Due to the cancellation of yet another greyhound bus, we found ourselves in Cairns for Australia Day. My first actually IN Australia. Exciting times. And yes, I do celebrate it in London even though I can boast no Aussie heritage. Its not strange, its just a great night out!
So, rather than a boozefest at walkabout, we walked into Cairns early to visit the art gallery. Fab times and amazing aircon. Shallow? Me? Then headed to the market, where zinc fm were happily branding everyone with Aussie flag tats and dispensing free bbq. There was also free amusement in the form of various 'patriotic' outfit choices. The 60 yr old in the glitter flag halter top springs to mind...
Melting in the intense heat, we hung out by the lagoon until 4 oclock, the legal time that you can buy goon in Queensland. Silly rule. Goon, to you Brits is a box of wine. At $12 for 4 litres its the obvious choice for a night out. Or a night in. Or a midmorning drink. You get my drift. Unfortunately, we had to join the queue of other scabby backpackers being made to wait till 4 on the dot, which was a bit embarassing, especially with people wandering by shouting 'goon queue' at you. It was also conveniently situated right next to where all the homeless people hang out...
Armed with our goon (fruity lexia!) and another pocketful of Aussie flag transfers, we returned to the hostel to prepare for the night ahead. It was very strange to wear makeup for first time since leaving Sydney. Don't judge us - there's no point in these kind of sweaty conditions!
With no particular plans we headed to the hostel bar and were promptly adopted by a huge group of Naval Aussies. My friends know that I have a strange talent for finding military personnel wherever I go. They tend to be insane. This lot were no exception. After rounds of drinking games we lurched off to Gilligans - the massive hostel/bar/club, for a night of dancing like an idiot and shamelessly talking people into buying all our drinks. As the entry fee alone had wiped out our whole budget...
Many hours later, after losing Flo and traipsing all over Cairns in search of her, we collapsed into bed to be woken 2 hours later. Blindly packing (yeah, we lost a lot), we barely made our greyhound bus.
Which was terrible. Appalling. The memory makes me shudder. As the temp hit 37 degrees outside, or so the driver continually boasted, we had one question. Where was the bloody aircon we had been promised???
The bus breaking down in Townsville, and the drivers ringtone (the scream from psycho - Why? Why?) did not make for a restful journey, but we limped into Airlie Beach 11hrs later, just glad to finally be out of Cairns!
So, rather than a boozefest at walkabout, we walked into Cairns early to visit the art gallery. Fab times and amazing aircon. Shallow? Me? Then headed to the market, where zinc fm were happily branding everyone with Aussie flag tats and dispensing free bbq. There was also free amusement in the form of various 'patriotic' outfit choices. The 60 yr old in the glitter flag halter top springs to mind...
Melting in the intense heat, we hung out by the lagoon until 4 oclock, the legal time that you can buy goon in Queensland. Silly rule. Goon, to you Brits is a box of wine. At $12 for 4 litres its the obvious choice for a night out. Or a night in. Or a midmorning drink. You get my drift. Unfortunately, we had to join the queue of other scabby backpackers being made to wait till 4 on the dot, which was a bit embarassing, especially with people wandering by shouting 'goon queue' at you. It was also conveniently situated right next to where all the homeless people hang out...
Armed with our goon (fruity lexia!) and another pocketful of Aussie flag transfers, we returned to the hostel to prepare for the night ahead. It was very strange to wear makeup for first time since leaving Sydney. Don't judge us - there's no point in these kind of sweaty conditions!
With no particular plans we headed to the hostel bar and were promptly adopted by a huge group of Naval Aussies. My friends know that I have a strange talent for finding military personnel wherever I go. They tend to be insane. This lot were no exception. After rounds of drinking games we lurched off to Gilligans - the massive hostel/bar/club, for a night of dancing like an idiot and shamelessly talking people into buying all our drinks. As the entry fee alone had wiped out our whole budget...
Many hours later, after losing Flo and traipsing all over Cairns in search of her, we collapsed into bed to be woken 2 hours later. Blindly packing (yeah, we lost a lot), we barely made our greyhound bus.
Which was terrible. Appalling. The memory makes me shudder. As the temp hit 37 degrees outside, or so the driver continually boasted, we had one question. Where was the bloody aircon we had been promised???
The bus breaking down in Townsville, and the drivers ringtone (the scream from psycho - Why? Why?) did not make for a restful journey, but we limped into Airlie Beach 11hrs later, just glad to finally be out of Cairns!
As the sun started to drop en route to Airlie Beach
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