Australia's Glass House Mountains

I couldn't finish my Australia posts without sharing these lovely pictures of the Glass House Mountains with you. The area is about 60 miles north of Brisbane so, yes, I should have mentioned them ages ago!

Guess what? Our friend James Cook discovered them! The little scallywag, hogging Oz's debut for himself. And being a complete genius, he named them the Glass House Mountains because their elevation reminded him of a glass house. No, I don't get it either.

Anyway, my camera is only average, but I hope the photos really convey just how empty - physically, at least - Australia can be. Although it's not completely my cup of tea, there are parts of the country that are very beautiful and steeped in intriguing history.

The mountains are basically what's left over from volcanoes millions of years ago. But indigenous Australians view them as an important part of the Dreamtime, which refers partly to what they believe to be the time of creation, but also represents a complex set of spiritual beliefs. A good resource if you want to learn more about this important and interesting facet of the country's culture can be found here.










You're also likely to spot some roos lazing around the mountains. Gorgeous.



Toodles
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Rafting, AKA the day I may have confused whiplash with a near-death experience

Once upon a time, there was a girl who could not swim very well. She decided to go rafting down the Tully River in Australia. Her and a friend booked in for what is known as "extreme rafting", which means the boat leaders do all they can to get participants in the water screaming their dear heads off. Why the girl decided to go extreme rafting is a mystery to this very day. She obviously never looked at footnotes four and five of this Wikipedia entry.

They were taken, along with about 15 other fair maidens and town folk, to the river, which is in northern Queensland. They were given all the right equipment for the voyage. A man, who in retrospect may have been mentally unhinged, gave them instructions for the day ahead. It all sounded like jolly good fun, the girl thought.

The water was very cold and the rapids were furious. Shivering was constant and the ongoing, immediate threat of having her teeth knocked out by a fellow rafter was a little burdensome. Such buffoonery was taking place in the other boats. But hey ho! She thought. The inpatient on day release who had distributed the rules was mischievous, pushing people off the sides of the dinghies when they were not looking and giving the local court jester a run for his money.

After lunch of some hearty cow and meaningless grog, the rafters set upon their journey once again. The crazy fellow leading the group pointed to a giant rock. Look! It's a giant rock from which we can jump! The whole group was mightily enthused. And little did she know, the girl was about five minutes away from what later turned out to be really rather bad whiplash and a hard lesson in never giving into peer pressure.

She jumped. Being only quite small, the height of the rock was frightening. And by accident, she jumped in a somewhat odd position, hitting the surface of the water with a loud - so loud it is possible the next town heard - smack. This is odd, she thought. There is severe pain in my shoulder and head. Be there a brick wall, rather than water, she pondered? No, it is water, and she faked wellness while climbing back on to the raft. Dizziness and intense throbbing followed all day and throughout the twilight hours. Be this my last sleep, she wondered? After all, concussion has been known to silently precede an even quieter death. With no method of telegram or carrier pigeon, she set her rooster to wake her up in the small hours of the morning, to check death had not arrived. But thankfully it had not, and she lived to see another day.

Cairns, Queensland

My last stop in Australia was Cairns. This is very common, as it's one of the furthest north places on the east coast that's "worth visiting" and has a "major" airport. I use "speech marks" rather than 'inverted commas' as I'm actually quoting what somebody told me about the "city". As you can tell, I've come to regard their opinions as somewhat flawed. The fact it's the last stop on many travellers' Oz adventure means you end up having numerous versions of the conversation mentioned in this post.

In the universe where I grew up, Cairns isn't a city. It's a town. It's small, full of very short buildings and may have got stuck in a time-space wormhole at some point during the 1970s, because a lot of it doesn't look like it has progressed since then.



Regardless. I actually had a lot of fun there! I learned a valuable lesson; enjoyment isn't always about where you are and the tools or money at your disposal. It's who you're with. This isn't always true and, yes, it seems like a really obvious thing to say. But I stayed at a really rundown, odd little hostel (about a 15-minute walk from the town centre), that turned out to be awesome! And all of a sudden I just relaxed again. Lovely.

Here is a delightful picture of the slightly odd room I shared for eight nights with three girls and two complete legends. Thanks to Emma for the massively unflattering photo.



I know you want to hear about Cairns, but let's consider what's really important here: Cheesy beans on toast. When I have beans on toast, I just whack a bit of cheese on top. But no. Emma truly changed my life when we were cooking in what alleged to be a hostel kitchen and she explained that you can mix the cheese in with the beans. Here is a picture of her doing what can only be explained as wizardry and/or mind/cheese control.



Just look at my amazed face and her satisfaction at altering the course of my existence forever.





Culinary magic aside, we did the following, among other bits and bobs, in Cairns:

1. Sunbathed - there is no natural beach, so instead, the centre of the city has a manmade lagoon. This is fab, because it's salt water and surrounded by lush grass and some sand, as well as little shops and eateries. The temperature, in Australia's WINTER, was about 31C every day.

2. Came second in a hostel pub-type quiz and lost by one point after I got a question about Manchester wrong. How was I supposed to know City now play at the Etihad Stadium? I said Arsenal. But that's the Emirates Stadium. Whatever.

3. Watched Emma have to get a gone-wrong piercing near-beaten/ripped out of her ear.

4. Said goodbye... to Australia and some amazing people. Despite my weird ol' time there, I'd go back to Oz. I'd like to visit Melbourne, for sure. Just maybe not for a couple of decades.

Toodles
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Townsville, Queensland

After the trip to Fraser Island, I went back to Noosa for a night to catch up with some people and do my laundry! Unsurprisingly, I ended up playing Mario Kart.


My next stop, annoyingly, was somewhere I didn't want to go but had to, due to the bus I was on. There are compulsory overnight stops and one of these is Rainbow Beach. Rainbow Beach sounds like Rainbow Road, which is arguably the hardest Mario Kart track (aside from Wario's Gold Mine, but this is debatable). I was hoping this meant the location would be exciting and full of Italian plumbers, talking mushrooms and hungry dinosaurs, but it wasn't at all. In fact, it was a very dull, one-horse town with a beach full of "multicoloured" (i.e. brown) sand. Ho hum. I made some dinner, took it easy and finished my book.


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I passed through the Town of 1770 and Airlie Beach (pictured below, yes it was overcast and not very warm at all) in the next few days, in order to get to Townsville.



Two snafus made this a more difficult journey than I'd anticipated.

Snafu #1: 1770 is a complete DUMP and the hostel I'd booked into was like Guantanamo Bay, minus the repeat plays of the Barney theme tune (and obviously the waterboarding, which for the purposes of UK media law MAY NOT HAVE HAPPENED AT GUANTANAMO BAY, IT'S ALL JUST UNSUBSTANTIATED RUMOUR).

Snafu #2: I totally missed my bus from Airlie Beach to Townsville, so had to pay again for a replacement ticket, then had a big homesickness barf when I got there.

Anyway. Turns out, Townsville is actually really cute. You can't get more of a generic name than Townsville. As it happens, this quiet little um, town in Queensland has a slightly student/bohemian vibe, making it a touch more interesting than the numerous beach um, towns on the east coast.

Townsville's not even a beach town, though (I'm totally shift+F7-ing the shit out of this blog entry now so as not to use the word town too much) - it's the jumping-off point if you want to visit Magnetic Island (more about that later). It's pretty quiet, with a cute market on Saturday (or Sunday, I can't recall which; constant travelling means you forget what day it is and rarely know the date) at which I bought some nice earrings. Yes, I'm that interesting. I also did a bit more running around the, ahem, municipality.



Not much more to say, except from the fact Townsville (damn I just said town again. And again) is where my super-duper, nearly-new, beloved black Berghaus fitted fleece jacket disappeared, never to have been seen since. Gutted. Oh and I met a guy there who had lived in the apartment block opposite Hannah and I in Salford. Small word, insert cliché here, etc etc…

Toodles
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Noosa, Queensland

Noosa is a little surfing town (yeah, another one) on what's called Queensland's Sunshine Coast. It is picturesque (yawn), with a few nice shops, a pretty beach (another yawn) and not much else. There are two bars, frequented by all the backpackers. They are worse than the old Manchester Met University Student Union, which was spectacularly grim.

That said, I ended up having a grand old time in Noosa. I had been feeling a bit like I needed to start exercising again so went running along the shoreline and, cringefully, had one of those moments where you look at the gorgeous ocean, the soft sand, the blue sky... and think yes I definitely made the right decision to go travelling. Running is the one thing that clears my head and it felt great to get out again. It definitely beat running on the treadmill at the gym my sister and I go to... she can tell you all about the characters in there if you have a spare five hours and want to be put off your dinner.

Here's the beautiful coastline I was lucky enough to visit... but don't be fooled; it wasn't nearly warm enough there to sunbathe.




ANYWAY. In Noosa there was the usual selection of hostels, but a friend and I plumped for Noosa Flashpackers, which lives up to its name by offering a little bit of backpacker luxury for only a few more dollars (it was the maximum I paid for accommodation in Oz, at $30 per night. I'm writing this from Asia, where the idea of paying $30 per night makes me feel a bit sick). It also meant I got to meet some awesome people, minus a few bad apples/foxes in the henhouse/whichever metaphor you prefer. We spent many an hour playing Mario Kart on the Wii in the TV lounge. It got pretty ugly. I'm not naming any names but you know who you are and dirty tricks won't get you very far in life. Also, 150cc is way too difficult and if you hadn't stolen King Boo every single race maybe I would have won a few more times. Losing isn't my speciality and neither is Dry Bones.



Flashpackers is the kind of place you go for a night and end up staying five or six. It was all too easy to just laze around and relax. For me, this was a new thing. I'm not used to doing nothing. Between my iPhone, netbook, compulsive need to write lists, go to the gym, work, chatter and stay busy, it's simple at home for me never to have a spare moment. Here, on the other side of the world, I had to get used to doing the total opposite. Not only does your body have to slow down, but your mind does. It literally empties because you have so much time - oodles and oodles of time - to untie mental knots, compartmentalise, regroup and reboot. It doesn't mean you work perfectly when you switch yourself back on again, but it sure does feel good to stop and look at your surroundings for a minute. That reminds me of a line from Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Didn't he say something similar?

Toodles
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Brisbane, Queensland

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Hands down the most boring city I've ever visited. No culture, no identity, nothing. A river, some buildings, some shops, some lights, a good library, that's it. Sorry if I've offended anyone who lives there (? - pretty sure this blog's readership isn't that wide).

So dull I fell asleep for three hours in the hostel lounge. In the middle of the afternoon.



Snooze.
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Surfers "Paradise", Queensland

I think we've all had days on which we've been disappointed. For Dave, it was the day The A-Team got cancelled. I was particularly gutted when I found out Father Christmas wasn't real. Fi was super down when Ross Kemp left EastEnders, Hannah has never gotten over the end of My So-Called Life and Woodie is devo'd everytime Fi turns on the TV to watch Kendra. So we've all had our fair share.

What does this have to do with anything? Well, my next stop after Byron Bay was Surfers Paradise on the Gold Coast, in which I'd only planned to spend one night just to check it out, look around and relax. On the bus there the driver announces, as we enter Queensland from New South Wales, that Castlemaine XXXX beer is absolutelythebee'skneesandeveryonedrinksithere. Great. When the most noticeable thing about somewhere is the type of (shit) beer drunk in the region, you know you're not on to a winner. (Side note: I was trying to think about what drink the UK could be described as/famous for and I've settled for a Blue WKD or, if you're feeling flush, a Cheeky Vimto).

I'd also been told by numerous people that Surfer's Paradise is "totally like Miami or Vegas".

Well, I've been to both, and it's NOTHING like either. NOTHING. It's more like Blackpool. In fact, it's less fun than Blackpool, because when you go there you can at least have a possible brush with death.

I yawned at the skyline


Rolled my eyes at the beach


But I loved this


The thing that was starting to occur to me about Australia is how - and I don't mean this unkindly - prehistoric it all seems. It's just not advanced in the way we take for granted at home, whether that means the internet, the buildings, the general culture... there's just very little of anything. For instance, if you go into a book or music store, there is a) hardly any local material and b) the stuff from elsewhere is thin on the ground and hugely overpriced. I don't really understand why, but I did a little research and it looks like Surfers has only been an actual town for the past 80-odd years. 80 years. That's NOTHING. That means when my Nana was born, it didn't even exist. It's made me look at England's history and culture in a completely different way. Not that I'm using my Nana as the benchmark for whether a culture is old or new, but you catch my drift. (Side note: She is awesome though. I think she's like 85 but doesn't look it at all. She's super classy, had a cat called Piglet - best cat name ever - and loves horror movies. I love her.)

So... as you can tell by now, I was a bit disappointed with Surfers Paradise. It was grey, concrete and tacky. It was also raining heavily, so I put on my awesome little flowery rain mac (thanks mum!) and went for a quick walk. This is when disappointment #2 came in... I'd swapped some music with someone in my room and was really looking forward to listening to Adele's first album, given her second was so good. Guess what? It was rubbish.

Toodles
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Byron Bay, New South Wales

So a 12-hour bus ride, while suffering from a bad cold, gets me to Byron Bay, home to Australia's most easterly point and... drum roll please... famous residents such as OLIVIA NEWTON JOHN. WOW. It's still really nippy in Australia and I'm not loving it. Imagine my delight when the girl in the bunk next to me decides to bring a guy back for the night? That's sarcasm, by the way.

The whole thing lasted four excruciating minutes, preceded by her saying "how the f*** did I get so drunk?". What a classy lady. And what a boy of dubious morals. She also banged her head on the bunk bed ladder halfway through. Halfway through the four minutes, that is, not halfway up the ladder. I guess they just assumed everyone was asleep. The next morning, before I checked out early, he told me all about his exciting career plans, which involve "doing that fruit picking thing in Australia so I can stay for another year". And to think, ladies and gentlemen, that students now have to pay a whopping £9,000 per year so that they can graduate and then hit the heady heights of a banana plantation.

Enough of the bile. But Australia's pretty odd in that it attracts A LOT of young Brits who basically drink their way up the east coast. That, to me, isn't travelling. Anyone can book a plane ticket and a bus pass, buy some boxed wine (nicknamed goon in Oz, it's a badge of pride if you can survive a goon hangover. Mine was pretty horrendous, I have to admit. But then again the boxes are 4.4 litres. Who needs 4.4 litres of wine?). I therefore realised I'd have to be pretty careful about the kind of hostels I stayed in, because some were specifically full of people who were still clearly getting excited about drinking without mummy and daddy around, while others were chilled and fun.

Speaking of which, I stayed at another hostel for the next three nights in Byron Bay, and it was really good. The hostel was kind of open plan, with a great communal area, so after meeting some people we generally just hung out. I later discovered that someone who I thought was really cool was convinced I had merely "tolerated them". It must have been that complete bitch stare my friends tell me I've got - looks like it's my default setting...

In Byron Bay, I have to admit, I didn't do a whole lot. It's a cute little beach town and entirely pleasant on the eyes. Walking up to the lighthouse also provided some great views, but because I was a little on the poorly side I just took it easy and relaxed. There is a place lots of people go nearby called Nimbin, which is like a hippy town in which you can eat "special" cookies (I'll leave you to guess why they're special). I didn't go, but apparently it's pretty good fun.

Here's the view from halfway up the lighthouse path:




And here's the lighthouse (obviously):


Gorgeous views:


And on the beach:




Toodles
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Bondi Beach, New South Wales

I don't know if I was just in a generally blah mood but something about Australia so far just wasn't checking the boxes for me. So, I took a short bus ride to Bondi Beach, a cute town about eight kilometres from the centre of Sydney. I realise now there are more activities and places to go in and around Sydney than I chose to visit. But I only had a few days so I thought Bondi Beach would be worth a look.


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It wasn't. I'm glad I didn't miss out on going, but it's nothing special. I face the wrath of many Australia-lovers when I say this, but I just didn't see the attraction. There weren't even any hot surfers around. Now, remember that I've visited Australia during its winter. This means yes, it's sunny, but it's also nippy as hell and not nearly warm enough to sunbathe.

The beach itself is pretty picturesque, but the little town is surprisingly run-down and completely uninspiring. I have a feeling that it's one of those places in which you could have a really fun time and you'd therefore love it, but I had a stroll around and was back on the bus about an hour later. (Sidenote: I finally had a bit of time in Australia to catch up on my reading. I've written a separate post on those I have read and what I thought of them, if you're interested).

One thing I did like, however, was the artwork on the walls and steps next to the beach. This was my favourite:



There was some awesome graffiti and some touching murals dedicated to the Aussies caught up in the Bali bomb (Bali is a big Aussie holiday spot).











I also spotted what I think was another Banksy, but I can't be certain it was real.



Maybe someone can enlighten me as to why Australia wasn't OHMYGODLIKESUPERAMAZING thus far? Don't get me wrong, it's pleasant enough, but I can think of at least 50 places I've enjoyed more. In retrospect, I wish I'd taken the opportunity to visit Melbourne - but I can go back and do that another time!

Toodles
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Sydney, New South Wales, Australia

So... yes it's been a while since I blogged, primarily because the internet costs an absolute arm and a leg in Australia and I'd rather Skype and catch up with friends than bore you all! I also realised today than it's been three months since I left work, which is pretty strange. I find myself internally proofreading everything I read, so you can imagine how disappointed I was to find TWO typos in the new book I bought (which is A Wayward Angel: The Full Story of the Hell's Angels, in case you're interested).

Sydney. What can I say? Not much. It's okay. It's genuinely just okay. Lovely sights to see, a bustling yet surprisingly small city centre, but it didn't thrill me. Maybe I missed something crucial. I'm not sure. Nothing spectacular. The opera house looks just like it does on pictures. The bridge and harbour are fairly awesome, but it's just... meh. I don't know whether it was jet lag or tired eyes from seeing and doing so much on my trip so far, but I didn't fall in love with it. I bought some newspapers to read and they were really quite dull. Nobody can use apostrophes properly. Everybody has an odd fascination with pies... kangaroo pies, chicken pies, vegetable pies, anything as long as it's in a pie.





What else did I do in Sydney? Walked round the Botanical Gardens. Met up with some ex-colleagues who are now working here and we had a really lovely time catching up. Another night, much-missed friend Kaitlyn (now also working in Oz but is Canadian and lived in the UK for three years) and I ate chocolate fondue then got slightly tipsy on two glasses of wine (not quite sure how that happened) and sat by the harbour talking about when we used to work on the same editorial team. You'd be surprised how animated we can get talking about press releases. It was really great to see her.





I promise I won't leave it three weeks between posts this time...

Toodles
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Flying from LA to Sydney...

Means you get on a plane and when you get off it's almost two days later. But the flight only took 15 hours. It's a bit weird.

However, if you fancy driving the 15,000 miles, Google Maps has some thorough directions. Do have a read and check out point 13 in particular.


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Toodles
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