Sometimes in life you meet people who will have a resounding effect on your life. Over the years, these people may come and go, they may stay, they may only make a fleeting appearance. But they will change the way you view the world, the way you grow, and the way you love – yourself, others, and life. During my travels in Australia I met certain people who are still reverberating inside my head sometimes. Some of them showed me how privileged I am to be from a country living in freedom and peace. One girl showed me that, even after being injured, you can be the strongest person in a crowd. One person reminded me that, even if they’re across the world somewhere, sometimes you just need that one person because they understand you. And one person, who stuck with me almost the entire way, showed me that being young means taking chances and daring to live. Having a somewhat serious disposition by nature, and being forced to mature through nurture, letting go and having fun felt alien to me. But thanks to Remo (you’re not reading this anyway, so I don’t feel bad mentioning you by name – or are you, you sly bastard?), I felt brave and tried things I would otherwise never have done. I jumped of jetties and cliffs, snorkeled and dived in the open ocean, and broke both my own and others’ rules. And most importantly, by sticking by my side, I had a companion to share these experiences with. One day we’ll reminisce, and it’ll be so much better to do it together with a botte of rum between us.
But enough of the soppy stuff – I last left you guys as we came back from our adventures on Fraser Island and were headed towards the next. We arrived in Airlie Beach where we checked in at our hostel, and then moved on to check in for our boat. But as we arrived at XPlore, we were told the Ragamuffin would not be sailing due to a too small group size. Devastated, we had to cancel our ideal sailing trip and go hunt for a new one. But, thankfully, this ended up being a blessing. Instead of the Ragamuffin, we booked onto a ship called Anaconda III. At a cheaper price, the trip included an extra night, diving, and it sailed all the way out to the Great Barrier Reef. But it left that night, so in a hurry we packed up and left for the marina. We shared the Anaconda with 18 other backpackers, one senior American lady, and five staff. For three days, Marije, Remo, and I shared a four-bed cabin right on the bow of the ship (forgive me all the wrong terms – no matter how much rum I drink, I will never be a sailor). We set off into the dark night and went to bed after a briefing on safety and a glass of free wine.
The next morning we sailed to the famous Whitehaven beach, considered the most beautiful spot in the Whitsundays. As we anchored, a seemingly infinite white beach stretched out in front of us. A turtle popped up its little head above the surface as we were putting on our diving gear, and within ten minutes we were in the water for a free skills session in scuba gear. After we were all able to lose our regulator and find it again, we spent time on the beach enjoying the beauty of our surroundings. The sand here is so fine, it can be used as a bodyscrub and doesn’t get hot, making it more like a dayspa than a beach.
After we headed away from the beach, we drove (there should really be a different word for this – boats don’t drive!) to our first diving spot. Our instructor Hillary reiterated the importance of clearing your ears when descending, and off we went. But even at 2m, my ears were in agony. No matter how often I tried to clear, the pain increased as I dove deeper, and eventually I had to resurface. Unfortunately, that was the end of my diving experience on the trip as afterwards I could only snorkel. But, even from the surface, the coral and the fish were stunning to look at. Once we anchored again for the night, we played some drinking games with the group before heading to bed again.
The next day was the day I had dreamt of since I was a child: the Great Barrier Reef. As one of the few snorkellers, I was dropped onto the Stepping Stones by our first mate Harry. “Combat roll off the boat, stick to the coral, and swim towards the buoy. Have fun!” I needn’t be told twice. The amount of coral was overwhelming – I was barely 50cm above the most intense display of fish I’d ever seen. Everywhere I looked I saw something colourful, weird-looking, or beautiful. I spent about an 90 minutes in the water, taking in everything and firing my GoPro like there was no tomorrow. Eventually, I reached the boat again and dragged myself out of the water, where I exhaustedly pulled off my wetsuit, flopped down on the deck, and waited for lunch. But as I was trying to look at the photos from my GoPro, I realised it wasn’t working. The SD-card had corrupted and, checking on a laptop, all the files had been damaged. For now it remains broken, but hopefulyl I’ll be able to fix it back in Europe. So with somewhat of a heavy heart, I got ready for our second snorkelling site after lunch.
But that made up for everything. This time, Max (an English lad with an easy smile and friendly disposition) joined me in the water and we made a pledge to find ourselves a shark. The tide was going out, so this time we were even closer on the coral as we navigated between different sections of the reef. Eventually, we found a clearing where I saw a sharp fin disappear around a corner. As we sped up, we saw a beautiful, tiny black-tip reef shark. It swam below us and was a lot faster, but we made speed to catch up with it. Eventually, Max was not far behind it when it suddenly flicked its body around, and swam quickly towards him before disappearing altogether. Completely overdosing on adrenaline, we continued our snorkel and saw fish nurseries hidden between anemones, fish in all colours of the rainbow, and huge black fish lurking underneath our ship. I went back on board completely brimming with enthusiasm, and as we sat down for dinner everyone exchanged stories of what they saw in the water. After a lot of drinking games, we went to bed for our last night on-board, exhausted but happy.
On our final day, we were at Blue Pearl Bay. This tranquil little spot made for an easy snorkel and some more beautiful underwater scenery. After a couple of hours, we set sail back to Airlie Beach. On the way, some of the Whitsunday Islands were burning as a restoration technique for the ecosystem. It looked phenomenal. After a couple of hours we arrived back to shore, where we freshened up in the hostel before going back out to meet the crew and backpackers for drinks. A shot of tequila (thanks Max), quite a bit of rum, and a beer later it ended up being a bit of a messy one, but it was great to say goodbye to some of the people on board.
The next day was our last in Airlie Beach, and we spent it battling hangovers with more rum and tequila. This, I have learnt now, is a completely useless tactic and does not lead to any good. Later that night we (somewhat hungover and filled with regret) walked back to the hostel where we teamed up with an amazing Irish singer for the hostel’s pub quiz. Twenty questions later, and Ireland’s vast knowledge had won us a bottle of champagne. It was a brilliant last night in Airlie Beach, right before our last leg of the trip.
The next day we filled ourselves up on amazing Airlie Beach burgers before getting on our last Greyhound to Cairns. A ten-hour journey, we spent it mainly asleep as drove up the coast to the most northern point of our travels. We arrived in Cairns at six in the morning, among humidity and tired backpackers. Without a reservation, we simply walked towards Gilligan’s, Cairns most infamous hostel. Looking for a nice, quiet place to finish our trip, Gilligan’s was precisely not that. After a couple of hours kip, Roos (Marije’s other Dutch friend had joined us on the Greyhound) and I went for a much needed cup of coffee in a tiny place called Blackbird. The owners are incredibly friendly, and we went back there every day we were in Cairns. The rest of the day was filled exploring Cairns’ harbours, the green esplanade, and the hugely popular lagoon. Cairns is much more quiet than other cities in Australia and has a very relaxed vibe about it. That night we slept through all the noise Gilligan’s threw at us as we caught up on sleep.
The next day was mainly spent relaxing. We spent some time playing cards with Canadian Charles, we walked around the city, and we visited the night markets. Remo and I seperated from the group to go explore on our own and soon found ourselves having dinner at the heavily discounted Asian food market. As the boy is weird, he choose to eat baby squid, whereas I stuck with good ol’ dim sum. We finished the night walking around the city with ice cream, enjoying the views and local wildlife.
The 6th of May marked our last day together as a group. Marije and I were undecided still on where to go next. Roos was flying to Brisbane the next day, and Remo to Sydney. We decided to go to the rainforest village of Kuranda, about an hour outside of Cairns on the border of the Daintree National Park. The village is home to little shops, a lot of food, and some beautiful patches of rainforest. Remo and I ended up chatting to a Dutch woman who married an Aboriginal, and now sold her step-sons art in the village. We bought some souvenirs and headed towards the rainforest trail. For the next two hours, we were spoilt with pristine forests, beautiful rivers, and watching a kingfisher feed. As we drove back to Cairns, I realised that things were about to change quite drastically.
Once we arrived in Cairns, Marije and I went to make a decision. We’d decided that we wanted to go to Bali – but the question was when. Eventually, we asked a guy at the internet cafe to flip a coin for us, and it landed heads up. This meant we would leave the next day, with Roos and Remo. So we booked a one-way ticket to Bali for the next evening, not thinking to much about any consequences that may have. After, Canadian Charles and Mancunian (fine, Scouse) Josh joined us for a BBQ on the public BBQs at the esplanade. Armed with food, rum, and good company, we found somewhere to grill our meat and drink our rum. The food was amazing and the rum flowed too freely, meaning we were all quite merry as we eventually cleaned up our mess and headed back to Gilligan’s. The rest of the night, fuelled by more rum, is somewhat of a blur – it involved hopeless attempts at picking up girls, drunken conversations through bathroom doors, and a long, restless night of sleep.
The next morning a murderous hangover made packing a new form of torture. The knowledge we only had a few hours left as a group was suppressed by a headache the strength of a small bulldozer. A lot of coffee and a greasy breakfast later, we said goodbye to Roos who was the first to go. A few hours later, Remo, Marije, and I took a taxi to the airport. One last time we played Yaniv where Remo was crowned the King of Yaniv (he cheated, I’m sure!). Then it was time to say goodbye to my most valued travel companion. As I’d like to save some of my dignity, I won’t describe the state I was in after the gate closed, but needless to say Marije and I attempted to resolve the situation with rum.
In a tired state we eventually walked to our own gate a few hours later, where we were told one cannot fly into Bali without a return ticket. Too exhausted to argue, we bought a ticket to Singapore on the spot, and got ready to board our plane. A long, sleepless night later we landed in Denpensar. A taxi driver took us to our hostel in Canggu for five times the price we should’ve paid him, but we were now beyond exhausted. We arrived at EchoLand at 3.30am to a receptionist so solidly asleep it took physical shoving to wake him up. We went to bed, and the last I remember is hearing crickets instead of house music.
So now Marije and I are going around Bali together for the indefinite future. We’ve been here a week now, but I’ll save the rest for the next blog. Tune back in to see how we coped with the culture shock, new food, and cheap prices.
Faye Vogely 