Cairns chatter

Arrived at the hostel and met up with Flo again, fresh from Darwin and Kakadu (guys on reception roundly taking the piss at my yelling 'FLO!!!' the second we saw her!). The hostel is great - lovely pool and outside area, good bar with cheap food etc. The room is basic but clean which is all that matters. And it was just the 3 of us in a 6 bed dorm. Score! It took us a little while to work out the aircon situation, after which the room went from hot, sweaty and smelling of feet, to a haven of blissful breeziness. Drifted off happily. Woke up feeling like I had accidentally gone to sleep in a fridge...

The others were off the next morning to their PADI Open water course, while I had a day free to wander the city. Opted to walk in to town, despite the protestations of the guys here that it took an hour. Hmm, half an hour later I was there, but hey, maybe they walk reeeeally slowly. Lovely stroll along the esplanade - beach on one side and grass and trees on the other. Lots of water fountains (the heat and humidity are pretty extreme) and less understandably lots of workout stations. Which I bypassed. Naturally.

Initial opinions of Cairns were that its not the prettiest place. Hints of Miami beach, but without the amazing art deco buildings, flash cars and pristine shoreline. Instead, the beach extends into mud flats, with wader birds darting about inbetween the palm sized crabs. The birds are pretty awesome. From yellow faces, with yellow cheek flaps extending down the neck and long spindly legs, to tiny grey dovelike creatures with bright blue faces and a hilarious mating bellow/dance! Big signs proclaim the presence of crocodiles in the water - tourists and local residents flock to the 'Lagoon' instead, a waterfront swimming complex. Despite the image that description usually produces, its not too bad actually.

The purpose of my walk was to visit the dive company with whom I had booked my overnight dive trip. Amazingly, they had offered me free underwater camera rental for the two days, in exchange for use of my photos and a review. I had the address, and it was still before the midday heat, so nothing could go wrong, right?

An hour later, having walked around the whole central area of Cairns, I looked up to find I was standing outside KPMG. Hmmm, some bizarre homing instinct? Due to the heat/general confusion, I asked the nearest person for help with directions. Unfortunately, she was aged 60 at a conservative estimate, and wearing a bright yellow 'party all night, sleep all day' t-shirt as a dress. Not surprisingly, she wasnt that helpful.

I did eventually make it though, and was presented with an amazing camera, with a great flash/diffuser combo. Essential as colour often appears different underwater, hence most underwater pics are that bluey/green colour. I got the giggles as it came housed in a black lock box. So I left the shop looking deeply dodgy, like those men you see leaving banks wearing visors and handcuffed to suitcases.

On return to the hostel, our room had been invaded by 'outsiders', so retreated downstairs to collapse on a sofa and surreptitiously eavesdrop on the other backpackers. God these people talk some shit...!

Evening spent wandering round the night market. Nabbed a 40 minute massage for $15! The walk into town was amazing - the light was falling and all the bats were coming out, swooping just over your head.

The market sold the usual tourist tat. With the odd gem!

Budget banter

It has been pointed out that for backpacking, the figures quoted in the last post are not really that budget. To those critics - I entirely agree, in Africa/India/Vietnam etc you can happily get bed and board and booze for $10.

But this is Australia. Land of the expensive. So untroubled (well, relatively) by the recession we so bemoan in Europe that they float huge ducks into Sydney Harbour and call it art.

When a beer is $7, and a burger is $15, trust me, we are seriously scrimping!

Budget backpacking

So there is travel agent shpeel budget and then there is real budget. With little money left, but determined to make the most of our time in Australia, I have headed to Queensland with friends for some very real budget backpacking.

We have limited ourselves to $20 per day for food and $15 for drink. Hardly your average east coast raving! But necessary if we are to manage diving the barrier reef, sail around the Whitsundays and drive a 4wd along 75mile beach on Fraser island. haha, spoiled bitches!

So our first stop is Cairns. For $17 each we get a bed, hot showers, access to a pool, free breakfast, and free dinner when you buy a $5 drink. Amazing. Maybe it would be better to stay here than return to Sydney...?

Nemo nightmares

Spent a frustrating few hours on the phone to a travel agent, trying to organise a trip to the Whitsundays. Sweet as she was, I almost lost it after the third time I realised we were being booked in on the wrong dates and had yet again shrunk from three to two people.

Popped into the city to run some errands, and, as I was in the vicinity, decided to dash back into the aquarium (annual pass triumphs again!) to recharge my batteries. Ah peace, tranquility. Erm, not so much.

 

Rookie mistake - its still the school holidays. People who know me know my slight aversion to children (there are, obviously, notable exceptions!). Unfortunately, they seem to interpret my fear as friendliness (the mind boggles...) and I often end up in uncomfortable situations. Such as the child who climbed onto my lap on the bus on the way back from the cricket and stayed there. The mother wasn't fussed. I was, but could hardly throw it off. That never goes down too well.

Today they were en masse and at their worst. Cries of "I can't find Nemo!" reverberated around. Well no dear, this is the shark tank, he might be a little out of place. Much as I love it, that film has a lot to answer for. "Oh look, a Nemo" - hmm, well its not a clown fish, its not even orange, wtf are you talking about you insane tiny human?!?

I found Nemo. He looked grumpy.

Then on to the ray exhibit - "that killed Steve Irwin" hiss, boo. Temptation to roundly abuse said 'national treasure' only just kept under wraps. This also ruined my revisiting of my favourite camp fish (I have christened him Desmond). Although he was still keen to perform.

Ended up finding a quiet (ish) corner and staring at the jellyfish for a long, long time while trying to relax.

 

Then walked round the corner into a 10ft crab (10 foot! seriously!) which put paid to my hard work. It was terrifying.

Ok, so there was no way the photo was going to do it justice...

 

Crab, chilli, and cervical sweeps

Went out to dinner to celebrate Kirk's birthday. Fantastic place called Harry's Singapore Chilli Mudcrab. The crabs looked and smelt amazing, as did the prawns. I looked on longingly, cursing my shellfish allergies yet again. Despite eating chicken (tasty but boring) somehow I still managed to ingest something. Lets just call it a sleepless night...

The conversation was varied and amusing. And disturbing. Dead goats, incidents with squash racquets etc. As usual, pregnancy was a popular topic. Cervical sweeps and mucus plugs abounded. Well, not literally. Dont look them up. Definitely not the best conversation while eating...

Crab also abounded... it turns out that while cracking the shell, you can easily get it all over yourself... and the person next to you. It lived up to its chilli name. Cries of 'I can't feel my face' followed. As did much discussing of the likelihood of burning rings the next morning. Tres charmant.

After dinner, the cake that Amanda and I had slaved over (well, she slaved, I watched and made unhelpful suggestions) was presented. Unfortunately, the icing which we had dedicatedly stirred for over half an hour had solidified in the industrial fridge of the restaurant to the consistency of toffee. Which made it very hard to eat.

So instead we had a balloon fight while we waited for the bill. Naturally...!

 

Post work drinks... without the work

As my Christmas present to my flatmates, we went to see La Soiree at the Opera House. To anyone who hasnt been fortunate enough to see this show, I urge you to find a way. From Mario, Queen of the Circus, to Captain Frodo, who could get his entire body through a tennis racket (via several dislocations and an awkward moment with the nipple bars!) to the frankly dreamy 'English Gentlemen' and 'Bathboy' it was a great night out.

Today, I once again found myself needing to buy a present for a flatmate, so set out for Paddy's market, home to all that is cheap and tacky and fabulous. I especially liked these.

Stopped off at Darling Harbour to check out one of the Sydney festival exhibits. No need for explanation with this one. Definitely my kind of thing.

Met up for drinks with Vicky. After a quick French Martini at the Argyle (gorgeous, stylish bathrooms - so stylish in fact that it took me about 10 minutes to work out how to turn the tap on), we headed to Palmers & Co, a beautiful prohibition style cellar bar, complete with taxidermy and collections of Irishmen.

From there, we turned to Stitch. Wonderfully lowkey, it entrance is only identified by a large singer sewing machine. The bar is also made up of singers. Drinks are served in a variety of vessels, including jars, test tubes and old Chambord bottles. We sat in a room with chalked blackboard walls, Moet lamps, and champagne trays decorating the ceiling. It was fab.

 

 On the way home, I suddenly noticed that the tree opposite our house, which I previously thought had really interestingly dark bark patterns, actually had been 'artistically altered'. Love this country.

 

Heatwave headaches

 

As the temperature soared into the 40s we headed up North to Palm Beach. Golden sand, almost deserted, with the famous Home and Away lighthouse on the hill, it was an obvious choice. To avoid the intense heat, we ran straight into the sea - and stayed there - despite the lifeguard's protestations (we are still unsure whether this was because it wasn't technically a topless beach, or because we were getting caught in the rip and not really caring...) Savvy travellers that we are.

Absolutely amazing lunch at the beach house - sitting in the middle of a huge fruit and flower stall, sipping coconuts out the shell and slowly melting.

 

 

Attempts at an after lunch walk were curtailed by all the bush paths being shut because of the fire risks. Dejected, we did the only thing possible. We plunged back into the sea.

Back at Bondi for the evening, the sea was full of people, despite the pitch black sky, and the all to frequent shark warnings. By midnight, the temp resolutely remained in the high 30s. This meant that the journey home across the city was rubbish - especially the discovery that the air conditioning on the trains didnt extend to the Inner Western line.

Returned home to find that the one and only fan was broken. Doh.

Harri then rang to say she had been bitten by an unidentified large black spider while taking in the washing. Panic and frantic googling ensued. Luckily, after 10 sleepless, sweaty hours of worrying, she was still alive the next morning.