East Coast Expedition: At The End of The Rainbow; Onward To Noosa

Jan 28, 2011

I woke this morning groggy and tired. I wasn't visited in the night by an angel; rather, I was visited by the ghost of the Greyhound bus driver, clad in a worn blue uniform with socks up to his knees, who said that a Greyhound bus would be arriving at 9:30 a.m. that morning to pick me up and take me forward on my journey. So I reluctantly got up. After packing up my belongings, I went and found my beloved Dream Team children to say goodbye. I was dreading this parting. The nine of us had such an amazing time together on Fraser Island, I didn't want the fun to end. I had developed a special bond with those youngsters, especially with the E-team, and was super sad to part with them. This is when the the song "It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday" (A Boyz II Men classic) begins to play. "And I'll take with me the memories, to be my sunshine after the rain. It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday." Man, this blog needs a soundtrack. There's always a song that perfectly conveys the emotions and moods of the moments I'm telling. TV and movies use music for this effect; why shouldn't my blog too?

The ghost of the Greyhound bus driver spoke the truth; the big red bus appeared at 9:30 sharp to take me away. "By Speersy!" the Dream Team shouted, waving farewell. I climbed on the bus with sad puppy eyes and a frown, staring out the window longingly at my travel family the way a 5-year-old stares at him mother teary-eyed as the school bus carries him off to his first day of kindergarten. I cried myself to sleep on that Greyhound bus. Ok, now I'm being over dramatic and a tad exaggerative. But my heart was crying inside, and I did sleep the entire bus ride to Noosa, which I had decided would be my next stop on this whirlwind trip. On the way we stopped for a break at a rest stop which just happened to be the famed location of Rooey II, the Big Kangaroo. This big thing was bigger and better than any big thing I had seen thus far, mainly because Miss Rooey II moved. Oh yes, she batted her eyes, twirled her head and wiggled her ears like the diva kangaroo that she was. And it frightened the daylight out of me because I wasn't expecting the giant, plastic kangaroo before me to move. I thought I was hallucinating at first because Rooey II would move and then freeze for a long period of time before moving again. But other bus passengers confirmed that she was indeed moving, making me sane and Rooey II the coolest big thing I had ever seen.

Miss Rooey II

Oh, real quick: there's one thing I forgot to mention about Fraser Island that I actually hated- the march flies (also know as horse flies). There were a gazillion march flies on Fraser Island. They were huge compared to your standard fly, about the size of a quarter, and they loved to feed on our human blood. When we weren't warding off dingos, we were swatting, catching and killing the march flies that parked themselves all over our bodies. There was never a moment when a march fly was not perched on me during the day. The only time I was freed of their terrible annoyance and painful bites was at night or when I was swimming. Those big suckers brought a whole new meaning to the song "Shoo fly, don't bother me." I became an exceptional march fly assassin. Kit and I had a competition going to see who could take down more. Need I say I won? I am not proud of this victory, but it was the only way of maintaining my sanity. Why can't dingos prey on march flies? Then I wouldn't have to grapple with the moral issues of killing flies.

Fortunately, there were no march flies or dingos in Noosa, which is known worldwide for its spectacular beaches (so they claim). I had heard that Noosa was a lovely place, but that it was ritzy and glitzy compared to other coastal surf towns. Word in the airplane magazine was that it is a favorite spot of many Australian and international celebrities. So I decided to check it out for myself. The verdict? Noosa was nice indeed. It was a tidy, well-kept and put together town that was situated along a beautiful stretch of beach. It had a Cape Cod meets Miami feel, with lots of shops, cafes and restaurants lining the architecturally appealing streets. I liked it. I liked it a lot.

Noosa

Shortly after I arrived in Noosa, my dear sandal broke. I watched in horror as the strap that held my foot in place snapped right off.  I had been dreading this moment. That strap had been hanging on be a mere thread for weeks now. These sturdy sandals had carried me across New Zealand and Australia on my numerous adventures without so much as a wine, whimper or complaint. Understandably, they were tired and worn. And now, they were finished. They also happened to be the only sandals I had. Thus I spent my afternoon strolling the streets of Noosa looking for a cheap and comfy replacement. I'm sure I looked awkward to onlookers with my lopsided gait as I dragged my right foot along trying to keep the broken sandal on with clenched toes. Eventually I found footwear that met my requirements: an ugly pair of white flip flops that said "Frangipani" in bold black lettering all over them. At the time I didn't even know what frangipani was, and I hoped as I handed the cashier my crumpled dollars that it wasn't some cult or offensive slang word that was going to get me beat up for wearing. I learned later that a frangipani is a flower. I don't know which is a worse fashion offense: wearing flip flops with the name of a flower or curse words written all over them. But this wasn't about having fabulous looking feet, it was about functionality and these frangipani flip flops did just the trick.

Frangipanis

After two hours I had pretty much seen all of Noosa that I cared too. My mind kept drifting back to the offer Mick had made to sail the Whitsunday Islands as a volunteer on the Tongarra. Maybe it wasn't too late to accept this offer, I wondered. I found a pay phone and gave Andy, the travel guy who was on the original trip with me, a call. He worked for the company that schedules and coordinates Tongarra's trips, so I figured he could help this sister out. Plus, he was the only person whose contact information I had. To my delight, Andy answered the phone and was elated to learn I was the voice on the other end. I asked him if he thought I could volunteer on the Tongarra if I returned to Airlie Beach. He didn't see why not. He said that he would talk to Mick about it and that I should give him a call once I was in Airlie. I hung up the phone and clapped my hands happily. Operation "Get back on the Tongarra" was in motion! Maybe I could have my cake and eat it too. Maybe I hadn't blown my one opportunity to sail the Whitsundays again for free. Of course, I realized that I hadn't received a definite YES from Andy. There was the chance that Mick and his superiors would say "Sorry Charlie, that ship sailed without you. Better luck next time." But I was bored with Noosa, my back was practically broken from lugging around my heavy bags, and there was no where else between here and Sydney that I was dying to see. So I figured, why not? Plus, the E-team and Patrick were currently on their way to Airlie Beach, making this a win-win situation. Even if I couldn't volunteer on Tongarra, I would get to see my beloved kids again. In my eyes, that was a best case scenario itself.

So I hopped on a bus to Brisbane, one of Australia's major cities. From there I would figure out the best means to get back up to Airlie Beach. I wasn't sure what to expect in Brisbane because it had recently endured the worst flooding disaster to date in Australia. People at home tell me it was international news, so you may recall hearing about it. By this time the flood waters had drained back into the Brisbane river, but there was still excessive water damage to buildings and properties. However, the city was up and running again from what I had been told by other travelers. It was late when I arrived to the city. Had I not known there had been a disastrous flood just weeks prior I wouldn't have even known. It looked unscathed. I hiked up a few blocks and checked into the first hostel I could find. I was tired, having not re-cooperated fully from the prior night's festivities on Rainbow Beach, and hungry. I ordered a $7.00 apple and pork burger from the hostel bar and crossed my fingers that it would be edible. Ladies and gentlemen, it was one of the tastiest things I ate in Australia. So tasty that I felt compelled to tell you about it because a) I love food and b) I love cheap, good food. It's a shame I can't remember the hostel name. Evidently, the hostel was forgettable but it's food made a lasting impression.