"Oh yeah guys you won't have any phone signal from when we turn off this highway" the bus driver announced as he swiftly took a right onto a new road. I didn't think much about it at the time.
Here I was in Rainbow beach, the rainbows were plentiful as well, well whenever the rain decided to take a short break. Fraser Island here I come. We were shepherded into a room, split onto groups, filled out alcohol lists, given a safety brief(don't forget the dingoes) and then asked for our credit cards. This being a moment that i did a double take, what? Credit cards? My heart jumped as far towards my mouth as is physically possible. Credit card- I think not.
There I stood happily in line,filled out my forms and did my business, next the dreaded moment. "Credit card?" "Don't have one" "$100 deposit instead, come back to me in the morning". My jaw dropped. Now I'm not usually that much of a penny counter, but this time things were different. "Well there goes my trip to Fraser island then, 3 days in rainbow beach instead, delightful" I thought. $100 isn't all that much I hear you say. I agree, but I had a slight problem, I had no Aussie ATM card. My previous hostel was supposed to forward it, but of course they didn't, how silly of me to think otherwise. I had limited cash, just about enough to cover the "extras" of the trip and a bit left over. Now there are no banks in Rainbow Beach, that would just be too easy. No matter how many times, or what way I looked at my cash it just wouldn't add up to $100. Plus I still had to eat, the sad thing being I couldn't even afford the $5 meal on offer, no lasagna for me. No little old me had to slave away with rations in the kitchen with one hob, two saucepans and one knife. Times were hard.
So I exhausted all possibilities: get a bus to the next town, walk there and back, ring home and ask for a few bob. Then realisation kicked, it was the weekend, banks don't do weekends, so none of these were an option and I couldn't afford to go on a wild goose chase. I had no signal whatsoever. I did manage to get an email away and a voice message from a dodgy phone box, but really it was all in vain. The banks were closed.
I had no options, falling short of selling myself. I began to make myself think Rainbow Beach wasn't all that bad in the rain and I could stay here another couple of nights, hey there were beaches and wait what's that, more beaches. After meeting my guide I was pretty sure there might be some head cases around, entertaining sometimes, for 3 days, I think not. Our tour on arrival by the bus driver had been "there's the hostels, that's the surf club and there's a shop." maybe not so bad if it wasn't constantly pouring rain.
My collection of 10 and 20 cents paid for dinner and I even managed to stretch to a bottle of lemonade and a packet of sweets for the trip. (I lived in hope!) Plus there was no way I'd swallow my pride that much and hand them over as my deposit. Well maybe if they reached to $100 mark but they didn't even come close.
I tried to find an answer, what could I sell, how could I make money fast, stealing isn't my style. who could I ask?
I checked the ATM machine in the hope it was all a big mistake and money would come flying out at me, if only. Night came and went, still no solution. I set out with the mind frame everything''ll be alright. I did everything as normal,stored my backpack, checked out(that was another $10 closer to Fraser island), I had my free pancakes. Then it happened.
I just did it, I went all in and didn't look back or think twice. Well I had no other choice really, I'd committed enough time and money to this already, I wasn't going to give up at the last hurdle. What else could i do? But ask a fellow backpacker (one a little less tight with cash than the rest, cash, alcohol and food are the most prized possessions of backpackers, this was no mean feat.) I'd sunk pretty low, I was sure she'd oblige, the lifesaver that she is, I never thought it'd come to begging.
I was all sorted now (well except for the fact that I'd have to scrounge more money for fuel and ice- i swear it's not a habit of mine!). I waited smugly for the wacky guide to appear jumping around the corner but he didn't show. He sent another guy instead who seemed to be rather confused as to why I was wanting to give him $100 - what had he done last night? He hadn't been told. I should've just kept quiet(damn honesty). Lesson learnt.
So we loaded our 4x4 and did a check on the vehicle. Honestly not knowing what we were looking for, hey I'm no mechanic. But after hearing woes of deposits and cash being handed over from fellow backpackers, it wasn't really a risk i wanted to take never mind was able to take, i didn't really fancy washing dishes or scrubbing floors for the rest of my days in debt. I'd struggled to come up with a $100 deposit never mind anything else.
The sky looked bleak but the atmosphere was electric, sure who wouldn't look forward to being crammed into a 4x4 with 11 strangers voyaging into the unknown. We were off to explore a dingo infested island where we were assured we'd "come back with sand in places we never knew existed", wondering why we were given a shovel and told "remember to bury at least 50cm deep" which lay beside a rather dubious looking toilet roll, what were we letting ourselves into? It's all a bit mad I'm thinking - a 4x4, 11 backpackers, eskies, beer for 3days, shovels, a map, a crash course in driving 4x4s and a tent, now off you go to the worlds largest sand island - just watch out for the dingoes -"oh and don't drive in the sea, remember about the tide" too good to be true? No wonder they looked for credit cards.
I'm just glad I cant drive is all I can say,otherwise things probably would have taken a turn for the worse.
We bounce along the track, literally, finding out about each other in such cosy quarters, listening to some tunes and trying in vain to find out which way is best to sit without doing damage to yourself, just waiting for the sand. We had our itinerary in hand, there was no stopping us. Indian head here we come. A quick pit stop at the Maheno wreck, including nearly being destroyed by all the Japanese on their tour buses and we've driven the full length of the island, all 75 miles, time to go home now. A fellow backpacker quipped up "where's all the sand?" "oh he's a funny one" I thought to myself, I'm afraid to say he wasn't actually joking, which was ever so slightly worrying. Looked like an interesting few days ahead!
The rain didn't ease, but that wasn't going to stop us. We climbed to the top to take in some spectacular views trying not to get too close to the edge to avoid being blown over whilst trying in earnest to hold on to hats which were past mid take off. All in a days work. "DINGO" was roared. About 20metres away was a real live,not behind a cage in a zoo dingo scanning the area and moving steadily closer. I'd seen it, it could leave now. In fairness it was well used to humans, people got up close and personal, patting it's head.
We made a few stops before setting up camp, notably the Red Canyon, before our camping spot beside Eli creek. The other groups followed suit, we were the leaders of the pack and we set up shelter between the 4x4s with a tarpaulin, pretty niftily with my input if I do say so myself. We tried to hid the tents from the wind. Here we were home sweet home.. Dinner was cooked by our chef, prep was done by yours truly and a hearty meal of steak and good old spuds was had, albeit a little slower than anticipated and without fried onions to someones dismay. Sand is a great appetiser.
The fun began. Cans were cracked open, music was blared, goon was swallowed, new friendships were made. We were safe from the rain in our shelter who cared about the roving dingoes, toilet breaks were an adventure. Then bed time came and surprise surprise our lovely sheltered tent had been very cunningly pinched. Sleeping bags in tow we found a new one and rested our weary heads. Alas I didn't have a trusty goon bag pillow, I had to suffer on with the ground. It's safe to say not much sleep was had that night. (I'm talking about because of the rain.) A puddle began to form, I shuffled away from the edge, the wind howled, the rain beater blew off. The puddle became a lake. It was like standing in the rain except there we were in our pj's exposed to the elements with only a sleeping bag as shelter. We made a dash for the truck and it looked like we weren't the only ones who'd been hung out to dry. Slowly the trucks began filling up with wet weary worse for wear backpackers. Our neighbours made a quick exit. We all snuggled up in the 4x4s as dingoes prowled around the drinks eskies, who knew they had such a thirst. Last nights "d-floor" was now a swamp. Spirits dampened (except for those few who how shall we say were lucky last night....and didn't have a flooded tent!) We hit the road, well okay the sand, and didn't look back. We had tide restrictions, so it was now or well ages later. Now was the decision all round, time to go home. But when push came to shove we couldn't leave without seeing lake Mc Kenzie. It was well worth it. The other groups went ahead, we dared to be different. White sand, crystal clear warm bluey green water, not a soul in sight. It even stopped raining. Bliss. Here I was deemed "uncool" by a groupie because I wasn't willing to go hell for leather and go swimming properly instead of wading, "where am I kindergarten?" I thought.
Refreshed and beaming happily to ourselves for being so clever and staying we headed to central park for a feast, well what else would we do with all that food. We found out it had been closed due to 90km/hr winds last night,that was reassuring to hear.
Here we found a new friend, backpackers tend to be good at picking up stragglers. He came out to do a solo trek around the island, mad, I think so. Cutting our losses we headed home, back for a much deserved hot shower at the hostel.
It may have been wet (whats that to an Irish person) slightly different to all the postcard pictures, but it was definitely unforgettable.
No comments:
Post a Comment