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Queensland - North to Mission Beach
Zooming past the Gold Coast.
 Today
we moved from Byron Bay, to the Glasshouse Mountains, north of Sydney.
Before we left Byron Bay we drove up to the lighthouse, and had a run
around at the most easterly point of Australia. Our original plan was
to move 100kms north, but in the end we moved 350kms, past the Gold
Coast and Surfers Paradise, through Brisbane and up the Bruce Highway
further still. This was because the weather was pretty cool and changeable,
and the National Park we were aiming for was cold and wet. We decided
that we’d stop there on the way down, and as Emily was happily asleep
in the back of the van, we carried on up the motorway. When we crossed
the border from New South Wales into Queensland it was like moving to
another country. Suddenly the side of the road was covered with huge
out of town developments, just like in the States, and there seemed
to be a McDonalds every 10 miles (to give you a comparison, we think
we saw 5 McDonalds in the 600 miles from Sydney to the state line with
Queensland, and then after we crossed into Queensland, 10 in the 60
miles to Brisbane. We also saw the coastline developed with lots of
tall apartment blocks, again something which didn’t happen in New South
Wales. So Australia is obviously very different between each of the
states.
We finally stopped around 5pm at a small campsite in the Glasshouse
Mountains (basically, volcanic plugs sticking up in an otherwise flat
landscape). The bonus was that this site had a TV room, so we settled
down to watch the opening ceremony of the Rugby World Cup with a few
other backpackers on the site. A week ago they’d been advertising 10,000
surplus tickets for the game in Sydney – if we’d been impetuous we could
have been there in person, rather than watching it on the box!
The Sunshine Coast (or is it "the Big Sunshine
Coast"?)
We are now officially in ‘the Sunshine Coast’,
which is the strip north of Brisbane. And this morning we woke up to
blue skies and a little bit of warmth (well, actually we had woken up
at 3am to close the windows because of a torrential downpour, but we’ll
put that aside for the minute!). Again we decided to move on, rather
than stay longer, as the site wasn’t the most homely we’ve been on (is
this going to be what it’s all about – moving from place to place every
day?). We drove through some back roads, along a ridgeline, with views
to the left of the mountains and forests, and to the right of the ocean
(and inevitable tower blocks lining the shores). From high on the hills
we could appreciate just how green Queensland is at this time of the
year, with lots of trees, lakes and green pastures.
 We
were aiming for the “Big Pineapple”, a tourist park themed around, what
else but pineapples. This “BIG” theme is something that’s all the rage
in Oz – as well as the Big Prawn, we’ve also driven past the ‘Big Barrel’
(winery), the ‘Big Banana’ (yes, banana-themed plantation), the ‘Big
Honeypot’ (you guess!) and the ‘Big Mower’ – which was actually a Stratton
Briggs lawnmower dealership getting in on the tourist game! Although
it was free to get into the Big Pineapple, once you were in they charged
high prices to see anything other than the gift shop and restaurant.
We’d hoped for a bit of an educational experience for Charlotte, but
it was disappointingly touristy, with very few people around to ask
questions of (Charlotte had prepared a list of questions about pineapples
in advance, and fortunately most were answered from the small display
we could visit).
So then it was on, with a short, wasted, stop at the ‘Big Ginger’ (a
ginger factory, where again you paid to see ginger produced). The girls
were disappointed that they couldn’t buy a Gingerbread man from the
shop, despite the signs for the factory featuring them. (That sums it
up for them – if they’re not gripped by a place, then they end up focusing
on what sweets they can buy!). And then another hour’s drive to Tin
Can Bay, where we settled into another caravan site for the night.
Tin Can Bay – and wild dolphins
 We’ve
been in Tin Can Bay for two nights. It’s a very small town on the coast,
surrounded by mangrove forest and mud flats. The main reason to visit
here is the wild dolphin that comes in to the marina most mornings,
and which visitors can feed. We went both mornings that we’ve been here
– yesterday (Sunday) and today. Both mornings there were about 30 visitors,
all sitting on the dockside waiting for the dolphin to arrive, sometime
between 8 and 10am – if it feels like visiting. We were lucky enough
to see it both times, and we all waded knee deep in the water to watch
it (along with 20 others, forming a line along the small beach). The
dolphin noses around for a while, and then people are allowed to feed
it with fish they buy from the café (yes, it’s a business thing, but
it also means that they can control the amount it gets – in total it
receives 3Kg of fish during the feeding, and it has to find the other
15Kg it needs for its diet elsewhere).
 As
you can imagine, the girls were very excited, and a little nervous.
We waited until the feeding frenzy had died down (ie all the long line
of visitors jockeying to be ‘next’ to feed the dolphin had all used
up their fish), so that the girls could feed the dolphin without being
pushed around, and then they both had the chance to hold a fish just
under the surface, and the dolphin came right up to take it from their
hands.
 Unfortunately
when it came around to Emily’s turn the fish slipped from her hands
and dropped down into the water – which made the dolphin come in very
close, as you can see on the photo. Charlotte thought that was great,
but Emily seemed a little nervous to be staring at quite so many teeth
coming out of the water towards her!
 All
in all, it was pretty magical start to the day for all of us. We even
managed to avoid the ‘attack of the pelicans’ – the fish attracts quite
a few pelicans, a couple of whom get into the middle of the crowd to
get at the fish being held out for the dolphin. At one point a particularly
aggressive pelican dived at a fish being held by a small boy, which
resulted in a big scene as his Mum and Dad tried to get the fish back
(no chance of course!).
 On
a complete tangent, Tin Can Bay dolphin feeding also gave another illustration
of the way that Australians use the English language. There seems no
holds barred on swearing, from simple everyday conversations, to advertising,
to the radio (we listened to a programme on ABC where the author being
interviewed used almost every single four letter word we knew – and
so did the presenter – at 4 o’clock in the afternoon). So it was no
surprise at all to see this sign out the front of the café at Tin Can
Bay.
Later in our stay in Oz, I will write some more about their language,
but I’ve got to work out how to do that on a public website – some of
the language I’ve heard here wouldn’t be right for a ‘family oriented’
site!
Fraser Island – Day One
We’ve just returned from Fraser Island, where
we’ve been camping and driving around. Fraser Island is a bit special
– it’s the world’s largest sand island, and you can only drive it with
a four-wheel-drive vehicle (4WD). So we weren’t going to be able to
get anywhere in our campervan, so it meant that we hired a 4WD from
Aussie Adventures. It was a beaten up old Land Rover, but if you want
a vehicle to drive across difficult terrain, it’s got to be the right
choice hasn’t it?
In the office (well, shed) of the hire company, they provided an uplifting
experience – in fact, enough to make us wonder whether we should really
go! The office was plastered with photographs of 4WD’s that had got
bogged down in the sand, or stuck on rocks, and then inundated by the
tides – plenty of shots of Land Rovers with waves pouring through the
windows, one of a 4WD completely submerged, with a boat anchored to
it, and one of a Land Cruiser on it’s roof, which had been overturned
while driving. So a cheery view as I sat down to sign the 29-point disclaimer
sheet on the rental agreement! And then the owners started to talk about
what could go wrong – but don’t worry, they said, there’s a mechanic
on the island who’ll come and pull you off the rocks/out of the soft
sand (“Mind you”, they said, “he can be very difficult to deal with,
but if he’s been off the sauce early in the day you’ll be all right!”).
Then they told us not to swim off the beach because of the sharks (“Oh
yea, you’ll see loads!”) and then came the dire warnings about the danger
of dingoes (wild dogs) that roam the island. Last year they killed a
small boy on the island, who’d been playing away from his parents, so
there’s a very real threat from them.
So there we are, signing a rental agreement for the world’s oldest,
rustiest Land Rover, and I can feel my stomach starting to sink...
 Driving
out to Fraser Island was easy – 10 miles to the ferry point, and a quick
skip across the beach to the ferry itself. The sand was fine, and very
soft, so it was a real fight to keep the car in a straight line. And
somehow I’ve signed up for three days of this?!? As you can see, the
weather wasn’t exactly on top form either – we’d dodged a big rainstorm
on the way to the ferry, and as it set off another huge dump of rain
dropped directly on top of us. We were all quite quiet in the car, knowing
that we’ve got a tent to sleep in, a stove to cook on, and that’s it!
When the ferry dropped us at Hook Point, on the bottom of the island,
the tide was still going out. The main beach, which is 70 miles long,
is a highway at low tide, and impassable at high tide, and at the mid-tide
you can drive towards the top of it – on the soft sand. We set off,
pausing for half an hour to let the tide fall far enough to let us pass
a couple of driftwood trees, and then started heading north. As we drove
the tide went further and further out, letting us move further down
the beach, onto flatter and more solid sand. Eventually we were whizzing
up the beach at 50mph (the speed limit), slowing down for the bumps
and creeks flowing into the ocean.
Half way up we remembered what we’d forgotten – plates and cups! Our
camping gear was a combination of things from the hire place, and our
own bedding and crockery from the camper van. And we’d forgotten the
crockery half. With red faces, we drove up to the small store at Eurong,
one of only three villages on the island, and bought ourselves some
new plates etc. The assistant at the till told us “It’s people like
you that pay my bonus”, which was a nice thought – for her. Anyway,
we drove on further up the beach. On day one our plan is to get from
the bottom right to the last campsite at the top, 60 miles away.
 A
little further up the beach we found out that although the beach is
classified as a road, and normal road rules apply (drive on the left,
50mph speed limits and you must wear seat belts), there were some things
that were odd about it (apart from the fact that it was a beach...).
A light aircraft was flying down the beach towards us, and losing
altitude all the time. When he switched on his landing lights, we
realised that unless we pulled over he was going to land on our roof!
Faces of grinning tourists, with camcorders glued to their eyes, flashed
past us.
 We
carried on driving a little more cautiously, but soon got the hang of
the occasional dash to the side of the beach to let a plane land (in
all, we saw half a dozen landings and take-offs). Finally, we reached
Indian Head, the Champagne Pools, famous for the waves breaking over
the rocks into bubbly rock pools, where we stretched our legs on the
beach.
At 5.30 we arrived at our campsite, at Waddy Point, on the dunes behind
the beach. We had half an hour of daylight to setup camp, including
putting up our hired 4-man dome tent for the first time. Fortunately
the weather had cleared up, and blue skies had replaced the grey clouds.
After camp setup, we settled down the make dinner – after we’d borrowed
some matches from the obliging Australian family next door! We’re first-class-remember-everything,
campers aren’t we?
Just before night fall, the National Parks Ranger came around, to check
our camping permits, and give us a little ‘first night pep talk’. He
told us about the dangers of dingoes, and how we should make sure that
the children are always with us, and don’t let them wander off on their
own. He told us about the camp fire ban (not a problem, we hadn’t got
enough matches to light one!) and a few other handy hints. And then,
just as he was wandering off, he spotted our head torch. “Ahh”, says
the Ranger, “that’ll be very useful. You should always carry a torch
at night, so that you can see where you’re going”. Long pause. “Especially
as we’ve been seeing Brown snakes around the campsite. You don’t want
to stand on one of those, as they’re the second most deadly snake in
the world”. And then he left, as darkness fell suddenly all around us.
Fraser Island – Day Three
Camping mornings start early, with the dawn –
and tea was on at 6am. As we surfaced we realised that we were definitely
in backpacker corner of the camp – surrounded by half a dozen identical
6-man tents. Fraser Island is a popular trip for backpackers, where
the hostels in Harvey Bay (where they all congregate) bring together
groups of 11 people, and kit them out with a 4WD and camping gear for
the same trip we’re doing. Last time we travelled through Australia,
when it was just the two of us, we did it that way – it costs about
Au$150 per person – but this time we didn’t think that the others would
appreciate two small children in the 4WD. By hiring a Land Rover ourselves,
we’ve actually ended up spending less (a total of AU$450 for three days
for all of us) and being able to decide when and where we go (and not
having to cram 7 other people into our vehicle!). It’s worked out pretty
well.
Mind you, backpacking isn’t what it used to be! When we pulled in
to buy our plates, the car park was full of backpackers eating Magnums
– I dunno, in my day as a backpacker we didn’t have the money for that.
But most shocking was last night, when I found we’d cooked too much
pasta in tomato sauce – I offered it to one of the groups, but they
declined because they’d bought too much food themselves – and they offered
me a veal steaks. I ask you, what’s the world coming to when
budget backpackers can afford veal?
 The
journey for today was two halves – before 2pm inland, to see some of
the lakes – Lake Birrabeen for lunch, a suntan session and a swim, followed
by a trip down to the Eurong, ready for the dash down the beach when
the tide started going out.
 Then
it was time for the long journey back down the main beach, to catch
the ferry home. The girls slept almost all of the way, reflecting the
exhausting time they’d had on the island, running around, climbing dunes
and swimming. Without a doubt, the trip to Fraser Island was one of
the highlights of our trip so far. For the lad in me, the chance to
drive a Land Rover 200 miles on sandy beaches, sandy roads and lumpy-bumpy
tracks was a hit; for the nature lover there we saw some great wildlife
on land and sea (but not, thank goodness, a brown snake); and for the
beach lover – well, the whitest beach in the world is definitely on
the shore of Lake McKenzie!
Fraser Island – Day Two
 We
woke up to a glorious morning –the sun was shining, and the ground was
dry. Although there had been some rain in the night, it hadn’t got any
of us wet, so we were all cheerful as we tucked into porridge and bacon
‘n eggs (we think that must be a proper camping breakfast) before settling
in to enjoy a day of touring. As the high tide was at 10 o’clock, it
meant that we couldn’t drive onto the beach until 2pm, which meant a
morning running around the camp, and on the nearby beach and sand dunes
(the dunes here are huge, with massive 75m dunes to run down. Charlotte
and Emily loved the downhill bit, but weren’t keen on the uphill side
of it).
 At
midday we drove to India Head, on the inland road, where we had a picnic
lunch and brewed a tea on the camp stove. After a short hike up the
hill, we were standing out on the headland and looking down into the
crystal clear ocean to see manta rays, turtles, sting rays, an enormous
school of fish that suddenly were surrounded by 5 sharks who had a feeding
frenzy and sent the school of fish swimming off in all directions. It
was so amazing to see and the clarity of the water made it seem as if
we were looking into an aquarium. We sat on the headland completely
enthralled by what we were seeing. Charlotte suddenly started jumping
up and screaming with delight – she’d just seen a shark eat a sting
ray!! Then to cap it all off, we saw humpback whales surfacing and then
breaching in front of us!! It seemed such an incredible feat considering
the huge size of these creatures. It was like watching a David Attenborough
film, it was so breathtaking. The whales were migrating south to Antarctica
after having had their calves up north in the warmer waters around Cairns.
It was an experience we’ll never forget.
 Then
we drove on down the beach, passing by the shipwreck of the SS Maheno.
It was too good a photo opportunity to miss – how often can you sit
on the bonnet of a Land Rover, driving past a shipwreck, on a 70 mile
beach?
 Further
south, we arrived at Eli Creek, which is a crystal clear freshwater
stream which runs down from the middle of the island, and hits the sea
on the main beach. You can walk on a boardwalk about 100M up the creek,
and then swim back down, through the tropical vegetation. It was the
ideal moment for the girls to try out their lilo, one of the extras
loaded into the campervan by Greg the Rental Man. The girls loved it
so much they ended up doing it 5 times. Charlotte said that she thought
Fraser Island was a kind of natural Disneyland, what with the water
rides, the jeep driving (“Just like Indiana Jones and the Temple of
Doom”) and the shipwrecks.
Finally we turned inland as dusk approached. We wanted to camp at Lake
McKenzie, which is the most beautiful, and popular, of the inland lakes
on the island (all with crystal clear water and white beaches), but
when we got there we discovered the campsite was full. So instead we
had a 10km night time drive to Central Station, where we arrived in
pitch black. Camping amateurs we may be, but within an hour we had the
tent up, the dinner cooked and eaten, and the girls asleep!
Last night’s camp had a fence around it, to keep out dingoes, but Central
Station doesn’t, so there were 3 or 4 dingoes roaming around the camp,
looking for food. It was just like Yosemite and the bears – all the
food had to go into lockers overnight. Fortunately living on campsites
means that the girls don’t want to go to the toilet in the night, so
it was another peaceful night!
Driving around Australia
Today we’re at Rainbow Beach, halfway up the
East coast of Australia – in fact, we’re almost exactly halfway on our
drive between Sydney and Cairns. We’ve driven 900 miles north in the
last two weeks, plus another 200 miles around Fraser Island (the fun
stuff...). And we’ve got about another 900 miles to go to get to Cairns,
where we’ll start to think about turning around and heading down south.
We’re going to be staying here for three nights, avoiding having to
pack up and move on every morning, before doing some serious driving
up the coast in order to reach Mission Beach by Wednesday night. It’s
about 800 miles north, and we’ve got to get there because that’s where
Charlotte’s birthday cards have been sent.
 Australia
is a lot larger than it looks on a map, and so driving distances tend
to be pretty large too (magnified in an underpowered, high sided camper
van – it’s not like driving a car the same distance). We found this
postcard which illustrates it pretty well – Australia to scale overlaid
onto a map of Europe. As you can see, we’re only attempting a small
part of Oz, from Sydney at the bottom of the east coast, to Cairns at
the top. For those people who wondered why we’re not going to Alice
Springs, maybe this tells the story! (Ah, but we may still go there,
after we’ve left the camper van and hired a 6 seater car instead, when
Sarah’s parents come out to visit) Each day we can drive about 200 miles
at the most, so it takes quite a few hops to get 2,000 miles. The roads
are pretty straightforward, very like driving at home – occasional stretches
of dual carriageway, but mostly single lane roads with overtaking lanes
built in every few miles. It means we’re rarely stuck behind anything,
and because the speed limit is pretty strictly enforced here, there
are very few times when cars are queuing up behind us waiting to overtake
(That’s sad – having a long line of cars behind me was one of the treats
I was looking forward to when driving a ‘caravan’!).
Caravan parks in Australia
Okay, there’s no avoiding it. I’m going to have
to talk about Caravan Parks. What has my life come to that I’m reduced
to this?
 Some
of the places we’ve stayed at have been pretty impressive – the park
we’re in at the moment, Rainbow Beach, has lots of tropical palms as
landscaping, lots of grass and good, clean toilets and showers. It’s
a bit inconvenient when you have to visit the toilets in the night with
one of the children, but we’ve programmed them carefully over the last
three months!
 The
park has a pool as well, which looks like the kind of thing you’d find
at a five star hotel (well, if you ignore the walk past the tents and
camper vans to get to it). In the background of this photo are the cabins,
which are the alternative to staying in a tent or caravan. The cabins
cost about AU$80-100 a night (£40), and have kitchens, bathrooms and
one or two bedrooms. Our camper van spot costs us AU$21 a night (£9),
which includes a power plug for the camper van (for the lights, fridge,
microwave and kettle etc), and a concrete pad alongside the van for
the awning (oh yes, we’ve got the works). And every site has a number
of communal barbecues with sink and picnic table, which is great for
warm evenings.
Some of the other sites we’ve stayed on haven’t been so luxurious. We’ve
learnt to try and avoid ‘Caravan Sites’ an instead head to ‘Tourist
Parks’. The tourist parks are just used by touring families, whereas
caravan parks are also used by people living there long-term. In many
ways, it’s a bit similar to mobile home parks in England. We’ve found
that they’re full of freshly divorced singles, and couples who’ve fallen
on hard times. And because they are staying long term, they build a
community on the park, and aren’t interested in the visitors to the
site – although you’re in the middle of lots of people, it can be a
bit lonely.
Mornings on caravan sites are a bit of a pyjama fashion parade, with
people wandering off to the toilets and showers in their pj’s. We’ve
seen some interesting brushed nylon ankle-length leopard print dressing
gowns as we open our curtains! And there’s an amazing correlation between
comb-overs and the tackiness of the caravans. No wonder each evening
we settle down with a glass of wine (well, actually a plastic beaker).
You may think that we’re being outrageously decadent with wine, but
it does come from the wine box that cost us the equivalent of 70p a
bottle (still, if we’ve got any left over we’ll be able to use it as
vinegar on fish and chips).
Finally getting closer
 We’re
involved in a bit of a mad dash ‘up north’ at the moment, to get to
Mission Beach in time for Charlotte’s birthday. That’s involved some
long days of driving, and we’ve driven 1,300 kilometres (about 800 miles)
in the last two days – which has meant most of the day in the van. The
girls have been amazing – settling down in the back to make dens, colour
and generally amuse each other. A sign of how well they are doing this
is that last night, at 4:30pm, Charlotte asked “When are we there?”
for the first time – after 10 hours of driving! And the bit we’re travelling
through is pretty boring, apart from the occasional roadside treat (?)
like the Big Mango. Yes, I know it’s not a great photo, but it was the
only thing worth photographing for all 800 miles!
We’ve now arrived in Townsville, 120 miles short of Mission Beach, and
we’re going to stay here for 2 nights before doing the last stretch
on Wednesday. I think we’re all relived to have a day of not travelling
– it means we don’t need to pack away/tie down/re-organise everything
inside the camper van first thing in the morning,
“Monday morning blues”
It has now been 16 weeks since I stopped work
to go travelling round the world. And I thought I’d mark the moment
by sharing with you some of the Monday morning blues that I’ve experienced
since then. (If you really want to know, then hover the mouse over
a picture, and it will tell you where that blue comes from)
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And you’ll notice that my Monday morning blues have been a little bit
different to ‘9-5 Monday morning blues’ since we starting travelling.
Water, water everywhere...and drought
Townsville is a pretty boring town – its main
attraction is the trips to the offshore islands, such as Magnetic Island,
and it acts as a bit of a gateway town. Oh, and curiously its also where
some of the World Cup Rugby matches are played, in the Dairy Farmers
Stadium – on Thursday night Japan play Fiji. We could get a family ticket
for AU$20 (£8) but unfortunately we’ll be up in Mission Beach for Charlotte’s
birthday, so we can’t go, even though we think it would be a great experience.
 But
the girls were over the moon in Townsville, because of the Wet Park
on the sea front. It’s a public facility built by the council, and consists
of a huge frame of pipes, hoses, sprays, water guns and other water
spouting features. As we’ve come so far north in such a short time,
we’ve noticed how the weather has gone from 20° to 30° in two days –
the days and nights are suddenly just a bit too warm. So the girls really
enjoyed playing around in the water park – Charlotte enjoyed it non-stop
for 3 hours.
 Charlotte’s
big thrill was the Big Bucket (oh yes, Townsville’s got its own ‘big’
thing too). This was basically a huge bucket on top of the frame, filled
by two big pipes. Every couple of minutes it tipped the entire contents
over whoever was standing underneath it. It was absolutely brilliant,
and Charlotte didn’t seem to get out from underneath it all afternoon.
With global warming perhaps we can look forward to some of these parks
being built in England (mind you, I don’t suppose the council will be
stumping up for them – c’mon Rick, chance to grab votes for the next
Parish Council election!).
Townsville is in the middle of a pretty serious drought at the moment,
caused by three very poor rainy seasons, but it doesn’t seem to stop
water being used like its going out of fashion. Sprinklers seem to be
used 3 hours a day on every patch of grass, and there are no outward
signs that the East Coast is fast running out of water. But out in the
country everything is dry as a bone – the only green you see is on the
eucalyptus trees, or in irrigated fields. The rest of the landscape
is just brown. I guess at some point Australia’s going to have a long
hard look at its fascination with sprinklers and green grass, but there
are no signs that its happening just yet. Two nights ago the campsite
we stayed in was in a fairly remote area, and the water situation there
was even more dire – drinking water came from rainwater, washing up
water came from a heavily depleted borehole, and water for sprinklers
and car washing came from recycled waste water. Maybe that’s a sign
of things to come in towns – using different sources of water for different
things.
Birthday Girl
 Today
was Charlotte’s 8th birthday. She’d been looking forward to it all month,
and counting down the days the minute she woke up each morning. So it
was no surprise when Charlotte woke up at 5 o’clock in the morning!
Our plan was to make the day last, with little surprises along the way,
and it meant a happy day for Charlotte. First of all she had the birthday
cards from us and Emily. Then the hostel reception gave her some birthday
cards that had arrived by post (we’d written home a few weeks ago with
the address of the hostel we were going to be in on her birthday). And
then she started on her presents, unwrapping them with glee.
 Then
it was down to the pool for a swim, before heading into town to pick
up her ‘Happy Birthday’ emails. When she got back, Sarah had transformed
the table for a birthday party, with Emily and the two other children
in the hostel, complete with banners, balloons, party plates and birthday
cake. And then, finally, at 5 o’clock the telephone rang and it was
her best friend from home, Oliver, calling to sing Happy Birthday to
her, followed by another phone call from her Nana and Opa. All in all,
a pretty good day to become eight, and not a trace of home-sickness
in sight!
The Treehouse, or is it “The Beach”
 For
the last three days we’ve been at the Treehouse hostel, in Mission Beach.
Its one of our favourite memories from last time we travelled around
the world, as we spent a blissful week relaxing and just enjoying the
views of rainforest from the decking. Days were spent walking on rainforest
trails and the evenings were spent playing Risk and Pictionary with
fellow travellers. It is always dangerous to go back to a place that
you have special memories of, because often you’ll find something completely
different awaiting you, but this time we found the Treehouse almost
completely untouched. We abandoned our campervan for a night, to spend
the night in a room in the house, and enjoyed the freedom of movement
(a real, big kitchen; not having to cook/wash up/sleep/dress in the
same 2.5m x 2m x 1.5m space etc).
 The
hostel also has a pool, an outside deck to eat on, a lounge full of
comfy chairs and bean bags, and hammocks hanging from every beam that
overlooks the pool. All in all it’s still a magical place, and we’d
recommend it as a stop on the trip up the coast. Mission Beach itself
is a laid-back, slightly hippy, town in the middle of lush rainforest
– a real shock to the system after hundreds of miles of dry semi-arid
landscape.
 The
only thing that was different about the Treehouse was the other hostellers
– when we were here last time there were half a dozen of us sharing
it, but this time the hostel was packed out – all the beds were full,
and there were half a dozen tents belonging to 12 backpackers in the
garden, and 6 backpackers sleeping in their vans & cars in the car park.
It made it quite frantic at meal times, to get space in the kitchen
and dining room. The other change was that it was now a definitive ‘hippy’
hostel, with lots of tie dye and braids in evidence. Many of those staying
were here long term – 12 weeks or more – which meant that definite cliques
had grown up. It was a relaxed place unless you wanted your own
CD on instead of the one chosen by the German hippie. In all the hostels
we’ve stayed in, and the places we’ve visited, it’s the one that’s reminded
us most of the community in “The Beach” (it even had a few Leondardo
to Caprio look-a-little-alikes). No doubt one of the tents in the garden
had a Swedish backpacker in it recovering from a shark bite...
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