Crikey! Its Australia Zoo! (and Byron Bay! G-narly!)

Leaving Hervey Bay, we made a decision that after over a week of mainly water based activities, that maybe it was time to see what else Australia had to offer. So we headed for the seaside town of Maroochydore, a stopping off point for Australia Zoo. Staying in the quaint little seaside backpackers hostel, Cotton Tree backpackers, we organised our trip.

Australia Zoo was set up as a reptile park by a guy called Bob Irwin, father of Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter. Over the years, under the stewardship of the younger Irwin (prior to his death) and his wife the zoo has grown massively.

We arrived just in time for elephant feeding time but on seeing the hundreds of people queuing to feed the lovely ladies, we wandered on. I’d been warned by a few people prior to the visit not to have too high an expectation of Australia Zoo, it was after all, just a zoo. It may sound cheesy, but I couldn’t help but feel there was a lot more to it than that. Every exhibit, every information stand, every thing oozed with the infectious enthusiasm you saw in Steve Irwin on his now infamous Crocodile Hunter TV show.

Wandering around the zoo, you have the opportunity to see animals that you just don’t get to see every day: wombats, elephants, koalas, kangaroos, wallabies, crocodiles, alligators, cassowaries and Tasmanian devils to name but a few. Incidentally, I now understand the Looney Toons crazy Taz – they’re nippy, grizzly little critters.

We had the chance to visit the new arrivals Pisang and Yoddah the Red Pandas) at feeding time and chat to their keeper.

We were even lucky enough to get to pet the kangaroos who stroll around their open enclosure (if such a thing exists) like a dog would at home!

We finished off the day with the birds of prey show, the highlight of which was the eagle, who was rescued as a chick and although massive, we were assured by his keeper, was small as male adults go! All in all though, Australia zoo was quite and experience. Its hard not to leave the place, without being affected by the enthusiasm you see around the place, from the legacy of Steve Irwin, to the ongoing work being carried out by his family and all of the staff there. Definitely something worth a visit if you are ever in that neck of the woods.

Australia Zoo was for us, the reason for the visit to Maroochydore and the next stop beckoned. This was one I was really looking forward to. The surfing mecca of Byron Bay. A day spent on the bus was definitely going to be worth it. I could picture it. Clear blue skies, blazing sunshine, crystal clear water and crashing surf as I catch a wave and ride i. into shore. Reality was slightly different. We arrived to misty, dull weather, too late to catch any surf! To make up for it we visited OzyMex, providers of the most deliciously yummy nachos ever! If you’re ever in Byron, seriously, do not miss it!

Satisfied, we set about planning our stay there. With the weather still not improving the next day, we reluctantly dragged ourselves out of doors to book a surfing lesson. There was no way I was going to leave Byron Bay without getting my surf on! So at lunch time, we rocked back up to the surf shop to meet our instructor. The rain began almost instantly to pour down as we stood in the car park, wetsuited and shivering, our instructor looking more and more every minute like all he wanted to do was hop back in the car, drive home and curl back under his duvet. There was no turning back though, rain or no rain, surf was up!

We headed down to a section of the bay known as The Wreck, unsurprisingly because there is an old shipwreck there (much further out than we were going, so no need to worry at home!). The waves looked a bit bigger, more frequent and frothier than during our last surfing experience in Bali. When we got into the water, I also discovered they were significantly stronger, with a nasty little undertow, which threatened to drag you back out if you allowed yourself to lose balance.

If I had expected a cushy two hours in the water, pottering out with my board for a carefully selected wave, I was sorely mistaken. Shane was going to make us work. We started with the usual drills and safety briefings on the beach and then took a few handy waves lying on our bellies, then our knees. Shortly after, we graduated to our attempts at standing. Not as rusty as I expected, we managed to catch a few waves each. As i waded back out after one slightly less successful attempt, I was told to get on the board and paddle out. Not a bother! Not the first time anyway. An hour later, after paddling back out after every wave, successful or otherwise, I was beginning to understand what was so often repeated – surfing is 90% paddling, 10% catching waves. i don’t think I can ever remember my arms, shoulders and back being so utterly exhausted. Despite my whining, I think Shane felt sorry for me and mortifyingly, gave me a tow out, with his toe. He hooked his toes on the nose of my board and paddled out dragging me behind. I did actually attempt to assist by paddling, but the total absence of a difference in speed or progress when I stopped left me under no illusions as to the efficacy of my paddling skills.

Exhaustion and aching limbs all taken into account, it was without a doubt my best surfing experience to date. I caught some great waves (great for me as a sub average beginner I hasten to add), and the satisfaction of paddling out to catch the wave was something I hadn’t enjoyed previously. My body smiled and my equally exhausted brain did however do a little jig when the 2 hours was up. Shattered but satisfied, I was ready to head back for a hot shower, some warm clothes and some good food! I had enjoyed my Byron experience, a little rest and I reckoned I’d be ready to tackle Sydney.

Hervey Bay and Fraser Island

After leaving the Whitsundays we headed south to Hervey Bay, the most commonly used departure point for Fraser Island.  Arriving as the storms which flooded much of southern Queensland were making a slow retreat, we knew it was likely that the weather would be less than ideal for a 2-3 day camping trip, so we opted instead to stay in the cosy folds of the YHA in Hervey Bay and venture to Fraser for a one day trip.

As one of the “must do attractions” on the east coast, we had expected a lot from Fraser Island, perhaps a little too much given the weather.  An early morning departure saw us standing on the pier in Hervey Bay at about 7am waiting for the ferry across to the swish and apparently eco-friendly resort of Kingfisher Bay.  The tour and its talkative guide took us on a one day whistle stop tour of the island.  We visited all the key sites – the infamous lake McKenzie – a huge, crystal clear. freshwater lake, fringed by almost snow white sand.  Similarly to Whitehaven beach in the Whitsundays, this sand has a high silica content giving it its talcum powder like appearance and texture.  Lake McKenzie is normally a popular swimming spot, but the best I managed was a little paddle.

Fortunately, our guide was well prepared for the unseasonal weather and as we arrived back at the bus after our stroll/paddle/swim, we were greeted with mugs of hot tea and a crate (I’m not exaggerating) of cookies, muffins and other baked treats … mmm mmmmm!

On leaving the lake, we motored on to the middle of the Island and the aptly named Central Station, which was the old home of the logging industry in Fraser.  The logging industry could have decimated the island were it not for some forward thinking people who, back before being an eco-warrior was the fashionable thing, began to impose restrictions on what trees could be felled and when.  It is thanks to them, Fraser Island has managed to remain the little stunner it is!  We strolled through the rainforest (in the rain) from Central Station back to the bus where well boarded again and head for some grub.  This brought us closer to what for many was going to be the highlight, the drive down the 70 mile beach. 

Fraser Island is the world’s largest sand island and is a world heritage site.  You would think as a sand island it can’t be that large, it is, its over 100km long and just short of 20km wide, and one coast line is bordered by this 70-mile beach.  The beach is actually an official highway (and airstrip), rules of the road must be observed and its a busy spot, even on a dreary day.  Motoring along, with the surf pounding, really, really pounding, only metres from the edge of the bus was quite an awesome experience.

On the journey down the beach, we had the opportunity to stop at some of the   beautiful and world famous sites, such as the Pinnacles with their coloured sand mounds (which they say need a bit of sunshine to reveal their full range of colours, so unfortunately we were out of luck), the wreck of an old cruise liner, which ran aground on Fraser while being towed (minus its propellers) to a wrecking yard in Japan and finally to the gorgeous freshwater Eli Creek.

As we meandered homewards, we were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a few members of the largest population on the island, the dingoes!  its hard to see them as the vicious and territorial animals you are so frequently warned of throughout the tour, they just look like over grown corgis!!!

Overall, the whole Fraser Island experience was more interesting, than the incredible spectacle we had be conditioned to expect.  Glad we did it, glad we saw it, I’d probably even recommend it, but its something to see once and I doubt I’ll be back.

The Whitsundays & Solway Lass

It took some hasty arrangements, and early morning bus and a slap on the wrist for not reading the terms and conditions, but we eventually made it to Airlie Beach, the gateway to the Whitsunday Islands, to board the Tall ship, Solway Lass, for a 3 day cruise around the islands.

Solway Lass has a long and varied history including stints in Germany, Scotland  (where she was named) and she even ran aground in Sandymount during a snowstorm – who would have guessed!

We departed shortly after dark and motored to our first anchor point were we stayed over night before heading on early the next morning to Whitsunday Island, the largest of the group, and Whitehaven Beach.  This incredible beach is exactly as you would imagine the perfect white sand, turquoise water strand.  It is regularly voted into the Top 10 beaches in the world and its not hard to see why.  The sand is 99% silica sand, and is so fine and smooth it actually squeaks when you walk on it.  Apparently the sand was used by NASA in building parts for the Hubble telescope.  Now, however, it is protected, so no filling a little bottle before you leave.

 

Stinger (jellyfish) season is just its end, so we had to cover up in our stinger suits before going swimming, but it was about the most idyllic morning I’ve had.  White sand, crystal clear (warm!) water, float in the sea on a more or less deserted beach – Australia just gets better.  Once we left the beach, we headed on to our next destination Hook Island.  The wind was pretty slack, but we still managed to sail for a short distance, although we weren’t far off moving backwards on the tide!

Snorkelling was on the agenda the next day and our first stop was at Maureen’s Cove (there must be some Irish connection there!) a coral beach (ouch) along a section of reef.  It was a little windy unfortunately, so the visibility wasn’t great, but we managed to snorkel for a short while.  For the uneducated snorkeler, it was a little less impressive than the snorkelling in Cairns, although some of the group managed to spot some turtles, and one poor girl had a close encounter with a stinger!  (Stinger suits were worth it after all).

Arriving back at the boat, the fun really kicked in as the rope swing came out!  We took turns jumping from the side of the boat, swinging out over the ocean before dropping in various spectacular if inelegant ways into the deep blue!  Jets of saltwater up the nose aside, it was brilliant. 

After all that hard work, we tucked into a well deserved lunch while the captain took us towards our second destination Mackerel Bay.  This time, there was no beach to swim from, so we went straight from the rib into the water at a section of shallow reef.  The timing was good, although it was shallow as we arrived, the tide was coming in, making for some fantastic snorkelling.  No turtles this time, but the coral was incredible.  I had never realised the huge variety of coral that can be seen, some looked like briar patches, others like sponges, others like brains.  We saw little shoals of fish swaying forward and back in the tide almost like leaves in the breeze. 

Once we were all back on board and had another rope swing (the poor captain had to be like a school teacher – everybody one more go and then we have to leave!), we headed on for a sheltered cove where we stayed at anchor for the night.

All too soon it was the final day!  We started with a bushwalk on yet another gorgeous island, where we saw monitor lizards, chilled out on another stunning, secluded cove and ate green ants, really! (they taste like sour jellies!). The afternoon was to be spent sailing (at last) our beautiful tall ship back to Airlie beach.  Unfortunately, despite the captain’s best efforts to manoeuvre us into the wind, we were unable to sail in.  The only downside to the trip.  With 11 sails, she would make an incredible sight in full sail.  So, we had to settle for a leisurely motor back to Airlie Beach where we bade our farewell to Solway Lass! 

Some things never change …

Travelling has always been something the Irish have done.  Back in the days of the famine we left on ships in our droves, destine for other shores, determined to make our fortunes.  When the recession hit in the eighties, be it America, England or further ashore, we hit the high seas or at least the great highways in the sky, determined that the then poor “current economic climate” (dontcha just hate that phrase?) wouldn’t hamper our grand plans for a prosperous life.  Nowadays, we’re still travelling, but its the celtic tiger generation, like me who are doing it.  Not content with the fact that we grew up in, without a doubt the most prosperous times our nation has ever experienced, we yearn to see more!  Not that this is a bad thing.  We’ve lived privileged lives, we might just learn a few lessons as we travel!

Being of this privileged generation of Irish travellers, I’ve had the chance over the past few months the visit some of the most beautiful, but also most impoverished countries in the world.  Travel in them is incredible – breathtaking scenery, taste bud tantalising cuisine at every street corner (literally) – but its also challenging.  So, much as I am ashamed of myself at admitting it, it was going to be nice to arrive in Australia.  Ok, so its the opposite side of the world, almost as far away as you can get from home, but it was definitely going to afford some of the creature comforts I’d been missing. 

Generations before me arrived here, eager to make a new life, prepared to work their fingers to the bone to do just that – scrubbing floors, cleaning streets, working the land, building the country I was now exploring.  Not me, I was here to enjoy the great barrier reef, the sun, sea and surf, the infamous aussie beach lifestyle.  Imagine my surprise though, when history deigned to repeat itself.

I’ve seen those TV documentary shows in Sydney airport.  I know its worse to lie on your customs forms, no matter how trivial the lie might seem.  I checked down through the form – No, I have no illegal drugs – No, I’m not carrying in excess of $10,000 AUS (I wish), No – I’m pretty sure I am not carrying any weapons or explosives, No – I have no fruit or nuts (proud of that one, that’s what they always catch the backpackers on).  Next ..! Mud soiled footwear? Ah, that’ll be a yes then – muddy boots from trekking in Nepal and Laos, muddy runners from running in Singapore.  But sure, I’ve declared it, I’m sorted!  Its been a long overnight flight – welcoming as Cairns airport is, I just want to get out of it and to the hospital.

Unfortunately, Cairns customs officials and the ghosts of Irish travellers past had other plans.   We were informed our shoes, the mud soiled ones, would need to be cleaned and were pointed to the cleaning station.  Maybe its the celtic tiger cub in me, but I honestly expected I would hand over the shoes and receive back a spanking new pair of runners and a gleaming pair of trekking boots.  Not so. 

At 6.30am, after a two-legged eight-hour flight, I was handed a bottle of hardcore disinfectant (this stuff kills ANYTHING) and a scrubbing brush pointed towards the sink and told by the customs officer he’d be back shortly to check on me. 

All the way to Australia to scrub some spoiled brat’s boots eh?  Some things never change!!!!

Living it up in Singapore (and Bali)

We seem to have made a bit of a habit out of arriving in Singapore utterly exhausted and in the early hours of the morning.  So too was the plan this time.  Departing from Ko Lanta in Thailand at 7am, we hopped on our bus to the mainland town of Krabi, expecting the spend the night there and then to head on to Singapore the next day.  However, a tedious journey and a persuasive Thai salesman (who once lived in Borris-in-Ossory – he could not have made that up!), we) later, we were onto a bus to Singapore.  A mini bus for 4 hours and then onto a luxury VIP sleeper bus to take us all the way there.  Fools, Fools, we just never learn!

Sure enough, four hours later we changed bus, onto another mini bus, this one to take us as far as Penang, then though, we would get the sleeper bus all the way to Singapore.  Arriving in Penang at about 8pm (you can see how this got a little …. irksome shall we say?), we were really looking forward to the sleeper bus.  It sounds counter intuitive, but you really need to sleep after those long bus journeys.  After a blazing row with the guy in the bus office, we boarded a coach this time (can we have a woo hoo?) but no sleeper berths in sight, nor indeed the food that comes with the so called VIP buses (we left Ko Lanta at 7am – now 8pm, a little peckish).  Reluctantly we sat down and made ourselves semi comfortable for the long ride to Singapore.  Not to draw out the story too much, but after 2 international border crossings, two ferry crossings, 7 buses and 25 hours after leaving beautiful Ko Lanta, we eventually arrived in Singapore.

Luckily for us, we were back to visit Ailbhe, this time for a longer visit.  The bank holiday weekend was just about to kick in, so after a day spent recovering, we hit the centre of Singapore’s ex-pat nightlife, Boat Quay.  After drinks, Japanese style Tapas, more drinks, some dancing to cheesy 80s covers, we eventually made it home.  And what better way to recover than …. wakeboarding!  We loaded our sore heads and queasy stomachs out to the water to try our hands at what seems to be an incredibly fast growing sport in Singapore.  Schmo was a bit of a natural (again!) and took to it like a duck to water, cresting over the wake of the speeding boat like Torvill or Dean over ice, me, well although I redeemed myself a little towards the end, I think I probably looked more like ????. As promised though, it knocked the stuffing out of the hangovers and we’ve found a sport we both plan to give a bash at when we return to the less appealing water at home!

To continue our active weekend, Saturday morning saw us head to East Coast Park for some roller blading, followed by a night out in Clarke Quay with the cool kids!  Feeling in much better shape on Sunday morning, after an early swim and a stroll to sample yet another international cuisine, we headed to the stunning McRitchie resevoir for a run!  Naturally the run had to be followed by some food.  This time we opted for Korean BBQ.  We were not disappointed!

All too soon though, our time in Singapore was up and we moved on (albeit temporarily), to Bali.

We had thought initially we would head back to Malaysia after the long weekend in Singapore, but a suggestion was made of heading to Bali.  It would cost us slightly more to get there, but when were we ever going to have a chance like this again? So we headed for Denpasar, the capital.

Bali, as you would expect from all the stereotypical ideas you have of it, offered a chilled out week.  When we arrived we checked into a dodgy little hotel in Kuta, along the main strip of beach and in the most popular back packer destination.  We strolled around, got to grips with the place and lamented not listening to the one piece of advice we got – don’t stay in Kuta.  So early on the third day, we headed East across the penninsula to the more quiet Sanur.  There we found a gorgeous little guesthouse, with little bungalows, and beautiful little pool area surrounded by frangipani trees whose flowers literally fell into the pool as you floated along.  needless to say, we were reluctant to leave. 

Eventually, we persuaded ourselves to.  We hopped into our hired Suzuki Jimny, which bless it, really came from the bottom of the car rental heap, and headed for the centre of the island and the town of Ubud.  Bali changes completely on leaving the southern penninsula and becomes an island where people actually, rather than surf and party!  Ubud itself is a busy little tourist trap though, with an art gallery or craft shop on every corner.  It was tempted to wander around oo-ing and ah-ing but with no possibility of carrying anything homewards, we abandoned that idea and headed for the monkey sanctury. 

Scabby monkeys.  That’s what we called them.  They are kind of like the rats or pigeons of our world.  They’re a pest, they’re disease ridden, they’re seriously cheeky – but man they’re cute!

 

Cute and all as they were though, there was a sun lounger sitting under and Frangipani tree with my name on it, so we retired to the pool!!!

Bali is famous as a surf destination, but we felt it would be wrong to leave the island without giving it a go.  So off we headed to the Big Kahuna surf school.  Suffice it to say,we had a ball, we managed, with varying degrees of assistance, to surf the odd wave and pleased as punch decided another day of surfing had to be squeezed in.  Minus the instructors, we realised we weren’t quite ready to take on the Aileen, but we have the photographic evidence to prove we did manage to stand up!

Sadly, our second day of surfing brought our time in Bali to an end, we had time for a speedy shower on the beach and a bite to eat and we said goodbye!  Next stop? Singapore … where else?