The bus couldn’t arrive quick enough from Tully, jokes aside we all said a deep and meaningful prayer to the big man in the sky for sending the bus on time! Once onboard we quickly settled into the rhythm of telling everyone around us about the experience, regardless if they were asleep. Harriet and Pez soon took up the bait and before long we were rattling away to them for the whole journey. Poor soles.We arrived in Townsville several hours later and had a short wait for the Ferry over to Magnetic Island. The ride over took just under an hour and we were all warned of the easy going locals who rushed for no one, perfect for Hubbs and his slow walking. Sure enough once on dry land we were waiting for the bus driver to sort himself out, he seemed to know an infinite amount of people to talk to and was enjoying the strained faces of all the travellers on his bus with no air conditioning in the heat of the day. The bus zig zagged across the island and we eventually ended up at Base the only hostel on the island.
After getting into our rooms, we headed down to the bar, only to be greeted by this view.
After getting into our rooms, we headed down to the bar, only to be greeted by this view.
Slightly better than the Red Lion back home. Unfortunately we missed super and were forced to go foodless for the first time on the travels…..eating’s cheating anyway.
Day two on the island and it was time to explore. First stop the nudist beach. Local informants had told us that it was frequented by the travelling Swedes and other fine females. Needless to say we arrived after a considerable hike to find one old chap strolling around in the tod. Standard. We got involved with the tan line reductions, and sure enough we were amusing ourselves with the kayakers who had rented from the local beach and been told to check out the beach we were on as it was ‘beautiful’. Waiting until they had drifted into shore before rolling over and giving them a wave and offering to help them get ashore. Surprisingly no one set foot on the beach that day.
Day two on the island and it was time to explore. First stop the nudist beach. Local informants had told us that it was frequented by the travelling Swedes and other fine females. Needless to say we arrived after a considerable hike to find one old chap strolling around in the tod. Standard. We got involved with the tan line reductions, and sure enough we were amusing ourselves with the kayakers who had rented from the local beach and been told to check out the beach we were on as it was ‘beautiful’. Waiting until they had drifted into shore before rolling over and giving them a wave and offering to help them get ashore. Surprisingly no one set foot on the beach that day.
The evening was pretty chilled with a couple of games of pool and the obligatory all you can eat BBQ. It goes with out saying that we slept in after such a feed and managed to get up in time to get the snorkels out for the day. Once again after donning the lycra suits we hit the water, pretty average snorkelling ensued due to the waves and strong wind.
We headed off to tea, slightly different to being back in Leeds dodging gang warfare and street crime we headed through the jungle to get our Pizza, which was by all accounts exceptional. A stop off at the bottle shop ensured we had the supplies to get us through the night, ie. Couple of boxes of Goon. PUB AMMO, Goon is the name used for disgustingly cheap wine that comes in boxes, the bladder can be doubled up as a pillow if drunk and blown up, aboriginal tramps apparently used this first and in native tongue goon means pillow. That should save a tie breaker question sometime in your lives.
The walk back was even more entertaining with the goon and we settled down on the beach to watch the sun set and get tucked into the ‘wine’. As Dach tagged onto the only ‘fitty’ on the island, the others quickly became bored of watching the Russian crash and burn so Hubbs and Baz felt that skinny dipping was in order to fuel their boredom. Dach soon realised that the night was not to be and soon joined in the ‘Baywatch’ style sea assault, minus the stinger suit in the Irkandji enriched waters – cue the backpacker paparazzi!!! We lived to tell the tale.
We headed off to tea, slightly different to being back in Leeds dodging gang warfare and street crime we headed through the jungle to get our Pizza, which was by all accounts exceptional. A stop off at the bottle shop ensured we had the supplies to get us through the night, ie. Couple of boxes of Goon. PUB AMMO, Goon is the name used for disgustingly cheap wine that comes in boxes, the bladder can be doubled up as a pillow if drunk and blown up, aboriginal tramps apparently used this first and in native tongue goon means pillow. That should save a tie breaker question sometime in your lives.
The walk back was even more entertaining with the goon and we settled down on the beach to watch the sun set and get tucked into the ‘wine’. As Dach tagged onto the only ‘fitty’ on the island, the others quickly became bored of watching the Russian crash and burn so Hubbs and Baz felt that skinny dipping was in order to fuel their boredom. Dach soon realised that the night was not to be and soon joined in the ‘Baywatch’ style sea assault, minus the stinger suit in the Irkandji enriched waters – cue the backpacker paparazzi!!! We lived to tell the tale.
We awoke with thick heads and 3 minutes to pack……we missed the bus…….…and the next one, we did manage to bring our Whitsundays trip forward and we did finally manage to get the bus and ferry. Onwards to Airlie Beach.
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