The Only Way Is Vegas

Have you ever sat and watched someone struggle to set up the DVD player or fail to find the right drop down menu on the television? If you’re like me, you stir and itch with impatience. Sometimes it’s quicker to just do things yourself. Alone, you can take control and steer yourself in the right direction. Victory or failure, it’s on your terms. When somebody else is in charge you have no choice but to sit and watch as things play out.

On an organised tour it’s not as simple as snatching a remote off your nonplussed counterpart. When things aren’t working out, you’re powerless. It’s not something I ever thought I’d have to think about whilst on a tour. The reason why I booked it is so someone who has traversed America more times than I’ve had cooked dinners can take charge whilst I sit back and relax. Not having to worry about maps and navigation is a huge weight off the mind. Unfortunately, when things go wrong you’re screwed. At least when you’re out there on your own you can be more proactive and usually end up with a funny story to entertain future drinking buddies.

Alas, I still managed to get lost but we’ll get to that soon. There was still a long long long journey before we caught a glimpse of Vegas.

After listening to Pearl Jam's extensive collection among other mixed CDs Ken owned, I took over as resident DJ. Opening up my limited music library was probably a step down but at least the music was different. As usual everyone fell straight asleep anyway so there was no fear of mutiny.

A short while later it was time for our first tourist stop, the delightful Bedrock City. For a few dollars we got to run around like idiots and take silly photos.

Back on the road again, it was time for our second and final stop off at old Route 66. This time the roadside cafe Delgadillos was open. We all ordered milkshakes and each got a dose of zany fun from the server. For instance, I was asked if I wanted a straw...wait for this...you'll crack up...the server passed me a handful of straw. You know, straw, like what horses eat. Tim Vine would be proud.

Coach loads of tourists were flooding the area so we didn't hang about too long. We boarded the bus and headed straight to Vegas.

Entering Las Vegas by day gave our eyes a bit of a rest from the beaming lights and famous neon signs. Instead, we were greeted with giant billboards advertising lawyers who specialise in divorces juxtaposed with chapel invitations. Even if I was insanely drunk, I can't see myself getting married. With that thought in mind, Ken jokingly recommended that we note down the number "just in case". He added that he's had people get married in Vegas during his tour but he's never had a baby in the mix. There would be a reward for the person who shows up with a baby the next day. I think someone's been watching The Hangover too many times.

We seemed to be nearing Las Vegas Boulevard so, the legendary DJ that I was, I sat poised with my finger hovering over the play button. "Bright light city gonna set my soul, gonna set my soul on fire." Yes people, Elvis is in the minibus!

Cut to the tenth time of playing the song and we were done with Elvis. Where the heck are we? Nobody knew. I must be some sort of jinx. I know I get lost all the time but I guess I can lead others into the same fate too. Travelling has helped me learn so much about myself and my own capabilities.

At first Ken hid behind the music and looked in control. As time marched on, we all realised what was happening. I kept picturing the scene from Romy and Michele's High School Reunion (don't judge me. It's a perfect fluffy movie). When they drive off to Tucson? No? Aw come on!

For the first time, Ken looked stressed out. Hurling a few swear words at the road vented some of his frustrations at least. We knew we were in trouble when his fellow tour guide friend rang him and asked where we were. The original plan was to rock up at our hotel, go out for something to eat, get glammed up and board a party bus. The tour guide that called was with his group who we'd be joining later. They travelled south from San Francisco.

We eventually arrived and it was only Ken who seemed to be bothered by this. I was slightly vexed only because I was hungry. Ken rushed in to collect our room keys.

Hearing that I had a room to myself, I tried to hide my elation. We all got ready whilst Ken sorted food. By some miracle, I managed to make myself look presentable in around 10 minutes. I should keep that a guarded secret really as it might be used against me at a later date. Some people just don't understand the process of getting ready to go out. It's meant to take a while, it's all part of the fun.

Moving on...my room seemed to be the hub of the evening's proceedings. My room was massive. I had two double beds, a kitchenette, en suite facilities and a TV. Everyone burst in whilst I was watching Man Vs. Food. I was enjoying that!

Ken continued to beat himself up for delaying our arrival and we sympathised. But carrying around that guilt didn't make him the winner of the 'Sucks To Be You' prize. One of our poor passengers had lost their case. It wasn't in the trailer when we arrived in Las Vegas. To this day, I still don't know what happened to it. Perhaps a crafty tourist poached it at our last stop. The thought of that happening to me sent shivers down my spine. Lucky for me my bag weighs a flipping tonne. I'd like to see someone try and run away with my case!

Sitting down to eat the pizza Ken brought across for us, I noticed that I was a tad overdressed. Everyone else erred on the casual side so I stuck out like a sore thumb.

Despite running late, we were the first ones on the bus. It looked awesome inside and out. 

Music was playing and drinks were flowing. Unfortunately I'm not going to cue a photo montage akin to the credits of The Hangover, but I will admit I had to look back at them to retrace my steps.

From what I can see, I had a good night. I thought I remembered most of it but upon reflection, perhaps not. I spent most of the night with a few guys from the other group. It was rather funny seeing them board the bus. Each guy resembled a horny Terminator sizing up each female specimen, tallying the stats. Drink had dumbed it down to a hot or not categorisation. Their targets had been acquired as they casually sat right by us. Sensing that we weren't completely trashed, they played it cool. I chose to stay aloof from the situation and watched events unfold. Let's just say, it's not only male backpackers who are out for what they can get!

At that moment I had an overwhelming desire to dance. Two metal poles were strategically positioned at either end of the bus. These came in handy for regulating my balance. They were obviously there for people to hold on to so they don't fall over...ahem.

By this point I must have been tipsy as I sashayed up to a handsome dark haired guy. I was more interested in the blue sequined trilby he was wearing. I busted a few moves and, in my eyes at the time, stealthily apprehended the pretty shiny object. I felt that I pulled it off. Mission accomplished, I sashayed off.

Moments later a few girls asked me how I managed to get the hat as they'd been trying all night. Apparently it's a lucky hat or something. I shrugged and carried on dancing. I managed to keep hold of the hat until it came to departing the bus and therefore gamble the night away. I didn't want to stand in the way of a guy and his lucky charm.

My night consisted of a light/water show at the Bellagio, watching a bit of TV on Fremount Street, having photos taken at the welcome sign and doing a spot of casino hopping. Gambling was involved at some point too but that died out pretty quickly. I wasn't feeling lucky and I didn't want to gamble my remaining dollars away and be left homeless. I have no idea what order those events transpired in but I do have remnants of memories from each. There are some things I'm happy to remember and others, not so much (the weirdest kiss I've ever had comes to mind).

 

Fremount Street

Ooooo, aaaaahh

Somehow I managed to rip my dress in the taxi. No, it wasn't in some heated sexual tryst. My life doesn't resemble an episode of Sex and the City. It got caught on the seat belt. Embarrassed and a little upset (it was one of only two dresses I own), I trudged up to my room. I stumbled about muttering nonsense. I remember Ken calling me to check that I was still alive and I think I passed out as the next thing I remember was waking up and seeing daylight...eugh.

Something For Nothing

There is a reason why I don’t mention money that much in my blog as I don’t have much of the stuff. I don’t live out of Mummy and Daddy’s pocket nor did I have some high-flying job that I quit back in the UK. I’ve gotten this far through grafting away at home prior to my trip, my tight purse strings and dumb luck.

My friend quite rightly told me that I could fill a separate blog with my “bodging”. Somehow I manage to make the pennies stretch to the unfathomable. Being a tight arse with money has come in handy finally. I knew I’d get the last laugh one day after the endless ribbing.

However, all good things must come to an end. My skills have gotten me this far but Australia took far too much of my money. My predictions in leaving the country with heavy dollar-filled pockets crashed and burned months ago.

Never one to dwell on what could have been, I had a trick up my sleeve. Couchsurfing is something that I dabbled in during my time in Japan and my first days in Australia. It’s a concept I am fairly familiar with having written about it for an article at university. Luckily, those stays were arranged through people that I met on my travels. In America, I’d ran out of contacts. I knew a couple of people but nobody who could host me.

Despite heavy warnings from travellers and Americans (ha!) telling me that there are too many weirdos out there, I decided to look for hosts via the official CouchSurfing website. I’d created a skeleton profile months before in the hope of meeting people in Australia but it turned out to be one of many things I never got around to doing there.

For those not in the know, couchsurfing describes the process of one person, couple or family hosting another traveller. This is the bare bones of it. There is of course a lot more to it than that but you’ll get to understand it a lot better as you read my future travels in America.

People’s reactions and opinions to couchsurfing intrigues me. Instinctively, the majority of people recoil at the thought of staying in a stranger’s home. “They could rape you in your sleep,” or “You could end up having all your stuff stolen,” are just some of the many humourous thoughts that have been expressed about couchsurfing. All by those who haven’t actually couchsurfed I hasten to add!

If you pause to think about it for a moment you’ll realise that couchsurfing isn’t all that bad. As a prospective surfer, you enter a person’s own private space. You must have a possession that you are protective over. At the moment, for me, it’s my laptop. If someone manhandles it or takes advantage of it in anyway then I flip out. It takes a lot for me to let someone use my laptop. For others it could be electronic or something more sentimental such as photos or ornaments. I’m just carrying one possession that I hold dearest to me, imagine how many things a person has in a whole apartment/house. I think that’s pretty admirable and respectable that they feel trusting enough to let someone into their space.

With any social network, you get your weirdos. Heck, have you seen how many I have encountered in the hostels I’ve stayed in!? Like with anything in this world, you have to have your wits about you. A level of common sense weeds out those you suspect that you wouldn’t get on with. Everyone has a profile and there is a reference system.

There is the risk that I’d end up staying with a complete idiot but I’m not paying to stay with this person so if I have any problems I can up and leave. I felt confident that this was the right path for me. Not only would I get a place to stay free of charge, I’d hopefully meet lovely people who know their hometowns. I might get to see things I’d never know about staying in a dorm room full of newbies like me. I wanted to try out something completely new and experience a country in a new light. I set my goal at couchsurfing through my entire stay in America.

Unfortunately I fell at the first hurdle. I tried to find a host in San Diego but posting an ad as well as sending out a handful of requests had failed. I started to have my doubts about couchsurfing. I thought it was easy to find a host, there are so many on the website. Instead, I settled for a hostel by the beach. As I mentioned in my previous post, it’s not the best nor the cleanest but the location was good for bus links as well as eateries and shops.

My first mission of the day was to find a plug adaptor but food came first. One plus point to the hefty hostel price tag, was the free breakfast. I’m used to what hostels class as free breakfast. I’ve had bread and a toaster to a full continental spread so I had no idea what awaited me. I entered the tiny kitchen and dining area and my eyes bulged at what stood before me. Two bright and cheery girls were cooking pancakes. As well as this sweet treat, there was toast and scrambled eggs piled up. Now is the time to fill my boots. I’ve already resigned to the fact that I will get fat in America. I plan on stuffing my face within one of the fattest nations in the world. Mwhaha..ahm nom nom!

Happily tucking into fluffy scrambled eggs and buttery toast, I tried to leave room for a pancake. It was difficult but I managed to force feed myself a peanut M&M pancake. What an awesome combination. It tasted as good as it sounds. By the end, I resembled Dawn French in the  British comedy Christmas episode - Vicar Of Dibley (Click here if you've not seen this episode before or click here to see the specific moment I was thinking of). I was sat on a bench so I didn't have any issues with my chair. The sweet-pancakey-goodness came as a better comfort to me than brussels sprouts ever would!

My sugar boost set me up for the day. I had plenty to do. No I didn’t go to the zoo or do something equally as exciting. Instead, I spent most of the day glued to my laptop sorting out my travels. It may sound like a wasted day but I really needed it. Being away from the internet for two weeks in Fiji has meant that I was seriously behind in my bookings. As I had a tour booked from LA and a festival ticket bought for Chicago, my dates were pretty rigid. I needed to ensure that I was on the right plane/train/bus on a specific day or I’d be screwed.

Before I could start planning, I needed an adaptor. The hostel receptionist gave me directions to a nearby pharmacy-come-supermarket. It was a funny sight as I don’t know any pharmacy in the UK that sells alcohol. I managed to come out with everything I wanted – a plug adaptor, a couple of drinks, Twizzlers (classic American confectionery  and hair straighteners. The latter wasn’t a planned purchase but a very much needed one. The Fijian waters had made my already frizzy hair regress to a frazzled mess. I looked like a yeti. I felt even better about my purchase as it was a flipping bargain! I love America already as everything is so much cheaper.

As I set up my laptop in the dining area, a guy set down across from me, breakfast in tow. Eye contact was made which then led to a semi-lengthy conversation about our travels and what brings us to San Diego. Amongst the friendly chatter, Michael (American) tried to coax me into taking a surfing lesson with him. At the time I was too distracted by his current predicament as he’d lost his car key and needed to move his car from the front of the hostel to prevent receiving a fine or even worse, having his car towed. He was asking me for advice on how to get into his car - somehow I look like a person who can break into a car. I asked if he had a coat hanger handy. Thankfully he didn’t as I’d have no idea what to actually do with it, I just saw somebody break into a car with one once...or maybe it was the front for of a house...

Moving the focus to Michael’s car troubles deviated from his sales pitch. Part of me was tempted as he was charging very little but I’d already done the “surf thing” in Australia and I am useless in the water. I couldn’t really justify the expense and even though he was a nice guy, I just didn’t really want to go in the sea.

As the conversation moved forward, a worker came over and started chatting to Michael. He donned the synonymous hoover pack that almost all hostel housekeepers use. Michael joked with him saying he looked like a superhero. I joined in and asked if his job title is Hoover Man. Unfortunately my sarcasm was lost on this guy who was also American. Is it just me, can I not pull off sarcasm? I know Americans are known for not understanding British humour but he’s not the only one who takes me deadly serious when I’m trying my hardest not to be, dammit!

Hoover Man turned to me with a mixed look of pity and disgust and said that his job title is Housekeeper. This was a clear facepalm moment but I just turned to my laptop, plugged in my music and tuned everyone out. Michael had other new guests to snare so he left me to it.

After scouring the internet for bargains, I managed to have an itinerary that made sense. I’m all up for the go-with-the-flow approach to travel and did it whilst in Japan, Malaysia and Australia but I didn’t have a lot of time or money left. I wanted to make sure that I got everything I could out of my final weeks. To do this, I intended to cram as many places as I could into six weeks.

The Plan

San Diego (3 days)
LA (2 days)
Bus tour begins – Joshua Tree National Park, Grand Canyon, Las Vegas, Death Valley, Yosemite National Park (7 days)
San Francisco (8 days)
Chicago (8 days)
Washington DC (4 days)
Toronto (3 days)
Montreal (3 days)
New York (9 days)

There are travel days in between each trip which I accounted for. It’s very easy to split your days and forget about the journey from one place to another. Travel days are my most unproductive days as I’m always so drained. I make it easier on myself by marking a whole day off for travel so I can rest and get my bearings.

You may notice that I have included two cities in Canada. That was a slightly spontaneous decision. I’d been thinking about visiting Canada for a while but on a separate trip. It was in Fiji when I noticed I had a gap in my itinerary between DC and New York.  Spending over two weeks in New York sounds great but expensive. I used this as an excuse to expand my list of countries. It was this day that I made it official and started booking transport and made provisional reservations at hostels just in case couchsurfing didn’t work out. I did this in every other place in America that I planned to visit.

Whilst I went on a booking spree, I noticed I received a message from someone who I sent a couchsurf request to in San Diego. Laura apologised for not being able to host me as she was out of the city. I messaged back to let her know that I managed to sort things out and asked for any tips. Laura messaged back pretty quickly with a list of places to visit and an invite out for dinner. That evening happened to be a weekly couchsurf meeting. These take place all over the world and are a great way to meet people in the area as well as prospective hosts. I’d already paid for the rest of my stay in San Diego.

It seems like my day wouldn’t be so much of a waste after all. I messaged Laura back accepting her invite. If I’d spent the day sightseeing I would have missed this message so sometimes good things can come from nothing…or doing nothing rather!

Here's One I Made Earlier

Blue Peter wasn’t necessary a staple in the Lee household growing up but it certainly had a strong presence within the era I grew up in. I caught the back-end of the desperate struggle to gain the prestigious Blue Peter badge.

For the non-Brits out there, Blue Peter is a long-running children’s television show. Another synonymous part of Blue Peter was the crafts section. Before the days of compulsory recycling, there was a different way to make use of finished toilet rolls, cereal boxes and ice lolly sticks.

A chirpy BP presenter would cut, fold and stick an amalgamation of crap together and start dousing it in papier mache. It would barely hold together and you'd squint and turn your head from side to side in a fruitless attempt to recognise what the hell they were making.

But fear not, the infamous words – “Here’s one we made earlier” – would emanate from their pearly whites and there you have it. Instead of a sloppy mountain of masking tape and watery paper, you have a perfectly moulded model of some sort.

Naïve children were lead to believe that this presenter spent minutes magically creating a masterpiece. I’m sure many kids tried and failed to make the Thunderbirds model, Tracy Island. This is the famous episode that most people recognise. It was a bit before my time but even I remember that one.

Many times in my travels I’ve wanted to say those words. Here’s a spectacular itinerary I made earlier. Instead, I stumble about blindly not necessarily thinking things through and consistently cut corners to save money. Why would anyone want to fly from Phuket to Kuala Lumpur when you can take a 24 hour bus ride? I’ve saved a tenner, I win!

There have been plenty of moments where I wish I had the gift of hindsight but then that would be boring. If I did catch a train or flight to Kuala Lumpur I would never have met Mel and Steff. They are more like extended family to me. We’ve been through so much together and have witnessed every angle of our personalities and have come through it all smiling and stronger than ever. It’s a flaming miracle and a wonderful one at that.

Fiji wasn't necessarily my Tracy Island but I probably should have thought twice about squeezing a five hour boat ride, ten hour flight and three hour train ride into one day.

*****

Brains of Britain here decided to have a heavy drinking session the night before a cave trip. That’s exactly what my hangover needed!

At least Amy and Amelia were in the same boat as me and felt equally rotten. We could crawl our way through this day together.

Alas, things are never that simple. As my caves trip came in voucher form through the package that I booked, I ended up going through a different company. Ridiculous seen as the resort offered exactly the same trip. Why not pay them instead of this rival company?

 

Amy and Amelia went off with the Coral View crew and me and two others stayed. We hung around for an hour until the boat arrived. My inner monologue ticked over what I could have done with that precious wasted hour. 

We weren’t the only ones left waiting. The boat made three stops to different resorts picking up random travellers. The others would be in and out of the caves by the time we got there!

A bumpy boat ride is not the cure for a hangover but a cause of one sore arse! All our arses collectively slammed into the wooden slats of the boat as we clung to each other for dear life. It’s not like there was anything else to hold on to! I decided that today was hug a stranger day.

Soaking wet and slightly bruised, we arrived at the Sawa-I-Lau cave entrance. The tour leader asked for $5 in exchange for snorkel goggles. I had no idea what I’d want to see underwater in a dark cave but was told it’s a necessity.

In my hangover-induced-wisdom, I brought my cloth handbag. My stuff was soaked but I managed to scrape out enough money to hand to the leader. I didn’t think anybody would want to steal my sorry-looking bag, so left it on the boat.

Teams of tourists packed up the stairs and entered the caves. Herded in like a sheep, I plopped into the water and feebly doggy-paddled (in fear of colliding with the jutting rocks that surrounded me) in the direction of others heading towards the light. It was as eerie as it sounds.

Charming!

Collectively everyone shrugged, “Now what?” as we tread water. Some nutters climbed up the side of the cave and jumped. No thanks.

Little did I know, I had my own daredevil stunt that I had to perform. To venture further into the caves, you had to swim through an underwater tunnel. Holy moly. I seemed to be the only one unnerved by this.

One by one, swimmers bobbed under the water and never came back up again. I’m going to die. I’m going to bash my head on a rock and run out of breath. Water is going to gush through to my lungs and I’m going to suffocate. I couldn’t tell if I was quivering in fear or from the cooling water temperature.

A woman from the resort talked me through it and took my camera so I had both hands free. Everyone said you’re under water for a few seconds. I can handle that. I practised holding my breath and counted to ten. I can do this. I moved forward and joined the queue.

Clinging to the rock face before the tunnel, I psyched myself up. I jumped out of a flipping plane and I’m worried about a bit of water. Man up! I grabbed a rope chained to the wall and pulled myself forward. The guide explained that once I go under, all I need to do is swim towards the light. The snorkel goggles make sense now.

This all sounds simple enough, nothing to worry about. One…two…eee…three…

For some reason I couldn’t sink. You’d think after all the cake and, more recently, waffles I’d eaten I’d sink to the ground like an anchor. Was I running out of breath already? I looked forward and could see a bright light. Am I dying? No wait, the guy said to swim towards the light. This is not heaven, this is a cave. I moved forward through the tunnel with a helpful shove in the side from the guide. This force propelled me forward like a torpedo and I flew forward. I flapped around for a bit. This has been more than a few seconds. Lying bastards.

Still moving forward, where the heck am I? I could feel my breath escaping but knew that panicking would not help. I stretched my arms forward as far as possible and kicked my legs. I felt something lock around my arm and wrench me forward. It was the light. 

God? I didn’t actually mutter those words but I was thankful to whoever is watching over me. It was a guide who grabbed me and pulled me up to the surface. Thanks to the snorkel goggle, I had no water up my nose. I just gasped and flapped for a few seconds like a trout on a fisherman’s deck.

It was so dark that nobody could see my pathetic prancing. The woman from Coral View was there already with my camera and I breezily covered my trembling with confident utterances. I was fine, it was fine. Deep down I gulped uneasily as I knew that the same journey awaited me.

A handful of us were guided around and told a couple of legends about the caves. I couldn’t hear a thing. I had a quick look around followed by a few “oos” and “ahs” then it was time to head back. Already!? I zoned out and imagined myself living in the caves. I don't have to go back. My thought train was interrupted as I started playing out my evolutionary progression in adopting gills. Alright, alright, I’m coming. I left my daydream and my fear back in the cave as I dived under and back through to the other side. I knew there was a guy waiting to pull me through so I wasn’t scared.

To prevent any collisions, we took a different route back to the caves. This tunnel was a lot narrower but my arse just about squeezed through. Ok, I’m ready to leave now. The caves were interesting enough but paddling around in murky water dodging tourists wasn’t my idea of fun. My waterproof watch told me that I’d be cutting it fine in getting back to the resort and departing on my boat back to Nadi.

Villagers greeted us as we exited and ushered us over to their market stalls. It was all the same crafts and jewellery that I’d seen countless times. I’d already bought a cannibal fork and a coconut hair clip from my Fijian family in Namatakula so I was sorted. As much as I wanted to help the villagers, I didn’t want to be carrying around too many nik-naks.

Normally the journey back is quicker but this boat ride was taking forever. I needed a shower, have some food, check out properly and say goodbye to everyone. By the time we got back to the resort, I had 45 minutes. Mustering up my inner Usain Bolt, I sprinted to reception and rented a towel. I ignored the rule of using the reception toilets and showers and dashed back to my room and used the nicer ones there. I threw on the things I hastily grabbed from my suitcase in reception.

Lunch was ready and waiting. I piled my plate up and sat down. Everyone had already finished. I devoured my meal like a prisoner after hunger strike. This spicy sweet pumpkin dish was so delicious I had to go up for seconds. I can eat and say goodbye surely?

As I started up on round two, a worker came across and asked me if I was going to check out. Like a pupil being told off by their Headmaster, I uncomfortably stirred in my seat. Food will have to wait. I got up and handed my bank card to settle the bill and went back to my plate. This is Fiji, there is no chip and pin here. It takes a good few minutes to process a payment. 

Moments later, the worker came back over and told me my card had been declined. Ha…what? This did not look good. I was checking out late and I seemed more interested in pumpkin than paying. I’m not surprised the worker thought I was trying to pull a fast one. I explained that I did not have any other cards. The worker suggested trying it again as there is the slight chance that they got the card number wrong.

Within the melee, Emma and a couple of others came over all smiles, ready to embrace and say goodbye. My eyes welled up and their smiles faded. After asking what was wrong I went on a massive tirade about the awkward caves trip which meant that I didn’t have enough to do everything that I wanted to. I had less than ten minutes and I’d not seen anyone to say goodbye to. I hate being rushed. What’s more, my card has been declined so I might not even get to leave the island!

Emma calmed me down and said everything will be ok. I knew it would be but I was still worked up. I have no idea why. I’ve spent the past two weeks (maybe even longer) drifting past life’s stressors and enjoying my trip. For some reason, today I flipped. I had no pristine Tracy Island model to present whilst sweeping the gloopy mess of my first attempt to one side.

Suddenly the worker cropped up again all blushes and smiles saying my card went through. Hooray! I spooned the last remnants of pumpkin into my mouth, gathered my things and hugged everyone goodbye. I had time to swap details with those I cared about and waited outside for the boat. The lovely workers at Coral View placed a floral necklace around each of our necks and sang us the goodbye song. Even though everything had been lovely at Coral View, I was ready to leave. Two weeks had definitely been enough Fiji for me. I craved the chaos and craziness of America.

 Amelia, me and Amy

 Me and Emma

Angela, Amy, Amelia and I left for our very long boat ride. I was the only one going back to the mainland. I had five hours to burn. Nature programmes and a documentary on Captain Cook averted my boredom.

When I arrived at the last stop, I needed to find my free airport transfer. Before I could do that though, I needed to buy and write postcards as well as find a post office to send them. Yes, I left everything to the last minute. There was a postal service on South Sea Island but nothing for the rest of the way. I hurriedly found some pretty and funny postcards to send to my intended recipients and wrote down some rushed words that I hoped made sense. Luckily the post office was open and I sent them off without too much hassle.

My luggage was left unclaimed. When I went back to the docking bay, I found my suitcase resting in the middle of a pathway prime for the taking. A thief could try and take it but I doubt they’d want 23 kilos of crap. I literally have nothing of worth in my suitcase. In fact, they’d be doing me a favour. I’d claim on the insurance and buy a new wardrobe!

Instead, I lugged the Beast’s elder sister to the car park where I found my coach transfer to the airport. 

Checking in was a breeze and I had time to kill. I ate a grotty burger and undercooked chips whilst watching Fast and Furious on my notebook. I didn’t have time to finish the film unfortunately.

Whilst boarding the plane my mood shifted up a notch as I saw that the chairs had television screens in the back of them. This was short-lived as the picture quality was terrible and the films weren’t optional. I missed the beginning of The Vow as I channel hopped checking out what other films were playing. I was that bored, I even tried to sleep, something that’s impossible for me on public transport. 

Finally I arrived in America. Let the fun times begin!

Brisbane Contd...Sitting, Waiting, Wishing.

It wasn’t the mounting list of weirdos that drove us out of Brisbane YHA, but the never-ending need to save money. I feel like a broken record but it’s always about the money.

It was Good Friday. Mel and Steff were out building a boat and I decided to checkout of our room and chill out on the top floor until they finished. We found a campsite within 3 train stops of Fortitude Valley, where we were working which was perfect for us. The others took the car to work with the camping stuff so there was no point rocking up to the campsite to sit on a naked piece of grass.

I sat and ate breakfast in full view of the random woman from Earth Hour night. This time she had a Joker (Batman) face thanks to a long strand of sour cream which ran up either side of her face. The woman was sat mumbling to herself. It was another odd sight to add to the hostel weirdo collection.

Thankfully Mac was around so we whiled away the hours by playing pool and bouncing off each other with the fight talk. I plainly won due to the fact that Mac had no idea what I was saying. He didn’t know what a git was nor did he know the word faff. I’ve used it in my blog a few times so I apologise to those who too didn’t know what I was waffling on about. Faff means to dither about and generally waste time whether on purpose or not.

Soon enough, it was time to say goodbye to the hostel.

Not a bad view for a lowly dorm in Brisbane.

It did end up being a bit of a mad rush to get to the campsite before reception closed but we made it. There were no frills and bows to this place. There was a small outside kitchen area, showers, toilets and laundry. No common room, games room or jumping bean.

Our life was dull as doorknobs. We got up, got ready, went to work, came back and rushed to the supermarket to grab some food before closing, ate and went to bed. This was our Monday to Friday cycle so even if there was a common room, we would have seldom seen it!

Weather permitting, Mel and Steff still worked on the boat and I wandered about aimlessly looking for something to do. My brain was so drained of batteries that I could barely form words at the weekend. Imagine sitting listening to yourself say the same thing repeatedly. I didn’t blame people for hanging up on me. There were many times when I wanted to face plant my computer screen.

Our only excitement came from when Mac stayed with us for a week to sample a bit of camp life. He was sorely disappointed when he couldn’t start a camp fire. It must be a popular pastime in Canada. Drama also ensued when Mel became very ill due to on-going problems related to a past illness. The treatment Mel received made us all think twice about slating the NHS in England!

Oh it was also great fun when Steff lost the car keys. I was lucky as my suitcase was in the tent. Unfortunately everything that Mel and Steff owned (bar the tent etc) was in the car. Getting a locksmith to come out and fix us up a new key was around $300. It was a good job they found it the next day. Steff had left it in a café where they had breakfast that morning.

Surprisingly that’s a day where we hardly argued. We all fell silent in defeat. Steff was incredibly hard on himself and because it was something that effected everyone and consequently could have cost us a lot of money that we didn’t have, we couldn’t laugh it off.

It’s ok though as we all lived somewhat happily ever after once we quit our jobs and left Brisbane. We booked three trips – Two days and one night on Fraser Island, a one day and one night Castaway trip at 1770 and a three days and two nights boat trip around the Whitsunday Islands. We originally booked the Noosa Everglades trip but backed out as we’d spent the majority of our time camping up the East Coast. We decided it was time for a break! Instead, Mel was able to get the voucher transferred across to the Fraser Island trip instead and the value was deducted from the trip.

As always, it wasn’t easy to begin with. After the troubles I had with STA, I felt like a jinx when we had issues with Peter Pan (an Australian operated travel company…not the fairy tale character!). It’s a complicated story but the footnotes version is that our booking was lost and the person we spoke to was actually based in the Cairns branch so nobody in Brisbane had a clue what we were on about. Mel and I are both outspoken enough to get things sorted but it wasn’t easy. Unlike the email battle I had with STA, we were able to sort things out partially over the phone and then in person.

It does make me worry about my next locations as I will have booked things for New Zealand, Fiji and America! I need to find myself a good luck charm sharpish.

The elation of not having to work again whilst travelling is indescribable. I’m so happy that I can finally get back to travelling and not have anything holding me back. The prospect of leaving and starting afresh in a new country is both nerve-wracking and exciting as always. This time it is slightly different as I’ll feel like I’m leaving family behind by saying goodbye to Mel and Steff. We best make the most of my time and hope that my final weeks in Australia will make up for time lost through working to live.

Brisbane Contd...The Longest Day

I awoke still not knowing whether I had a job or not. I called up as soon as the office opened and found out that we got it. Hooray. However, we did have to wait a little longer to find out if we could get on the training for that day (with Mel) or not. It was fully booked.

Mel left for her training and it wasn’t until it started that we found out we could come in. So off we rushed in hope that we hadn’t missed that much. It didn’t help that Steff wasn’t even ready when we received the phone call.

Having seen what people turned up to the interviews in, I decided to go in casual clothing. Wrong. Everyone was in shirts and dresses. Damn. We happened to walk in just as the trainer, Wayne, was describing what the dress code is. No thongs (flip flops), which we were both wearing and no three-quarter shorts, which Steff was wearing. Oh well!

Today happened to feel like the longest day of my trip so far. The training involved Wayne talking through a power point display and he threw in plenty of jokes but I still felt like falling asleep. It’s something we needed to go through as I’ve never done a job like this before plus, I needed to know as much information as possible about what I’ll be talking about on the phone!

With every group you get the one odd bod and this training group was no different. This girl was ker-razy! Every few minutes she’d say something weird and I’m not sure if it was a cry out for attention or if she was just plain weird. For instance, at one point she shouted out that one time a girl she didn’t know punched her in the face whilst she was in a restaurant. What do you say to that? Thankfully it was just half a day so I could just about tolerate the day.

Back at the hostel, in our wonderful backpacker wisdom, it was decided that we’d each take it in turns cooking. It’s always a pain to do so it’s nice to have a couple of days rest safe in the knowledge that somebody else will be doing the legwork. It’d also save on arguments over what to have as the cook chooses the dish.

The first night was Mel’s as it was her idea. I’m glad I had nothing to do with it as it took forever to make. I needed to think of something quick and simple as I didn’t want to be spending an hour and a half sweating in the kitchen!

Mel’s concoction was curried mince, mash and veg and it was quite tasty. In Come Dine With Me style we gave Mel marks out of ten. I think we marked Mel at 13. Not to worry as free pizza was on its way thanks to a travel talk. We had no idea what it entailed but I could always do with educating on travelling.

It turned out to be a representative from a tour operator. Mel, Steff and I had thought about booking trips for the rest of the way up the East Coast as we’d spent so much money and we’d not done as much as we’d hoped.

James from Discovery wowed us with the tours they offered. The first was a trip to the Noosa Everglades. It was a camping and canoeing trip and very much self-guided. You get given a map and are left to fend for yourself. It sounded quite exciting and I was surprised when Mel also showed an interest in the trip. It sounded very much like the Blue Mountains trip I took in that it’s all scenery and walking.

The next trip was for Fraser Island and looked fantastic. It was a luxury tour for sure. It was a sights trip more than activities and the food looked brilliant. Something I have been lacking in as of late.

A prize was given out – a free trip to the Noosa Everglades. To win, the first person to put their hand up and answer a question (related to the talk) correctly, won. I was too slow and a guy at the back won. Mel was gutted and, to be fair, seemed to be the only person alive in the room, asking plenty of questions.

I piped up with one, asking what the camping gear was like…specifically if the pans are non-stick. Not the best of questions nor was it that important. It was definitely something that should have stayed in my head and not burst out of my mouth.

James took a shine to Mel’s eagerness and asked another question that nobody expected. Mel’s arm nearly flew off its socket. With the question answered correctly, Mel had won a place on a Noosa Everglades trip. Nice one!

We chilled out by the pool table for the rest of the evening. My pool skills have not improved over the years so it was a bit embarrassing playing against power couple Mel and Steff. I played Mac and won so I felt a bit better about myself.

It’s always annoying how the evenings disappear when work is looming the next day. Well, training should I say, but still. Another day, another dollar…Ok I’m not getting paid until Thursday. You get the picture though!

*****

Training was a little more bearable than the day before. I managed to speak to a couple of people within our training group as well as current workers. I felt a little bit better about my circumstances as I was surrounded by good people.

Again, not a lot to report – training by day, pool playing by night. Money is my priority so unfortunately, I’m going to be spending my days trying to save rather than spend.

*****

There were three things different about the next day. Firstly, I worked a full day from 11am until 8pm. Another change is that I was finally getting paid for something! Finally, we had the ping pong. It’s an item of equipment that seems to be following us around so it seems. It certainly broke up the day nicely and it felt like it counted towards some sort of fitness seen as my future days were due to entail being tied to a desk and headset.

Most of the day was spent recapping what had been told to us on the previous days. I didn’t mind at all, anything to put off the inevitable suited me just fine. I was very nervous about getting on the phones.

When it got to it, I did alright. It’s not the worst of the worst, I’m calling people to ask if they want to save money on their electricity and not selling them something they don’t need. I still have a soul, don’t worry.

I got so worked up about the day and what was looming that I forgot it was my turn to cook tea. My first reaction wasn’t great as I was shocked the guys wanted food. It was far from my mind. After things calmed down, I had ten minutes to find something at the supermarket. I wasn’t used to Queensland operating times. It still baffles me that shops would close that early. Well, 9pm is early to me!

Skimming the aisles, I managed to find inspiration. A beef stir fry. I had issues with the green beans but everything turned out fantastically...if I say so myself. I got some good marks as it did go down a storm. I also bought dessert and said to the guys that the meal was on me. I felt bad for forgetting it was my night to cook and we could all do with a treat seen as our funds were dwindling.

The guys were really grateful and I even got a berry muffin for my efforts thanks to Mel.

We spent the evening working off our massive feed with a few games of pool. I still sucked but I was gradually getting better thanks to the tuition from the Mr and Mrs Pool.

It felt like the week had just started seen as I only just got on the phones at work. Easter weekend had other plans for me as everything shut down. Mel and Steff had their boat duties though so, again, I was left to my own devices. I had no idea what I was going to do.

Port Stephens 16/03/2012 - 2 Nights

Goodbye hostel. Goodbye beach. Goodbye job. Goodbye Sydney. It was a dizzying feeling leaving Collaroy. It’s a place I’ve called home for around four months which is scary in itself. I wasn’t sure how I would feel leaving. I wasn’t sad as I didn’t hold much of an attachment to the place other than the odd routine and any real friends that I did make, I'd be sure to see again in the future. The only word I feel that truly emulates my feelings is relief. I felt like I was starting to get into a bit of a rut. I was too dependent on my surroundings and I didn’t like that. It’s not a good sign really as what the hell am I going to be like when I eventually get home? It’s a good job I don’t have to worry about that just yet.

Once the surge of excitement had left my body and the car had taken us out of Sydney, it was a, “Now what?” moment. Steff had his, and I use the term loosely, tunes blasting out of the stereo so conversation was out of the question. After hearing the same ten songs for two hours I thought I was going to crack up. It took me back to my days at New Look where we used to have one CD on repeat. Christmas was unbearable. I took solace in reading a book I thought I’d read before but bought it anyway. It was only $2 from a charity shop. The book is titled Girl Meets Ape by Chis Manby. Perhaps I subconsciously stole her wordplay for my blog. It kept me going.

It wasn’t the music that got to me, nor was it the leaning tower of crap that teetered between Sarah and me but the searing heat that prickled my flesh. The sun finally came out and boy did we feel it. Being a typical Brit, I don’t like being soaked by the rain, it can’t be too cold and it can’t be too hot either. Ergo, just like everyone else, I’m never bleedin’ happy!

It wasn’t the only thing that left me feeling uncomfortable. I had my qualms about the changes that had come about. Our trio had recently become a quartet - another girl - which, on paper, sounds like a good thing. Surely it’s refreshing to have a fresh face amongst us. For me though, I had a weird unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. Firstly, I was worried that I’d be pushed out. Sarah got on exceedingly well with Mel which worried me. I shudder at the school day flashbacks. Girls can be so mean. The last thing I want is a flipping cat fight. How would Sarah’s personality mix in with Mel’s fieriness and my laid back attitude? I already know Mel so well that I can tell what she’s thinking and can even predict what she will do at certain points. It’s rather scary. Steff is a bit of a closed book but isn't a challenge to get on with. I want things to be easy though. I don’t want to become the little girl bouncing up and down shouting, “Look at me!” to get attention nor do I want to walk into a cliched bitch fest. Girls scare me…more than guys! Why do you think the majority of the friends I’ve made on my trip have been guys? Male company is a heck of a lot easier to handle then female. My M.O. will be to approach with caution. I’m going to sit on the wings and see how this thing pans out. I hoped I was just being paranoid.

*****

As we drove out of Sydney, we were still debating on where our first stop was going to be. I was hoping to drop in on my friend Bex seen as we were going north but this caused a lot of drama. Everyone was panicking and wanted to get to our first stop as soon as possible so we can find camp and settle down. A detour could ruin this and we could get lost. I was gutted but swallowed my feelings and let my idea be vetoed without a strong fight. When I feel it is right to fight for my opinions, then I will, but this was not the time. It was the beginning of the trip and I’d do anything for an easy life.

We were thinking of stopping off at Newcastle but decided to go further up to Port Stephens instead. The drive there didn’t feel that long. Mel and Steff both drove. I offered to drive but neither of them seemed that bothered with driving so I went back to my book.

Escaping to the world of chimpanzees certainly made the drive fly by. We arrived in Port Stephens and headed straight to the beach. Mel and Steff ran into the sea and Sarah and I watched on. One Mile Beach had the softest sand I had ever seen or felt for that matter. It was the strangest feeling having that stuff filter through my toes. We didn’t hang around for long as we were all pretty drained from the drive. 


The search was on for a decent camp site within our budget. Steff had been told to head to Anna Bay for good surf so we stopped off at a series of camp sites in the area and settled on the cheapest one. The guy on the desk must suffer from multiple personality disorder as he went from a cheery welcome to an abrupt speech on how we best behave ourselves. Apparently he gets a lot of backpackers in causing a drunken raucous. It wasn’t the warmest of welcomes but never mind! Everything was so clean that I couldn’t complain for the price. I didn’t worry about any creepy crawlies lurking around so that suited me. We set up the tent. Ok Mel and Steff did most of the work. I just did as I was told!

All this travelling lark certainly takes it out of you. Our stomachs were rumbling so we headed out to get some food from the local supermarket. This time around this was a simple task. We all agreed on cheeseburgers, a quick and easy meal. It also made splitting the costs at the till a lot easier! The camp had a PAYG barbie so, once back, we fired that up and cooked our tea. As we just finished eating the guy from earlier cropped up. It looks like he’s the owner or manager at least. We had a bit of banter with him and we seemed to have got the cheery Aussie again.

Back at the tent, we unfolded our chairs and sat round for a little camp side chatter. The sky was beautiful that night. The jet black blanket perfectly cushioned the sparkling stars making them the clearest I'd ever seen them. We all found a star constellation. I found Orion’s Belt. Trusty Men In Black ensured that I knew something at least! We cracked open some sparklers left over from some time I can’t recall (!) and regressed back to childhood. We were all so giddy but that didn’t last. Our earlier weariness caught up with us and it was time for bed. Finally after four months I can happily hit the hay with everyone else. Back at the hostel we all wanted to go to sleep at different times. As I worked mornings, it was always me that wanted the light to go out first.

Ooo, my first photo with glasses I do believe.

*****

It wasn’t our alarms that woke us up in the morning, it was the rain. Typical, we’re ready to do something with our day and it belts it down with rain. It eased off enough for us to get ready without too much hassle. Despite laying down camp mats, I still had a sore arse. I envied Mel and Steff who had bagged a free air bed from a work mate. I saw bunny rabbits outside the tent and my spirits lifted slightly. We ate breakfast and went out on a quest to find something to do in the intermittent rain. We grabbed some leaflets from reception but headed over to a Tourist Information Office for some advice.

Everything was either shut or too expensive. There wasn’t that much to do in Port Stephens anyway. We went there for the surf but that wasn’t possible. There was a place that let you swim with harmless - won't bite your leg off - sharks. That seemed pretty cool. I hadn’t had chance to try out my recently acquired GoPro camera. I bought it off of Wayne after a conversation on cameras led to Wayne wanting to upgrade his and offload the old one. I kindly offered to help him out with that one obviously! I have a camera that can go under water now!

We rocked up to the place and skipped inside, again, like school kids (a common theme you will find). Unfortunately we were thoroughly disappointed. The place was awful. The sharks were in a cramped shallow (mid-calf deep) pool. The manta rays and other sea life didn’t fare any better. Not only were they trapped in these conditions but had the discomfort of having snotty kids prod them. We felt awkward and didn’t want to be around this so left pretty sharpish.

Driving around looking for inspiration drained us all. I was sick of passing the same muscly guy holding up a massive fish - an advertisement for fish and chips. I felt like he was mocking me. The final place we could think of to visit was a huge water slide. We stumbled at the first hurdle as it was shut. Instead, we went on the nearby toboggan ride. I didn't really know what to expect so approached with caution. I whipped out the GoPro and watched as Mel, Steff and Sarah sped off. It was my turn. I listened to the controller informing me on how to brake and how to speed up. It all seemed pretty simple. That's not what I thought half way down the track when I fell off! I was going that fast that the toboggan wobbled and I tumbled out. I hit my head, scraped my knee and elbow. I quickly got back on my toboggan and carried on like nothing had happened. I played down my injuries even though they stung. The metal track had sliced off a layer of skin. Surprisingly my travel mates reacted with concern rather than hysterics. It's not like them at all!

My latest boo boo. Bruises later developed and I sported a rainbow band around my elbow that has only just faded.

Everyone enjoyed the toboggan ride but we still felt disheartened with the day's events. We returned to camp rather early where I took this opportunity to spend some time on my laptop, updating my blog specifically. I decided to use the kitchen nearest to our site. This kitchen was being used by a church group the night before but I assumed it was ok to use that day. I was corrected a short while later when someone asked me if I was part of the group (ha!). When I told her I wasn't, the woman said I was fine to stay until more people arrived and they’d be cooking a meal. Fair enough. The woman then sternly added that a lot of their stuff had been stolen. Food and cutlery had gone missing and I could definitely empathise. It slowly dawned on me that this woman thought that I had stolen the stuff. Pah! Obviously she didn’t say that to me but the judgemental stares and faint whisperings to her friends said as much. It didn’t offend me enough to leave though!

There isn’t much to report about Port Stephens other than that. We left the next day. As we packed up the manager drove over to us on a quad bike and told us to pay up. We got the grumpy Aussie that morning. What a weird little man. Our next stop was Port Macquarie where we hoped that the weather would improve and that we’d find more things to do!