Fraser Island 07/05/2012 - 2 Days, 1 Night - Part 1

I wish I was a morning person. By that I mean, I wish my body and mind could function normally during the early hours of the day. At home, I can walk around undisturbed as it’s only me and my parents. Travelling, on the other hand, is not the greatest of circumstances when it comes to peace. I always find that people start being friendly and chatty to me just as I’ve woken up. It’s the worst time of the day for me and it’s a moment where I really don’t want to talk to anyone. But then again, it might be the only level of interaction I have for the day. Travelling with Mel and Steff has meant that I can ease off the talk in the morning as there’ll be plenty of that during the day. It’s something I have taken for granted and am strangely thankful for!

Unfortunately I had to let go of this on the morning of our trip to Fraser Island. It’s the first of three trips we booked through a travel agency. I had to wake up earlier than the others as I needed to get something that was buried in the car. I overestimated how long it would take me to do this and lost out on an extra half an hour’s sleep.

The three of us grabbed our bags that we packed the previous night and trudged to the front of the hostel. I forgot how cold it is that early in the morning and the bitterness snapped me awake slightly.

We saw a massive tank of a truck at the front of the hostel and thought it was our tour. A tall tanned older gentleman stepped down and asked for our names. He had such a deep German accent that I found it difficult keeping a straight face. I wanted him to utter the famous words – “Come with me if you want to live.” Shameful I know. I had to get some comedy out of the morning.

Luckily for him, he was only picking up people for the day trip. We had another 10 minutes or so for our truck to arrive so we crossed the road and stood in silence.

Soon enough our truck arrived and a bouncy guide stepped out and asked us our names. He made a joke, saying to Steffan – “So, you must be Danielle then.” It didn’t click straight away to him that it was a joke and we all screwed our faces up with tiredness.

We boarded the bus and joined another couple. Several others were picked up along the way until there were 10 of us in total. The group was made up of one Canadian couple, one couple from New Zealand, two Germans (I think!), one Brit and us. As it was such a small group, we were able to stretch out and spread our crap. It made the journey a lot more relaxing.

Our tour guide, Drew, asked how we all were over the microphone to which a feeble murmuring that merged into a communal grunt transpired back to him. I’m glad he was the only morning person on the bus as it meant that we could travel in silence.

Drew fired facts and information about the area and our itinerary for the day then put some music on for the rest of the journey. Our first stop was Tin Can Bay.

This was just a quick pit stop to feed the dolphins. There are one or two friendly dolphins that visit the bay every day.

Er...yum!

By this point, everyone was pretty laid back and outstretched on their seats. Drew piped up that we best put our seat belts on as it’s going to be a bumpy ride. We laughed cockily until he said that some people bounce up to a metre off their seat. I didn’t fancy getting brain damage so followed orders.

He wasn’t lying! It was a very bumpy ride throughout the trip. For some reason, Mel was getting the brunt of it at the back and I couldn’t help but laugh as she flew about like a rag doll. The sound effects were hilarious too!

All it took was a short ferry ride from Rainbow Beach to Fraser Island. Time was flowing by at a nice pace and I wasn’t falling asleep which was good. I'd hate to have shelled out a couple of hundred dollars for a lie in.

It was at on this ferry where we first met fellow tourists. There were numerous jeeps emblazoned with the words Tag-Along-Tour. It looked like hell. A pack of sweaty travellers tumbled out of the back of one jeep and I did not envy them one bit. Looking around, it seemed like our tour was the Big Daddy of them all. The truck, aptly named Xena, dwarfed everything else on the ferry. It felt awesome to finally be indulging in some form of luxury for once.

We stopped off at few points along the coast of Fraser Island. In doing so, I felt like a proper tourist. It was very much a drive, stop, point, take photos, drive, stop…etc. It was interesting though.

Tea-coloured waters.

Me and the pippie I dug up. I think it likes me.

Eli Creek: The current is strong enough to carry you down but I decided to take my towel for some reason so I just waded through. It was still a nice little wander.

The day was broken up nicely with morning tea and cake but by lunch time we were all very hungry. A nice chicken sandwich somewhat satiated me but I knew that a big dinner was coming so I was happy.

Once lunch was out of the way, we all tackled a semi-steep climb to the view point at Indian Head. Whilst sitting down at lunch, I didn’t notice any sort of view really. We were sat on rocks looking out to the sea which was pretty standard stuff. It was only as I climbed further up that I realised how spectacular the view was.

Almost there...

Wow.

The bright neon-esque colour of the sea complimented the rugged dark orange and brown territory. I felt like I was in an Andy Warhol painting it was that bright.

Mel's photo captures the colour a lot better.

We spent quite a while there taking photos and relaxing by the edge. A cooling breeze brushed against my face and my whole body heaved with gratitude. It was one of only a few moments in Australia that I’ve had where I’ve been truly content. It makes a change from being my stresshead self.

It was time to head back to the accommodation. We naturally made a few stops on the way back.

Sand cliffs.

Cheeky Kiwi!

Maheno shipwreck.

On the last toilet stop before our accommodation, we visited a small food store. As it was the only one around for miles, it was quite pricey. I decided to skip on treats, including alcohol, as I wasn't really in the mood.

Pinned up on one of the fridges was a photograph of a surfer who was being tailed by a massive shark. It was a haunting photo and added to my increasing fear of Aussie oceans. The guy managed to swim back to the shore unharmed but it’s not the point!

Our place of residence for the night was located in Happy Valley. I hoped that wasn’t an ironic name tag. My qualms were not eased by Drew’s warning about the dingoes in the area. The outside area surrounding our accommodation is covered with electric traps. We were told to use the footpath and not the driveway as we’d be electrocuted! I’d rather stay in than risk crossing a dingo or an electric minefield! I’m glad I wasn’t one of the many campers on the beach that night.

Drew pulled up to the apartments and called out the room allocations. I was put with Mel and Steff along with another girl who we all spoke to intermittently throughout the day. There were two couples who were friendly enough but stuck to their partners and two other girls who were quite quiet so we were happy with the selection.

Everyone was eager to see their rooms so we practically sprinted out the truck and across to our apartment.

Our jaws dropped. Flipping heckers. Although it was a clean-cut standard apartment, to us it was like something out of Cribs. It was like a house and it’s an environment neither of us had experienced for a very long time.