walking with smaller snowshoes. A few were having trouble. The glacier was very cool…figuratively and literally speaking. About midway through the hike, the rain set in again, and more breaks were taken by the guide to pickax part of the trail…that is when I got a bit chilly. The blue ice seemed a bit like a fantasy…Narnia-like, and the caverns and crevasses were intriguing and unusual. But hike got slower, and I got colder which limited picture taking because of my frozen hands. It was a great day of activity all together, getting to see the glaciers from above and superficially. Luckily, out hike ticket came with a ticket to the hot pools. The night finished by hanging with the Germans and a couple glasses of wine.

3/19/11
After such a busy day yesterday, Saturday was going to be spent on the road. I drove through Mt. Aspiring NP to Wanaka…The road reminded me of the Swiss Alps in a way. They were very close to the road, very steep, and had a wow-ing presence. On the way, I stopped by Lake Matheson and did the short hike around…this lake is famous for having ‘mirror’ images…and when you like at my pictures, you can see why. Next stop was right out of the guide book. I hiked to Moeno Beach, there were suppose to be a colony of penguins there, but I didn’t see any. Maybe it was because there were crashing waves at high tide. If I were a penguin, I wouldn’t want to take that beating too. I took several stops for ocean views and waterfalls…and made it to Wanaka by 7pm. I went shopping and ended up camping in Albert Town, just outside Wanaka on the Clutha River.

3/20/11

Woke up fairly early, packed up camp, and had a lovely breakfast by the river. My first stop of the day was to take the book-recommended hike to the summit of Mt. Iron. It was an easy 45 minutes that reminded my go Green Mountain…open, grassy, with good views of both lakes, Wanaka and Hawea. Both lakes were as blue as the ocean I had been seeing all along, but it was still amazing. At the summit, I met Victoria, her husband Pat, and her dad John. Victoria and Pat lived in Bend, Oregon, but were in NZ for two weeks on Spring Break visiting Victoria’s family. I hiked with them all the way down, chatting about NZ, the recent world disasters, and Australia. John was an Aussie, and gave me several tips of what to see on my South Pacific-Part II adventure. They gave me their digits, and said if I needed anything to call…the Kiwi’s are so nice!

After the hike, I went to the I-Site, booked a ‘Canyoning’ trip, and strolled around town. The town is great…small (population about 7,000), set right on a lake, and had that small community feel to it. There were lots of people out and about enjoying the lake and the sunshine. I stumbled upon a local craft market and chatted with a few of the vendors.

After that, I found my backpacker accommodation for the next couple of nights, set up camp, and worked a little bit on my Australian plans…since I had nearly nothing. I could only handle that for about 30 minutes, and one flight purchase, before I had to enjoy the sun myself. I drove to the river and took the rod for a walk…didn’t catch anything but trees, stick-fish and yes, more Sand fly bites. I don’t know why they like me so much.
Back at the backpacker, I made some dinner, drank some wine, and hit the rack…Canyoning was going to be a big day of surprises because I really didn’t know what I was getting myself into.

03/15
Well…the forecast was correct. When I woke up, it was raining like cats and dogs. I was a bit bummed…looking forward to a day at the beach, attempting to surf. When the weather finally cleared around 1pm, the swells was so big at Tauranga Bay they would have treated me like a red-headed step child. Instead, I opted for a random stroll around the bay on the rocks. The sea was angry that day my friends…as I sat on the rocks, protected from the wind, the water was loud and pounded the rocks below. Just around the bend, before leaving Westport, I meandered around the cape to the seal colony. There were a few pups playing in a small puddle a hundred yards away, but the rest of the adults were just lying around, also basking in the sun. I was surprised to see so many tourists watching for such a long time…seals doing nothing but sleeping. I watched for about ten minutes, and then I was off to the Pancake Rocks…

The drive to Paparoa National Park, home of the ‘Pancake Rocks’ was an easy, scenic drive following the coastline. Nothing too windy or steep compared to the other journeys I have taken lately. Besides the amazing waters, waves, and rocks I was passing, I was just as happy to see a very cute warning road sign: ‘Warning: Penguins next 5 km’. Awesome. I hope I see another as I travel south so I can stop and take a picture without the caravan of campers behind me. To no avail, I saw no penguins.

Paparoa National Park was packed with visitors. Cars, campers, vans, motorcycles filled the different roadside parking lots. However, I couldn’t tell in the park that it was as busy as the lot. The main trail through the park was across from the Visitor’s Center. It was a short, paved trail that weaved throughout the different ‘Pancake Rock’ formations. Basically, these formations were formed over millions of years and the different layers of rock were built upon on another, and then with erosion, would crumble, more would build and so on. This ‘Pancake’ look, looked exactly like a tall (very tall) set of pancakes. The erosion is constant. These rocks formations are right on the coast. Therefore, with the waves continually crashing on and underneath them, it breaks down the soft rock below the harder rock, creating these huge blow holes. Apparently, the blowholes are best to see at high tide, but just like the other tide timings of the trip, I missed this one too…saw some pictures though…looked like an enormous geyser. You wouldn’t think rocks would be so interesting (unless you were Mike Lewan), but I was surprised how much time I spent there. It was very easy to notice how the rocks were made and, as always, watch the waves of the ocean.

Back on the road, I made a quick stop in Greymouth for dinner and breakfast provisions because it was going to be another night of camping for me on a Lake Mahinapoua, just south of Hokitika. I made it to the township well before dark, and although all the shops and restaurants were closed, it seemed like a great small town and I decided then that it would be worth the drive back the following day.

Lake Mahinapoua was gorgeous. It was flat as glass when I arrived, and the sun was just thinking about setting creating a beautiful pink and orange glow in the sky that transferred to the water. There were many camper vans, a few tents set up, but the space was still vast and open. I quickly set up my tent, and made a b-line for the lake with my camera to catch the sunset. It was gorgeous, but just as so in many of my other photos, the camera didn’t capture its true essence…there was always a sunrise opportunity…unless there was too much wine.

3/16/11
Woke up later than normal…slept in to almost 745…After a cup of terrible instant coffee, I went fishing on the dock at Lake Mahinapou. Without Dave to tell me where the fish are, I of course didn’t catch a thing. It was a beautiful morning on the lake though. The sumn was out, gently glistening on the water, and very peaceful because there were only a few other campers out and about.

On the way back to camp, I met a great couple, Wally and Fanny from just outside Melbourne that offer me a place to stay in Australia. We talked for awhile about our current and past travels, and then we were off to enjoy a sunny day.

After packing up camp, I went to Hokitika Township, and made some breakfast on the beach. There was a seal that came ashore, Sammy the seal, who decided to take a nap while us onlookers snapped photos like the paparazzi. (Hence my latest Facebook profile picture). I then drove to Lake Kaniere and had a little hike (but the sandflies were out again), Dorthy Falls (a very cool waterfall…see the pictures. Then another 30 minute drive to the Hokitika River and swing bridge (more sandflies, hence more bites than I can count). Too bad there were so many flies, the river was an amazing light turquoise color that left me completely amazed. On my way back from the river, the rain started to fall…and I continued to watch it from the library windows…libraries are sweet in NZ too…Free WiFi…catch up on picture and blog uploads!

I decided to drive south, to be closer to Franz Josef Glacier the next day, where I had a reservation at another backpacker, but that meant roughing it in the wilderness another night. I pulled over to check out one DOC (Department of Conservation) campsite, but all the rain around didn’t look all that appealing, so I decided to chance it and went for the next one. As I was pulling out, I couldn’t help but notice a man with a large log, trying to put it under his tires in the mud…I figured he got his van stuck, and sure enough, I was right. His wife was in the van, taking care of their six month old while Hangi and I decided what to do about the van situation. Once Heleen was done, we put her in the driver’s seat, placed gravel under the tires, and pushed like the dickens until the van was out…45 minutes later. It was good to see them out, but it also meant another night of setting up camp in the dark.

Despite having it rain, the entire drive to the next campsite, it briefly stopped while I set up camp in dark. Again, I listened to the angry possums while I ate dinner, drank wine, and fell asleep listening to the rainfall on my tent.

3/17/11
Woke up to cats and dogs pounding on my tent…yep, that’s right, the rain was back or maybe it never left. I packed up camp as quick as possible…didn’t even bother to really ‘pack’ the tent. I drove to Franz Josef in the rain, not knowing how I was going to spend my day with the downpour going on. I immediately went to the I-center, like most often when I reach a new town and read some information on activities in the town that I had read several times ago.

After a brief stop in a café to grab a warm drink before toughing it out and facing the elements at the Franz Josef Glacier for a short hike. It was unusual, and not like St. Mary’s Glacier in Colorado. It was obviously larger, but with the recent rain the glacial river water was gray. I mean, really gray. I very dismal scene…until you look at the enormous cliffs, waterfalls and interesting rocks, then the sense of amazement comes back.
After the brief view with the glacier, I checked into the accommodation and arranged a helicopter flight and a glacial hike for next day. I was super excited…going on a helicopter was something that I have always wanted to do, ever since I was a kid making model helicopters, it has been a dream. Beth, the receptionist, helped me plan the perfect day to optimize heli¬¬¬ and hiking time.

Back at the room, I met my roommates for the night…Erik from Canada, Felicity and Savine from Germany, and Henry from the UK. We went out for St. Patty’s Day, and I didn’t even know it was St. Patty’s Day, until I checked in…We all had a good time chatting and getting know each other’s travels. I drank 6 beers, didn’t’ even feel a thing…stupid low altitude. But the energy was high, the place was packed, and the dancing shoes were out again with the girls. Despite the big happenings at the bar, I was in bed by midnight…tomorrow was going to be a big day for Melanie.

3/10
Set off early from Nelson because I had over an hour drive to Marahau, a small little community on the south side of Abel Tasman National Park, where I had my kayak adventure set up to roll. Most participants would take kayak up the coast, and then take a water taxi down, or vice versa. I decided to hike the three hours in to meet the group and kayak back…then drive north to Totaranui to begin, part two, the three day backpacking trip.

It was a lovely drive, besides getting a speeding ticket (shocking), through some small vineyards, farms, and steep hills. The actual road into Marahau was another narrow, windy road, and at the end of the road there were probably ten to fifteen buildings and houses on the left side, the Tasman Sea to the right…and that was it.

When I got everything settled, I was instructed to be at ‘Watering Cove’ at 1230 sharp…the kayaks were going to leave at 115. I was on my way at 930, and I thought I was going to have to hustle to make the 1230 meet up…should have remembered how things are often on ‘Kiwi Time’…The hike started by crossing a wooden boardwalk across an estuary to the main dirt trail. This hike is famous for having amazing coastal views, since it hugs the sea most of the way. They were right. The water was amazing blue on my right side, while the track was covered with healthy green plants, trees, and moss all over the place. The walking was pretty mild with a few ups and downs, but nothing that would wear me out with just a daypack on…My big backpack a little later tonight, could be a different story. I cruised through the hike, stopping minimal times for photos (because I was nervous about the 1230, remember), and despite being warned that this infamous track would be packed with hikers, I crossed paths with only a handful.

I arrived at ‘Watering Cove’ at noon, wishing I would have taken more time for photos and to enjoy myself a bit. The beach was packed with a couple different kayak groups and a sailboat tour…there goes my idea of the track not being crowded. I sat on the beach eating my packed lunch, looking at the odd rock formations, the gorgeous water, and the numerous people. The time flew by, and soon enough it was 100 and my kayak group was just rolling in. I met my group, received some basic instructions on equipment, safety, and paddling and we were on our way.

I was situated in a two-person kayak with Noy, a twenty year old girl from Israel. The back person was in charge of steering the rudder with the foot pedals, and I was very excited when Noy said she didn’t want to drive. We set out going south, hugging the rock line and spotting New Zealand’s vast bird inhabitants. The paddling was going fairly smoothly across the still waters, as I was trying to keep in sync with Noy’s rhythm and we were making good progress. We went around one bend and Hannah, our guide, pointed out a couple of caves. I managed to maneuver us in nicely, and entered the dark caves and quickly back out again.

Our next stop was ‘Observation Beach’. It was very nice with silky soft white sand, with only a few hikers that were taking a break for a dip in the chilly water. We had a brief snack, took some photos and were off again…except that Noy now said she wanted to drive. I hesitantly agreed…with good reason. Sitting in front, we were now zig-zaging back in forth with no bit of steadiness. This was driving me a bit crazy…and to top it off, every time I turned ever so slightly back as I was paddling, I noticed Noy not…She was getting a free ride, just enjoying the scenery. It became more of a challenge when we hit a headwind in the homestretch. Overall it was a fun experience, and a lot of exercise, and I was looking forward to doing it again, possibly in the Fjordlands NP.

It was about 5pm when we rolled in, and I still had a two-hour drive to the north trailhead, and an hour hike to set up camp. I was a little stressed, and was stressed I was stressed because after all, I was on vacation dammit.

After another steep, windy drive over Takaka Hill, and down 45 minutes of a gravel road I arrived at Tortanui, packed my back, and set out at 745…Yikes. The sun was starting to set a bit and I was on the move, only stopping once to take a photo of the beach. The hike to the campsite was suppose to be an hour…long story short, after missing the campsite detour, backtracking, and re-backtracking, I was setting up my tent at 945 at an unoccupied campsite with only the feral cats and angry possums to keep me company. Ugh…what did I get myself into??

Lessons learned: 1. Always check with the DOC before departure on any trail detours.

3/11
Since this was considered a ‘Coastal Walk’, it meant that I had to set my alarm for 6am to make my way across the two estuaries at low tide between 744 and 1044…awesome. Arriving right at low tide at the Aweroa Crossing 45 minutes from my camp, it sure looked a lot different in the daylight. The sea was out, leaving a clam and sea shelled muddy basin to walk about a half mile across to the other side. The crossing had about a half dozen trampers already walking in both directions as I slipped into my sandals. There were a few crossings through shallow flowing streams which gave me goose bumps because of the chill of the water. Making it to the other side, I now had two hours to make the Onetuani Crossing…no problems.

On my way, I met Jamie, a social worker from Fairbanks, Alaska. We hiked together the two hours talking about our jobs, politics, travels, and knee injuries. As we reached the beach after the second estuary crossing, I decided to make some breakfast and said goodbye to Jamie who was going on to Bark’s Bay to be picked up by her water taxi…

I fired up my stove from the first time and made some oatmeal…yummy. After three hours of walking briskly with my heavy pack, I slipped into my ‘togs’ (swimsuit) for a little R and R. On the beach, I thought how the guys in my life…my brothers, Billy, etc, would have loved to be here right now…In other words, there were a couple of European women sunbathing topless on the beach. The other male hikers were happy they were there too.

After a couple of hours of relaxing, it was back to the trail. My next stop was ‘Medlands Beach’, approximately two hours away. This stretch of trail was a bit tougher…the ups were steeper and so were the downs, it was starting to make an impact on my shoulders and I was hoping there was a masseuse at the next beach. No such luck. However, the small beach was fairly unoccupied, with soft sand for my weary feet. I managed to tackle another break for a couple of hours enjoying the sun and sand, while chatting with another Israeli and German who were camping there for the night.

I was invited to stay, but that would mean another stressful morning to make my water taxi departure…I was off to my campsite, Te Puktea, three hour to four hours away, depending on the second low tide of the Torrent Bay estuary crossing. My timing was fairly good. I took a short break on top of a hill overlooking the bay, talking to Sophie, a kayak guide in training as I waited 30 minutes or so to make the shortcut tide crossing. It was a good choice waiting it out. It saved an hour of hiking, and beginning my day so early, I was happy to be at a campsite before dark.

Arriving at 6pm at my home for the night, it was a site only built for seven tents and fourteen maximum occupants. I set up across from Owen and Katherine a couple that was kayak camping through the park. They were nice enough to share their table with me. Before dinner we sat on the beach with another single camper, Claire, chatting and getting to know about each other’s travels as Stingrays floating by. It was so cool to see them up close, wings flapping gently as they moved within a few feet of the shore.

Dinner was fun with the group, but we were all spent and said goodnight around 9pm. After a rough start to the backpacking experience, I was really happy with my decisions of the day. Because up to this point of my trip, my ‘F.O.M.O. Disease’ (Fear Of Missing Out) has been really acting up. I wasn’t enjoying where I was, I always felt I had to be constantly on the move not to miss any part of NZ. But today, I finally felt calm, taking my time to stop at some beaches throughout the park, relax, and enjoy the present space and people. Hopefully this realization will continue.

3/12
It was an overcast morning in camp as I rose after sleeping like a champ. Claire was off to her taxi, so it just left Kat, Owen and me to enjoy the peaceful morning…but the morning flew by and I was off to meet my own taxi at 1115.

The water taxi was relaxing. We were in a smaller, fast boat, scurrying from bay to bay, dropping off passengers, picking up new ones, and after a couple of stops, I was the only one on the boat. The driver took the initiative to take his only passenger on a few tangent stops to the Fur Seal Colony on Tonga Island and a school of stingrays at Onetanui Bay (the spot of the second tidal crossing the previous day…again it looked a lot different at high tide). An hour after boarding the taxi, I was back at my car, somberly leaving Abel Tasman after an amazing trek.

After a brief lunch in Takaka, I was off to Whakeri Beach, north of Abel Tasman, just west of ‘Farewell Spit’. It was one of the biggest beaches I have seen on my trip. There is just a vast area of sand dunes that lead to the actual beach. When I finally arrived, I was surprised to see the huge rocks islands so close to shore with big holes in them…it reminded me ‘Hole in the Rock’ in the North Island. There were also a couple caves, but I didn’t explore them too deeply… (Remember, I don’t like being scared.) I was there to soak up the sun and rest my tired body from the trek…unfortunately, there wasn’t a masseuse stationed here either. After some sun and more trip planning, I set back through the dunes, short stop at Farewell Cape (The most Northern part of the South Island) to drive to Takaka, hoping to find a backpacker…this kid wanted a real bed. En route I made a brief stop at Pu Pu Springs. Apparently, this is the clearest freshwater spring in the world…beside the ice shelf in Antarctica! The area was protected from any swimming or human contact, truly pristine and I was amazed how clear the water was, but very sad to see that someone threw a t-shirt in the bottom…what a jackass.

After the Springs found a small backpacker, and began making some dinner with an older couple, Betty and Richard, I had seen several times throughout the day… (I continually recognized Richard’s green striped shirt…)Anyway, once I made it clear to them how often I saw them that day…at the beach, at Farewell Cape, at Pu Pu…we had a great night sharing stories of travel and adventures. Richard was a sarcastic riot, and Betty was so funny how she dealt with it all. I really, really enjoyed their company and our conversation.

3/13
Early to rise…it was going to be a big day of driving ahead of me. The plan was to drive from Takaka to Karamea, and there are no direct roads…if there were, it would go straight through Kahurangi NP. It was about a six hour scenic drive, following the Buller River through small vineyards, amazing canyons, countless one¬¬-lane bridges, and ending with yet again, a long windy, narrow, steep road into Karamea and the southern coastal tip of the national park and the trailhead of the Heaphy Track. Although it was a nice drive, I was happy to set up my tent before dark (Ever since the first night of Abel Tasman, I am happy to be at camp before dark.), and take a few hours to hike the Heaphy Track to Scotts Beach.

The track seemed just as pleasant as Abel, but then again, I just had my daypack on…mild terrain along the coast, through thick, healthy vegetation. Once arriving at the beach, I noticed very large rock formations. I put down my pack and worked on my bouldering skills…got a little nervous about actually climbing them, being the only one at the beach, but it was fun and entertaining until high tide began to roll in…

A sat down only for a second to watch the waves when all the rumors I had heard about the West Coast had popped their heads up…the wicked Sandflies! They are absolutely dreadful…they are small, but mighty. They have an uncanny ability of finding just a smidgen of uncovered skin and biting you. They leave a small red bump that stings and itches all at the same time. I truly hate them, with all the hate I have in my body and soul.

Walking back was pleasant without the flies with me, and I managed to wet a line, unsuccessfully of course, in the Kohaihai River. It was fun for about 30 minutes, until the wretched Sandflies came back for more blood with vengeance. Did I mention I hate them?

Walked the 20 minutes back to camp, started a fire, made some dinner…watched the stars and managed to kill a half of a bottle of wine…I am in wine country…Slow, peaceful day, sans the flies…feel asleep quickly with help of the crashing waves…and the wine.

3/14/11
Did I mention how much I hate Sandflies?? They were pelting my tent like raindrops, ready to attack on the instant I set out of my tent…I got to say, I hesitated at the thought of being bit again, and again, and again…But there was another day to be had out there, so I fought the elements of the flies and packed up in the rain, as quickly as humanly possible, and set out to the Oparara Basin.

Didn’t know much about the Basin, but was pleasantly surprised to be spending my rainy Monday morning in such a beautiful place. The trail was similar to all the other treks I have made, but the enormous limestone arches and caves were something new to be seen. It only took twenty minutes to walk to the first one, Oparara Arch. It was massive, with green shrubbery growing all over, and a brown water river flowing underneath. The water really surprised me as well. All of the water I have seen since being in NZ is a glorious blue, but this was crap brown. Apparently there are leeches and certain leaves that turn the river such an unattractive color.

The next hike was Moria Gate Arch, a hike that passed a small lake. This one was less impressive…until I saw the trail that led through a cave to an area underneath the arch. It was little scary, but very cool. There were stalactites and stalagmites growing all around, and again the brown river was flowing through.

The last stop was very brief. It was to Box Cave and Crazy Path cave. When I say ‘cave’, I mean a really big cave! I tromped down a couple set of stairs to a dark, cold limestone cave. I had my headlamp on, but didn’t travel too far into because I remembered the information sign outside…big scary spiders, and when I saw them, I was outt’a there.

Before heading back to Westport to stay for the night and continue my journey south, the sun came out and I decided to spend a couple hours on the beach, soaking in the rays. I am hoping to try my luck at some surfing again in Tauranga Bay, but there is more rain in the forecast…sometimes I feel like it is following me.