Fraser Island Adventure Tour

July 6, 2012:
Our Adventure Tours Fraser Island tour guide, Robert, picked up us in a badass 4-wheel drive tour bus. He had the quintessential Aussie accent (to our delight!) like you always see in the films... I guess it's the East Coast that has that accent? Or New South Wales? Or were we in Queensland now? Ah well, the point is we were all ears, possibly fantasizing about taking the tour alone with him... or was that just me? Awkward. We took a ferry on the bus over to the island and started driving along the coast of the island.

The tour bus was designed to drive over sand dunes and through creeks which turned out to be quite useful. Fraser Island is the biggest island in the world made entirely of sand. It has seven separate ecosystems including mangroves (which are just about the coolest thing in my opinion... they are trees that migrate, for god's sake!), subtropical rainforest, woodlands, heaths, sand dunes, etc. Because of the physical geography of the island, there are water tables of fresh water underground that filter back through the sand creating loads of fresh water creeks and lakes that are pure and crystal clear.

Eventually, we made it to Lake McKenzie. In the tour description they had recommended bringing a bathing suit to take a quick dip in the lake. As Canadians, we were undaunted by the fact that in Australia, July is considered mid-winter and wore our bathing suits anyway.

 

It was bloody freezing, but Caitlin and I were the first of all the tour groups to go swimming, stripping down out of our coats and scarves. Britt and Jay eventually followed and essentially we set the trend with several other people coming swimming as well. It reminded us all of the lakes in northern Ontario. No big deal! The silica sand and the really low PH balance of the lake left our skin and hair silky smooth and our jewelry all polished. Some of the other tourists took photos of us swimming (which was a bit weird), but maybe they were as stunned as Robert who asked us how it was. When we answered that it was "refreshing" he asked incredulously if that was Canadian for "****ing freezing". We all grinned and nodded.

Completely changing gears, we spent the time before lunch hiking through the rainforest next to a creek. I am at a loss for words to describe the purity of this place. Despite the obvious marks of tourism, this place seemed so untouched and wild. There were hollow piccabeen palm trees and ferns and jungle vines hanging everywhere. For lunch Jay and Britt ordered prawns but they were shocked to learn that they would be fresh prawns. Both girls were so grossed out because they had to pull the prawns apart themselves... previously they had only had them cooked in pasta. They ended up convincing Robert to take pity on them and he gave them sausages instead; they could not handle the beady little eyes.

 

I had a chance to see my beloved mangrove trees later in the day at Eli Creek. You could see where the roots had torn off from the trees in order to migrate. Our luck, in terms of the weather, finally ran out and we were forced to observe a shipwreck between fat drops of rain. Some people were brave enough to try to take photos. The shipwreck was a Japanese ship or something to that effect and it was haunting.

On the way back to the ferry, we drove along 65 Mile Beach and stopped to see the coloured sands. Luckily the rain let up just long enough for us to get out of the bus and explore for a few minutes. We had had the pleasure of glimpsing several double rainbows before we got there. The minerals in the sand oxidize (rust, basically) to create different colours in the sand. They looked like waterfalls of colour and some of the colour dripped down like paint. I hadn't ever seen anything like it before.

 

The whole island was an amazing experience. When we got back to the hostel in Noosa, we made Kanga burgers with garlic mashed potatoes and broccoli for dinner, got some laundry done, and attempted to watch a DVD with no success. Hoping to sleep in the next for a change, we managed to hold out until 10:30pm before we went to sleep.

The Australia Zoo

July 5, 2012:
BEFORE the crack of dawn (I don't often get to say this, so I'm savouring the moment here), we woke up in the freezing cold, threw some clothes under our pajamas to help us keep warm and drove to Cape Byron for the sunrise. We climbed all the way to the top of the hill, past the lighthouse, and then back down to the point where the ocean was breaking against the waves at the most eastern point in Australia. We were hoping to catch the first glimpses of sunlight that would light the sky anywhere in Oz. Unfortunately, there were loads of clouds.

Instead, there were snatches of sunlight that peeked through the clouds every now and then, and we got to breathe in the salty air of the Pacific Ocean in the dull grey light. So romantic.

Of course, as we walked away, the clouds finally cleared out of the way and made way for a beautiful sunrise. Thankfully, we got to see the sun breaking over the hill as we made our way back to Ray-Jay.

Photo credit to the girls for these ones.

 

The early morning excursion meant I couldn't keep my eyes open for the two hour jaunt to Beerwah, home of Steven Irwin and the Australia Zoo.

 

If you happened to chance across one of my friends and asked them how I feel about animals, I think it's safe to assume that they would unanimously tell you I don't like them. I only had goldfish growing up -- relying on my memory, I'd say I had seven consecutive fish, all named Tina after one of the characters in Barney that I thought looked like me...

...I am not wrong -- and I think this has caused me to be uncomfortable around dogs and cats in other people's houses. I firmly believe that animals belong outside and I don't particularly like to touch them, despite recently discovered evidence to the contrary:

(Don't ask about my outfit. I have no idea. Maybe this photo was taken in an alternate universe.) This aversion to animals is in stark contrast to Brittney, who had wanted to become a vet, and has since decided to go into animal conservation. She adores animals, and I knew that a big part of the attraction to Australia is the wildlife which is so different from anything we have in North America... even for me. All this to say, I thoroughly enjoyed myself at the zoo.

We saw Tassie Devils, dingos, a few crocs (thankfully, not the shoes... that would have been more terrifying), camels and a few koalas before lunch. Then we took our seats for the main attraction: the show. Since Steve Irwin's death, his family has stepped up to fill his shoes. His wife, Terri, was an excellent and engaging speaker. His daughter, Bindi, who just turned 13 is a marketer's dream. She is the Australian version of a Disney girl. She has films (à la MK and Ashley Olsen), books, dolls and a television show as well as something called "Bindi's Bootcamp" which sounds alarming. Robert, who is 8, is beginning to write his own books as well. They were born into animal activism and they are clearly passionate about it. They definitely got me thinking about the impacts of humans on natural habitats and the endangerment of different animals.

 

Before our eyes, Bindi fed an enormous croc named Charlie. I teared up a few times because of the tributes to Steve Irwin, who passed away as the result of a freak accident with a Sting Ray (which are normally not dangerous). The thought of his family continuing his life's work without him really got to me.

After the show, we marvelled at zebras, giraffes, rhinos, tigers, elephants and a mother koala and its baby which made my heart melt it was so adorable. We saw some wicked snakes, some wombats, and I actually patted a red kangaroo which can jump up to 3 metres into the air and can go 60 km/h.

The fur was super soft to touch and I felt all brave and stuff for touching it.... even though I'd gone skydiving only days before.

At the end of our awesome animal adventure we piled back into Ray-Jay and hit the road for Noosa Head. It was our first experience cooking in a hostel kitchen; luckily, we just beat the rush of other backpackers and enjoyed our delicious pasta in the common area before tucking into some Tim Tam's before bed. We were in for another early morning adventure the next day on Fraser Island.



Bushwalking with Cockatoo Paul

July 3, 2012 cnt'd:
My adventures with driving did not elate me as much as my skydiving adventure and despite all my new fearlessness, it made me anxious. I had special difficulty remembering that in addition to driving on the wrong side of the road, all of the indicators and buttons and whatever would be on the opposite side of the steering wheel as well. I had an annoying habit of putting on the windshield wipers everytime I tried to indicate a turn (which is more often than most people would do anyway). This tendency drove my co-pilot, Jay, crazy. She took to smacking me every time I got it wrong, which was extremely effective and left me only with the challenge of navigating my way through roundabout after roundabout and remembering that my rearview mirror was over my left shoulder. (Only!)

Finally, we reached the Arts Factory hostel where we would spend our first night camping out in our van, where we would learn just how special our Jucy really was. We named her Ray-Jay, short for Reject Jucy, based on her many deficiencies. In addition to the replaced battery, we learned it took multiple tries to lock all the doors, the music sometimes played on one side of the van, the A/C didn't reach the back of the vehicle, one of the lights inside the vehicle was out, the propane tank for the barbecue in the back ran out, the sliding door sometimes refused to shut and the DVD player turned black when the music or noise was too loud. We learned this last one while trying to review our DVDs from the jump so that we could laugh about how everyone reacted. Brittney and I each seemed to have a bit of a romantic encounter with our European instructor, which seemed less special when we realized it had happened to both of us.

 

As we walked to the entrance of the hostel, we were accosted by a man with a white and yellow cockatoo perched on his shoulder and a spear in his hand. I am not joking. It was an actual spear. He was the type of guy you would pointedly avert your eyes from on a bus or in an elevator for fear of sparking a conversation, but the girls were drawn in by his beautiful bird who revelled in the attention. Cockatoo Paul, as he called himself, had a buzz cut, except for a small braided rat tail at the back of his head with a single feather from his bird affixed to the end. He was the definition of "bogan" and he insisted that we join him on a "bushwalk". We excused ourselves because we had to sign in to the hostel, but he had the receptionistdo a speed check-in before he escorted us to the starting point.

The group he had assembled reflected the culture of Byron Bay. We had the impression that the hostel was a hippy commune. More than one of the other bushwalkers was openly getting high. Shops in Byron Bay sold marijuana and other herbs. (I still don't know if this was legal). Dreadlocks were everywhere. We felt a little out of place. Cockatoo Paul taught us about Aboriginal traditional plant uses. We found plants that stored water, painted our hands with natural mineral sunblock, ate edible flowers, found a plant that stops hemorraghing, one that stops nipples from chapping (his words, not mine) which also serves as a excellent source of iron, and learned to throw his spear. He taught us which plants were best for building shelter and he made a basket for us out of a palm frond.

The most memorable lesson I learned on this adventure was how to find the best tree bark to use for toilet paper. Unsolicited, he shared with us that as a poor kid growing up, his family couldn't afford toilet paper and that he would often use newspaper. We found a tree with the proper bark -- which could also be used for starting fires, constructing mattresses -- and he showed us the technique for making the bark soft enough to use for toilet paper.... mainly repeated scrunching and unscrunching of the bark until the fibres were weakened. This one demonstration has saved me in many situations involving public toilets throughout my travels. Notably, I discussed my experience at the hockey arena in Lyon. I was recently saved at the Gentlemen of the Road tour in Simcoe, ON by using the scrunching technique on the toilet paper roll. Essentially, Cockatoo Paul reminded me that travelling is about being resourceful.

At the end of our bushwalk, he asked for donations for the Kangaroo Creek Survival Camp which trains young Aboriginal children in their own traditions, essentially to provide them with opportunities to work in tourism, but also to promote the longevity of those traditions. We finished off the night with a quick trip for some groceries (highlighted by someone offering to open my beer for me after, presumably, watching me struggle to open it on a tree and on a rock... not so resourceful after all), tailgating for dinner and coming to the conclusion that after a few days living out of a van sporting wild hair and  some bulky hiking books that I might as well embrace my inner bogan, too.