Fogged in at the Mont

Extremely good as we are at sleeping in, today we excelled ourselves. Whilst the apartment is brilliantly located in the centre of town, our street is exceptionally quiet and as such we didn't emerge into the grey metropolis until just before midday. Fully prepared for a big day on foot the first agenda was to head uphill... and then more uphill...... ever on towards the views known as Mont Royal which overlooks Montreal (suspected connection there... whatever).

As we tolled up towards the peak we could see a thick fog pouring over the hill. By the time we got to the top it had almost obscured the entire view with just a snippet of distance viewable to west. By the time we sat down in the impressive chalet for 1/2 hour waiting for it to clear it became so thick that it was almost impossible to to see the trees at the end of the path. It was interesting that the roar of the city streets was still clearly audible though. And so taking it on good faith that the views are impressive (on a clear day) we trolled back down the 435 steps, the slippery paths and the soggy dead leaf covered grounds back into town. All of this "mystical" landscape should be covered in snow (get used to this whinge over the next few blogs - there are a lot more pending) however all we got was a cold, foggy, soggy experience. On the bright side we did get some classic fog photo's and saw a squirrel.

The treck back through greytown led us to the Marie Reine Du Monde cathederal - which was very granduos (and out of the wind). Many words could be used to describe this building. First to mind is "Money has been spent here". Then heading off to the old quarter a slight detour showed us some slummy areas before we stopped in a café for a releaving caffine hit. Emerging into rain (which persisted for the rest of the day) we finally made it to the Notre Dame - modelled on the one in Paris (sort of) it is very touristy and certainly worth a look. Pleased that we could compare the two churches in one day as the first was serious - this was almost.... glistzy. Very photogenic though.

Giving thanks during communal drinks at a local micro brewery afterwards we reflected on the days undertakings and all agreed that even though the weather is not to plan - the town is looking pretty cool due to all their lighting efforts. And so at 5pm we trolled back in the dark, drizzled laden streets snapping photos of all the Christmas lights on the way to our apartment. Where we had a takeaway dinner (thanks to our tour guide and the internet) and a quiet evening in. Spent mostly planning our next adventures...

Moving onto Montreal

Throwing the curtains wide the windows of the hotel room revealed a snow covered car park with a frozen swimming pool beyond. No one swimming curiously enough. The sun was trying to make a serious impression down south and failing in making an effort to warm things up. Feeling refreshed from sleeping in a comfortable bed with no interputions for a change we had our complimentary breakfast in the motel and headed back into Lennoxville - home to Bishops Uni.

Revisiting the cafe' (sans students) and the supermarket (sans students) we walked back to the car through the town (sans students) which was parked at McDonald's (sans students). Driving away from it all we went past lots of student accommodations which (go figure) were sans students. So whilst we saw the place we certainly did not get the vibe that the place had a month ago. Those memories will have to remain within our student herself. Heading back to Montreal the temp started to climb into the positives and the rain started to come down. Soon all vestiges of a mystical kingdom were washed away and the landscape along the highway looked like a wet, cold drab day driving from Geelong to Melbourne. By the time we delved into the concrete jungle that is Montreal it was trying to snow again - however that didn't last long until it all just turned into a continuous cold drizzle for the rest of the day.

Unperturbed though we found our luxurious digs and went to explore the shopping extravaganza that lies hidden below street level. Literally a rabbit warren. Full of rabbits. Honestly, you've got not idea. There are swarms of them down there. They fill every corridor, they eat everything on offer, they crowd through the checkouts. It's like a crazed swam of ants running around haphazardly after a dead log has dislodged from the tree above and fallen on their nest. Well maybe not quite that frenetic but close. Couriously we discovered that there are as many people roaming the streets above the ground as below. After bidding a sad farewell to and ditching our wheels we went to dinner at local Turkish restaurant. Recommended by the internet (which, by the way, has been our guide and source of knowledge in many situations so far on this trip... yay for the internet and yay for free WiFi!).

On to Sherbrooke

Blocking out the infernal light coming through the bars above the door with a blanket was obviously never going to stop noise. Last nights ghosts came in sometime after midnight and seemed oblivious to the fact that there were inmates trying to sleep through their loud inane conversations echoing throughout the cell block. As it transpires "Hey SHUT UP" seems to translate well in any dialogue. They should have tried that in Poltergeist (may have saved the house). Upon receiving a pardon from the governess at reception we finally shook off the shackles of the old gaol, had a quick coffee in the heart of the old city and bid farewell to Ottawa town and all their....totems.

It was a cold day. With a light snow lining the roads it was -3 to start with. As we flew along the highways the sun came out highlighting the sometimes white fields and leafless forests. Skirting Montreal for the moment we headed on to Sherbrooke. Slowly the flat landscape changed to hills and then reasonably interesting mountain scapes. Most of them have ski runs on them - even small nearby hills. Interesting that the locals have no need to drive far to go skiing in winter.

On the way it got to -6 outside with a fair amount of snow lying around. Arriving at Bishops University we found an extremely picturesque setting - extensive olde worlde buildings and grounds all delightfully covered in a light frosting of snow, serene with not a student in sight. An ex-one (Louisa) showed us around. It was a fascinatsing insight into her world over the last 4 months.

Heading off in the dark we wound our way through the extensive streets of Sherbrooke to our digs for the night. After checking in we went of to Samurai Sushi for an extensive feast of quality fresh products wrapped rice. Yep - the sushi here has rice on the outside - not seaweed. It's the little things that make the difference between cultures. Oh yeah - and they all speak a strange language. Weird.

Signs of snow

The early morning sun bounced of the white exercise yard and beamed through the bars in windows, lighting the south corridor of the penitentiary in such a way that made it almost angelic instead of the demonic place it is renowned to be.

Another night incarcerated was again disturbed by ghosts of the past and present (it's hard to tell the difference without proper scientific equipment). Eventually arising from disturbed slumber we were faced with the outside world covered in a light covering of powder snow. By the end of the cold (seriously so) day some of it was still lying around. It was nice to see the early morning sun reflecting off it though. Gruel for breakfast again and we then did the official tour of our residence. Needless to say all our suspicions were true:- Incarceration, cruelty, torture, santioned murder (all often unwarranted) went on here. The spirits ain't happy. We saw and heard the gruesome details - highlighted by the gallows with the trapdoors below purposely a key design in the building structure. Now we are really looking forward to tonights sleep.

Released into the exercise yard known as Ottawa City the four of us headed into the cold biting wind, catching a late' and hot choc on the way to the Museum of History. Cool building with seriously big totem poles. These should not and cannot be denigrated. If you are into totem poles - this is the place to visit. They have built the biggest, most awsomeness and possibly most expensive building to house them in. So whatever one must do in Ottawa (apart from not spitting on the sidewalks) is respect totem poles. Well that's what we figured anyway. They also have an IMax at which we watched a show on the Vikings which was (seriously) good. In the fading light (4:00 pm) we headed back across a really cold, noisy, steel bridge to correct yesterdays retail mistakes and have pre-dinner drinks at the Irish pub before dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant.

This was a fabulous cultural experience as well as good value (ie cheap). The staff were genuinely bored, obviously a family run (and paternally) controlled affair with half the early patrons being relatives. The food was great, however it did leave the impression that (like Sydney) it would be great place to visit but not desirable to live there long term. And so, a short stroll home in the dark cold wind through the ever increasingly easy to identify druggies, drunkards and homeless to the sanctuary that doubles as a haunted house we look forward to another restless nights sleep.

Skating on no ice

How could we do this? you may well ask.. Answer .. We didn't. No snow = no ice - for us - so we did the next best thing and watched the professionals at play. More on that later. We started off the day by reminiscing prisoner horror stories of poor sleep: interrupted by noisy inmates, lights on all night, guards strolling the corridors and torturous machines humming their repetitive cycles. The amount of effort they have gone to recreate the original purpose of this place is extraordinary. Note to self...next time read the fine print before forking out the hard earned. After breaking fast on the mandatory gruel we banded together, overcame the guards at reception and burst out onto the street revelling in our freedom... only to go straight back in and put some thermals on because its starting to get really cold.

Off to Parliament to do a tour of the houses. This was well worth the money (ie free) and the effort. Exeptional security measures (due to last years incident), grandios architecture and enthralling dialog. Plus a bonus trip to the top of the tower for the best views in town.

We then wandered down and had subtle poke around the inside of the Notre' Dame and tried to sneak into the national gallery for free (well you can in our home town...). Retail therapy for some and then hopping on the bus we headed of to a local ice hockey game. Ottawa vs. Petersburg. We sided with the locals and we won (5/4) yeah..alright!. We also won the inevitable biffos.

Enlightened to local culture (and the sport) we bussed it back to town amid snow flurries. The forecast is for cold but no snow, so whilst we will lament about spending thousands to have a white Christmas...and failing, folks at home struggle under a 42 degree heat wave. Seems like it warming up everywhere.

Put in the pen

Honestly Officer - everyone was going at this speed.... The punishment for this horrendous crime is to be locked up in the local jail for 3 nights (You do get day leave though...). And so here we are. Doing time for simply doing what the locals do. Maybe it's just a way to raise revenue at the old gaol by sucking the tourists into their wiley traps.

Whatever the cause, we are now entrenched in the local jailhouse for 3 nights surrounded by the ghosts of past in small cells with locked doors and inmates from all over the world. To get here we backtracked yesterday's early stroll to the same hire car company and got bigger car (to hold all the luggage), drove back to the burrow to collect everyone and the bags and then spent 5 1/2 hours under cloudy skies, some showers and some really heavy rain(no sign of snow) driving the wide open highways to Ottawa. After being institutionalised we went out for dinner at an "authentic" Irish Pub (hmmmmm Guniess!) for dinner and then strolled up to watch the lights dance on the Parliament house building.

Much better than white nights in Melbourne. Back in the pen for the night we plotted our escape. Could take some time as these walls are thick and the guards look like...backpackers.

The power of the falls

Having done our research we decided the best transport option for the day was to hire car. And so we set off to the obscurely located hire depot some 2 kilometres from our hobbit hole mid morning, treaking through a seedy part of town (cigar shops and massage parlors) to get there. After the usual signing away of our lives we soon found ourselves weaving in and out of the lanes on the wrong side of the road in order to get to freeway. Discovering that not only will the locals refuse to drive to the left we also found out they have poorly signed turnpikes. So after a couple of annoying diversions through back streets, some clever navigational skills from our (previously mentioned) guide we finally got pointed in the correct direction for Niagra. The locals don't seem to care so much about speed limits so join them we did. Wide roads, thousands of vechiles, grey dull skies, steam pouring out of factories and lakes as big as oceans sum up the journey.

Upon arrival at the falls town we were absolutely awe struck at the tacky commercialism/theme park ambiance of the place. Made even weirder by the lack of people. It's winter and mid week so there are places like the Haunted House (every day is Halloween... apparently) Ripley's believe it or not and the Guinness world record museum. What more could anyone possibly ask more for when all you started out wanting was a waterfall? The falls themselves are truly awesome. It was raining nearby. Just there. This is due to the mist the falls throw up from the sheer power of a million litres per second being thrown down 39 stories of sheer cliff. The sound of the thundering resonates through everything nearby. We took the plunge and went down in the tunnels underneath. This is where the power is truley experienced. Getting drenched in the mist and spray and splashes and rain we had a thoroughly enjoyable time snapping away with every device we held.

The 3hr drive back to town was uneventful apart from traffic congestion but there was no stress as we were in no particular hurry. Arriving in the dark at filling up for 95c p/l ( and wondering how this " world parity" thing works in Aus) We headed off to China town for dinner and then home via the skate park to grab more snaps.

Time in Toronto

Todays tour of Toronto Town took us to tons of terrific tourist traps. Talk about being teed up to tread the terrances of the transport tunnels which traverse the town. In other words - we walked the streets for many hours. After a few kilometrs our tour guide (Louisa) took us to the centre square Where the pool is is so cold they ice skate on it.

It'd unseasonably warm here at the moment. 6 degrees C max, with a cold biting winds coming off the artic tundra. And its about to get colder apparently. Finding some relief in a shopping mall we headed off to the old distilery area. Unfortunately no stils (or outcomes) were found. Just lots of corny stalls selling standard Canadian tourist items dressed up in Christmas themes. Still, the fur trees were covered in lights and tinsel and the choirs belting out carols was enough to put everyone in the sprit of the holiday season. And who'da thunk that Santa would actually have a Canadian accent? All this ambience was shattered one block away as we trolled off to the harbour by the reality of cold concrte landscapes of multileveled freeways and serious biting winds. The ferry to the island was well worth the trip - just to get a good view of the city. We didn't actually land on the island - apparently there is nothing of interest in the winter months. So we stayed on board and caught the return journey with all the tradies heading home for the day.

A journey on the underground street car system saw us back to base before heading out to dinner with Tim & Joy. It was a fine dining experience with lobster, calamri and steak gracing our plates. And so suffering from jet lag, exhaustion and lowered balances we headed home and crawled off to bed.

Canada - Getting There

35 hours on the go. 3 cars. 3 planes. 1 train. 8 conveyers Well over 20 queues and more than half the planet circumvented in kilometers. Luckily we are not stressed travellers (so when did that happen?) as the day started off with a late pickup for the airport and finished with chaos at the end. So whilst Kez had forgotten about us she still delivered in a timely fashion. The Qantas hop over the pacific was a long yet 14 restful hours.

The transit through LAX was an army like precision drill as we were masterfully guided through the rabbit warren of that complex. Sunrise over LA and sunset over NYC from the air provided perfect bookends for the next 6 hour jaunt, with chapters of deserts and vast swaths of the middle America farmlands covered in snow in between. We were due for an easy 4 hour stopover at JFK airport in NY however due to the vagrancies of the weather, air traffic controllers and cheap airlines some one decided to cancel our next flight, potentially leaving we three stranded in the States and Louisa stranded in Canada. Patience and calm. breath deeply and don't sweat (after a full day of traveling that's the worst thing to do....). With some magic from a counter guru we swapped airlines, swapped airports via an Jamerican taxi driver ( hey the roads work here!) only to find our replacement flight was running 4hours late. Stay calm.. etc. etc. A cheap meal at the airport terminal cost us $150 au. Hmmmm might have to find a supermarket.... and so we headed low over man lit terrain to Canada. 90 minutes later were a reunited foursome hurtling down the freeways at 140 km per hour. And here we are, ensconsed in our warm basement abode looking forward to tomorrow's adventures.

Back to Gloomy Melbourne

As all good things come to end, so does this little adventure.

Another perfect weather day, brilliant colours, glorious vistas and our resident sea hawks hovering outside the windows greeted us upon awakening. A quick clean up and we headed back to the beach bar for a final dose of that fabulous coffee before the final pack and last soaking in of the views before hoping into our chauffeured transport back to the (SC) airport. A very uneventful flight ensued - thinking about that's exactly what you'd want all flights to be. The home town looked resplendent in its grey cloudy cloak. The traffic was stop/ start (so build the tunnel!), the shock jocks whiney and the supermarkets overly priced...yay home.

At least it is good to be home to a welcome hug and happy smiles.

To Market To Market

Finally realised the way to see the sunrise is to go to bed early.

The ever persistent sea winds abated overnight to let the sun rise over calm seas. Wlist the waves continue their relentless barrage on the rocks below the rest of the area went through a phase shift. Windsurfers gave way to paddle boards and swarms of swimmers descended upon the coast. Our mission for the day was to hit the weekly street market, which we did with enthusiasm (for one) and resignation (for the other). At least they had good bands and good coffee to help while away the time.

Loaded with colourful expressions and considerably less financially endowed we headed back to the beach for yet more coffee whilst watching the waves pummel the would be surfers. as the day progressed the surf got bigger and bigger. Not wanting to miss out we donned our togs and headed out between the flags of kings beach for our own dumping. Apart from one misadventure with the rip it was all good fun.

Pity some waves were uncatchable due to the sardine nature of the milling throngs - being hit by pounding waves is one thing, being hammered by out of control body surfers does tend to put a downer on the day at the beach.

We cooled down in the pool at the abode and then wasted the afternoon entirely by taking a long siesta. Keeping with the theme it was paella for dinner at our now favorite haunt. Gellati for afters and then a movie in to finnish off the day.

A long walk into Golden Serenity

Awaking to the sight of our local reptars hovering outside our windows - keeping a keen eye on the swirling waters below we soaked back the ambiance of the bright morning daylight washing over the east coast and into the vast continent beyond our vision. A fabulous coffee at the local beach side cafe' charged the minds and legs for our long trek southwards.

Pausing to admire our abode from the rocks along the shoreline whilst dodging rock hopping cyclists we headed along the coastal trail, past the trendy eateries, caravan parks and manicured foreshore gardens towards Golden Beach. Aptly named in the same mindset that turned Shark Bay into Safety Beach. eg. False marketing.

There is no gold. Indeed there is no beach. What there is is a never ending sprawl of holiday homes, retirement houses and resorts selling "absolute water frontage". Yes they are next to the water. The beach is equivalent to a kindergarten sand pit. Most likely imported from the same source. The village of Golden Beach basks in the shadows of the looming resorts and has a certain buzz of excitement that is somewhat akin to a cemetery. Maybe its the off season.... Anyway, the weather was nice and warm and we had a pleasant stroll all whilst racking up step counts on the pedometer. Toasties for lunch back in our abode whilst watching the never ending spectacle of interesting things happening just outside our windows was apt reward for our labours. It was so captivating the afternoon was spent watching a video which suffered only the occassional distractions such as helicopters flying past (yesterday it was hornets).

And so, as the sun slowly faded into the west we consumed our free bottle of bubbly and then dragged ourselves down the the same cafe' for dinner. Which was delightful. The closeness of the shipping channel was highlighted yet again by the sight of a huge passenger cruiser just off shore. Very impressive.They were looking at us, we were looking at them. And then the moment passed.

Walking around Perfectville

We awoke with the sunrise streaming over the bed creating louder sensory input than the constant roar of the ocean. Quite pleasant really. Peering over toenails we could see the Glasshouse Mountains looming over the condos across the waterways. Waking up to 270 degrees views is rather enthralling. Breaking fast on the aforementioned essentials we were soon on our way treaking northwards along the coast hugging walkway.

It's all so pretty here. The ocean pounds relentlessly against the rocks and beaches whilst meters inland the sculptured gardens create a naturistic barrier before the never ending swarm of multi-story buildings define the skyline.Lots of architectural expression makes one jealous of the dollars expended here over the years. The pathway is lined with a plethora of plaques of past armed forces personnel, both recently and historically lost to us. The RSL has obviously been very active here and good on them. Lest we forget. You won't if you do this walk.

Our tiring legs took us up to the bluff that provided a view over Dickies beach and the hills of Noosa heads in the distance. Here we rested and watched the surfers plying their wares. The trek back was uneventful apart from a run in with a large lizzard whilst collecting leaves I.L.O. bandaids for blistering feet. Laid back latte's proceeded a dip in the pounding waves of Kings beach. Good fun. A wander into town saw some purchases of window cleaning gear which was subsequently used and then disappointingly applied as a rain storm can through and mucked it all up again. oh well - we tried.

The waterways below were swarming with kites and surfers. We watched one get into serious trouble in the waves. Eventually he was rescued by a collegue açnd sailed back. Dinner at the local SLSC was noisy and crowed yet fun. The stroll home along the boardwalk a nice way to end a great day.

On to SCQ

And now to Sunshine Coast Queensland.An easy drive to the airport had us contemplating the pros of cancelling the new tunnel. Leaving the airport from the the bottom gate we were squirted into the air and shot up to the warm weather in a comfortable trip as we yet again deployed the "take over the empty seats as soon as possible" tactic. A single phone call ensured a cheap and personalised carriage to our abode in Caloundra. After letting ourselves in and scaring the beegeebees out of the the cleaner we dropped our bags and headed into town for a trendy burger at a trendy café on the trendy esplanade that hugs the water front of the picturesque inlet which has Bribie Island defining its other bank. Caloundra really buzzes on balmy Thursday afternoon (not). After a walking circuit of thr town to get our bearings and essential supplies we returned to the apartment to find the apologetic cleaner still doing her stuff.

Our residence is so close to the rolling waves that the sound thunders in and the warm sea breezes wash through windows cleansing the soul and whisking away the stresses of metropolis. Possibly the best location amongst thousands of options in the area. We've done quite well. Sunset from the balcony looking over the boardwalk was spectacular.

Final day up North

Our last morning in Paradise saw us cramming the inevitable chaos that was our lives for a week into a series of suitcases, backpacks and handbags which then miraculously became luggage. Which we then lugged down to the vehicle and temporary storage at reception, checked out and headed for the hills. Literally. Having most of the day to kill it was time to see a different aspect of TNQ.

Heading in the direction of Broome (didn't quite make it that far) the Savannah Hwy winds its way up to Kuranda which is so chic in its touristy ambience we skedaddled out of there and headed off through the rapidly more arid landscape (complete with ant hills) to Mareeba - stopping for ice cream and spiders along the way. After admiring their drive through bakery we made a quick stop at their market. Unfortunately it was pack up time and being short of available minutes ourselves we headed on down to Atherton to grab a bite of lunch. You could write songs about this place. It was Saturday afternoon, the boys were just driving around wasting time and the flame trees were in full bloom setting fire to the town. Couldn't be more clique'd Aussie if you tried. And so leaving the tables full of old friends swapping yarns we headed east again and wound our way off the tablelands, through green fields, thick rainforests and down one of the funnest winding roads ever made. Well fun for the rally driver - not so much for the passengers being thrown around by the copious twists and bends in the road. Eventually it straightened out, tyres stopped squealing and we casually cruised back up the coast to Cairns. Temp in suburbs 38c. It just seems to get hotter and hotter. Back to collect our bags and then off to the airport for the inevitable waiting, queueing, sitting, waiting, queueing, waiting, sitting, queueing etc. that is travel by air these days.

We bade trinity beach farewell from 3000 ft as rain finally washed over it and then chased the setting sun down south westwards during the uneventful flight. The airport created one of the biggest shocks of the year. Our luggage was on the carousel before we got there! In disbelief we cruised back through the balmy Melbourne evening (27c) to quiet Surrey Hills where the constant roar of the ocean is replaced by the distant roar of traffic.

Life as locals

With the threat of the weather taking a turn for the worse (it didn't) we had another quiet down day which translates to no major organised tour expenses. Another early stroll down the beach front

for a coffee and chat underneath the lush tropical vegetation watching the world of Trinity Beach going through it's morning ritual: fit people doing their thing, council workers pretending to be effective and the local dericts behaving as if to script. All fascinating stuff. Two of us then repeated the exploration of the headland with the explicit intent of collecting wild fresh mangoes (success). We also tried for bananas and coconuts but to no avail. There are locals living in humpy's hidden in obscure places who are most likely cleaning up all the edible food well before we came through. The headland offers some fabulous views which we spotted a sea eagle also enjoying. He was brilliantly perched on his tree stump with commanding views of the entire domain.

Leaving the scatteted debris of party animals behind us we watched some indigenous folk wading through the water spear fishing - exactly where the signs advising of crocs and stingers reside. so what goes on? Do these supposedly dangerous critters only attack tourists? ....Maybe it's only tourists that have access to lawyers if (on the remote chance) something goes wrong.... Following the sound advice from yesterday's captain we jumped into the blue rocket and headed off up to the swimming hole favoured by the locals and not on the tourist lists. And it was great. In comparison, Mossman sucks - this place rocks.

With fresh, crystal clear water cascading over a series of falls through an incredibly narrow, cliff hugging rain forest canyon we trecked up the easy pathway to the pool beneath the main falls to spend a lazy hour or so cooling off in the overall tropical ambience. This is the stuff they make ads out of. It was also at the complete contradiction to the signs telling us to do otherwise. Apart from the freshwater crays being mistaken for underwater scorpians all was calm and peaceful... An easy drive back to the gated compound was followed by a quick game of down ball on the apartment veranda (suspect this had not been done before - a first for us - yay!) and then dripping we headed next door for another very pleasant dinner on the bistro balcony watching the setting sun light up the (try hard) storm clouds over the ocean.

Raging Rapids

Another calm day across the coral sea as FNQ bakes in the heat of the delayed monsoon. We awoke early (for us) - due to the plentiful rest the proceeding day - and slowly got ready for our big downstream adventure.

An early morning late' on the beachfront preceded a trip into Cairns proper for a photo recovery mission and a stroll and minor shop in the Central. Whilst busy, the place just seems so much more calm and relaxed than in chaotic Melbourne. It's easy to see why people choose to live here, apart from of course: the oppressive heat, the personal dangers in the water, the catastrophic cyclones and being at the forefront of the devastation caused by global warming....at least the traffic flows in peak hour. The midday sun beat down as the sea breeze disappeared whilst we struggled down the 200 meters to our bus pickup. It was sitting idling at the public bus stop running with it's welcoming air-conditioning as we slithered up the burning concrete and into it's cool interior. After paying the exorbitant fares and filling out the mandatory non disclamature forms we headed up the Barwon river for a series of white water high jinx. Raging Thunder is a well run operation with a lot of rubber boats, a plethora of paddles and helmets, a lot of fit/young guides (similar to the snorkeling cruises - maybe only the standout beautiful people get jobs in tourism up here?...) and about 80 paying participants having the time of their lives.

Our jaunt down the river was shared by 3 Bostonian girls who tried valiantly to stay dry and yet failed miserably. We Aussies on the other hand jumped in and got drenched at every opportunity. Louisa actually took the role one step beyond what was required at one stage and got flung off. Unable to utilise the life rope thrown to her she ended up having to walk the 20 meters or so to the next calm patch before re-joining the crew. Thanks to the guidance of our captain Ryan (maybe he pushed her?) We were probably the most skillful team on the river that day. At least the go-pro was on the correct setting this time. And so armed with memories in our minds and in our backpacks we headed back to HQ for debrief and cocktails. Dinner on the strip was pretty funny due to the drunk waiter who confessed and then tried to cover up. Given adequate direction it all worked out well. Trinity beach is a very relaxing place to be this time of year.

A Relaxing day

Today was downtime. No big trips. No high jinx. No exciting adventures. No interesting stories. You have been warned.... Finally managed to view the sunrise - albeit by capturing it on time lapse video and watching it on the TV in the middle of day, but what the heck.... This way we got sleep-in as well :) Our accommodation looms over the end of the beach road which has a public BBQ and shelter. A very popular spot which due to the prevailing winds we hear everything the inhabitants say, smell every morsel of food that they cook and breath every tobacco they choose to smoke. So last night we drifted off to sleep with the sounds of their youth revelries and woke up to the "joy" of their awakening. Combined with the dulcet tones of local council workers tidying up the steep bank below the pool with whipper snippers and blowers it was an interesting concophany of alarm clocks.

The monsoon is still holding off. Lucky us, poor locals, who really do need the rain. In another perfectly calm day we went for a stroll over the headland which turned into an adventurous trek. 2 meters inland the breeze disappears and the sweat starts to flow. Following a series of rough storm water dug out tracks we found some great vistas, picked some fresh mangos, discovered a remote tropical beach and eventually got lost in a mangrove swamp. Not bad for all of 10mins away from the compound. After a refreshing iced coffee back in civilisation the rest of the day was spent lounging around the pool and/or the apartment to the continuing sounds of portable 2-stroke engines. They've done a great job of stripping away all the vegetation just in time for the rains to wash away the exposed soil. Dinner in and then late swim in the pool ended the day.

Picture Perfect on the reef

Up early (although still not early enough to catch the sunrise) we joined the pre-peak hour traffic and headed to the organized chaos of the Cairns jetties. Here we joined the swarm of tourists heading out for their slice of the great barrier reef. The Reef Experience is exactly that. Well there maybe more to the 2400 km than the few square meters than we saw but we were pretty happy with what we did. 70 odd passengers from all over, 20 or so staff with the attitude and skills to give 'em their monies worth and we were off... We scored one of the classic calm days which most simply wish for.

Our vessel effortlessly sliced through the silky smooth seas whilst the sun made the fish and the coral below glow with a brilliance that made one require sunglasses underneath the diving masks (well ok then - maybe not that much - but it was pretty good). Our first stop at Saxton reef involved snorkeling.

A significant school of tourist fish slowly drifted out from the rear of the ship, intermingling with the natural inhabitants: multicoloured, multi-species and a variety of corals (hard and soft) and the first of many underwater videos.

Lots of free dives to capture the action up close were performed during the day, only the realise at the end of all the events that the camera was on the wrong setting. Well at least we have old fashioned memories to fall back on.... Next came the highlight. Included in the trip was a free scuba dive for beginners. And so we did. 15 minutes later we had encountered ear aches, anxiety, seriously large parrot fish and an amazing views of the reef down deep. Great fun.

After a fajitas lugnch we roared over to Norman reef (not one mention of the old joke) for more snorkeling. The weather was so perfect we moored on the "wild" side to perform more snorkelling, wasted videoing and sunburning of our backs. The free drinks on the way back to harbour went down extremely well, as did the boat cutting through the millpond still water. The day was nicely rounded off with a poignant serving of fish and chips.