An Incredible Coincidence? A Miracle of Some Kind?
Note: All pics posted here are my own, taken in 1997.
On the route from Cairns to Sydney, the second stop was at Townsville to spend a day on Magnetic Island. I spent three days and nights in Queensland's second-largest city after Brisbane. On the morning of the fourth day, I boarded the Greyhound Bus for my next chosen destination, Arlie Beach. This resort is 274 km or 170 miles further south along the Queensland Coast. Unlike most interstate bus journeys which were usually done overnight, this leg of the Indo-Pacific coast of Australia was a daytime journey.
The journey commenced around mid-morning to arrive at Arlie Beach by teatime before pressing on to Brisbane. However, barely into the journey, I was then surprised when the bus suddenly turned off the main A1 route onto an unclassified road. The road ended at a car park serving what was a newly opened wildlife enclosure, the family-owned Billabong Wildlife Sanctuary, a few miles south of Townsville.
Koala Bear, Billabong Sanctuary. |
A Wallaby, Billabong Sanctuary. |
Wallabies are related to the Kangaroo. |
The driver gave us thirty minutes, the timeslot pattern common to all escorted tours. Whether all in the bus alighted or just a few of us, there weren't many of us at the sanctuary. A sanctuary is different from a zoo. Where in the zoo, all the animals are caged as living exhibits and kept separate from the viewing public. In this sanctuary, it's hands-on. This includes the Koala Bear, a native of Australia. I was allowed to approach it as it clung to a branch and stroke its back. Others at different times were even more fortunate. For example, after arriving at YHA Brisbane, a Chinese backpacker showed me a photo he had taken by a sanctuary staff member with probably the same bear clinging to his chest and looking into the camera.
Nearby was an open yard which accommodated several Wallabies. These marsupials are related to the better-known indigenous mammal, the Kangaroo, or Roo for short. Although the Wallabies resemble the Roos, they are generally smaller in size, otherwise exhibit very much the same features. I stood in the yard with a couple of them without any barrier between us. I was wondering how they would have reacted had I got too close. However, they remained senile as I enjoyed being in their company, that is until our bus driver called us back to resume the journey south.
As with all interstate journeys, there was an hour's service stop roughly halfway along the route. During these stops, we all sat at the station cafeteria. We refreshed ourselves with food that was forbidden on these scrupulously clean coaches whilst the vehicle itself was serviced and refuelled. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the stop. I sat alone at a table, as I had always preferred to sit at a table for one. However, whilst our bus was serviced, another bus pulled in. It was travelling in the opposite direction, that is, from Arlie Beach to Townsville. Like with us, all its passengers made their way to the station cafeteria.
Then, a short time later, I heard my name called.
"Frank!"
Here am I, on the other side of the world, and furthermore, the most faraway location from home I could ever be, and I hear my name called. Nobody was supposed to know me! I thought I got away from everyone familiar.
I looked up and saw another backpacker standing over me as I remained seated. I didn't recognise him, and so, I saw him as another stranger. But he certainly knew who I was. As I looked up, puzzled, he was urging.
"Don't you remember me? Back at the hostel in St Louis two years ago? I called you a crazy Englishman, and I gave you my map of the States whilst we were in the hostel kitchen!"*
"The Huckleberry Finn Hostel in St Louis, Missouri?" I asked.
"Yes, that's right! You remember me!"
Then I realised that this was James, the backpacker I met at the Missouri hostel. Apparently, he had the same idea to backpack Australia as I did. Although we talked further, I still wonder when, where, and how he got his idea to visit Australia (he was from Germany.) With me, it was from sharing a hostel room with an Australian builder in San Diego, who encouraged me to see for myself.
At the Oceania Backpacker's Hostel, Arlie Beach. |
Mangroves at Arlie Beach. |
A Mangrove at Arlie Beach. |
Eventually, we made our way to our buses ready to depart. That was the last I saw of James (the name I referred him to, as I never asked what his real name was.) He headed north, and I headed south.
Arrival at Arlie Beach.
By evening, the bus pulled into the bus station. Outside was a field with a row of booths lined up. Each booth represented a hostel in the town. I could have chosen the YHA representative, but instead, another booth looked more appealing. This was for the Oceania Backpacker's Resort, and I befriended its rep, who I found out was Ben. He took me, along with a couple of others from our bus, to his lovely setting.
I was the last in our small group to be served, and it looked to have been on purpose. Whilst the other backpackers were assigned beds in already-packed dormitories, instead, Ben offered me a choice. For a small increase in the fees, I could have a room for myself. I jumped at the opportunity.
Actually, what I was assigned was an empty dormitory with two or three other beds, all vacant. And Ben had kept his word with the fee increase. Throughout my four-night stay, nobody else entered to use any of the other beds. I had the whole room to myself throughout the stay. I also made use of the outdoor swimming pool. Then again, only at certain times. The pool was also the venue for a diving school to train novice divers and first graders.
Arlie Beach with its companion town of Cannonvale was far more touristy than Townsville. The beach itself consists of a 200-metre-long crescent of sand set between two promontaries. The one to the west of the beach is the base for the Coral Sea Marina, where boats for the Whitsunday Islands leave and arrive, along with boats for hire. The eastern headland houses the Boat Haven harbour, and the presence of what looks like an artificial beach (Boathaven Beach) facing north, and a building located on the "forehead" forming the "eye" gives the whole layout a resemblance to the open mouth of a ferocious beast when seen from the air or on Google Maps.
Although Woody Island of the Low Isles was covered with mangrove trees, it was at Arlie Beach where I came face-to-face with a mangrove. This includes one of the beaches where mangrove trees grew out of the sea at the tidal zone. When the tide is out, the tree appears to be standing on its legs. When the tide is in, only the trunk appears above water, and on a king tide, some of the lower branches may also be submerged.
Mangrove trees were, to me, the most fascinating variety of tropical vegetation I have ever seen. There were several species of mangrove. Further south, the River Brisbane had mangroves growing on its edge, but they looked different from those at Arlie Beach, as they were more stunted. Australia was the only country in the world where I saw mangroves. Along with the mangroves, Arlie Beach also boasted a bathing enclosure to keep swimmers safe from the stingers (Box Jellyfish). As with the one at Townsville, this one looked equally unconvincing.
Back at the hostel, I made dinner at the member's kitchen, then ate in the dining room. But it was afterwards when others gathered in the lounge and lively games room, where "I got unstuck."
Ben appeared, his hair still damp from a recent shower. Nearby was a vacant table tennis unit complete with ping pong and two bats. Ben was curious to give table tennis a shot, as he had not played the game before. I have and I offered him a game.
It was a challenging game for both of us, and we were neck-and-neck with the score. Ben looked delighted, as this was his first time (so he says) holding a tennis bat. However, I was pipped at the line, and it was he who won the game after nudging ahead. Like any good sportsman, I smiled and wished him well. But after that, I sauntered to my lonely bed, made a cup of tea, and sulked.
Arlie Beach Esplanade. |
Stinger Protection Barrier, Arlie Beach. |
I stand by a Mangrove Tree to give the scale. |
I looked back at my sporting life. In school, I have always been a failure at sports, especially in games involving a ball. Squash may be the exception, as I have won a couple of games although lost on a majority of them. If there was any brightness in competitive sports, then it was in the form of cycling in the 1991 Swanage Triathlon, as recorded in Week 46 of this Biography.
But bad memories of school football and rugby returned as I sat on the bed. Memories of ostracisation by the team, and suffering bullying played on my mind. Years later, I still couldn't even beat a novice at table tennis. Here I was, on an independent Round-the-World journey, a person with incredibly good fortune in the realm of Travel, and going places where many would only dream about - sulking over losing a game to a novice. But that's not the end of it. Wait until I arrive at Coffs Harbour in New South Wales. I was close to tears after I was thrashed at the pool table. But why the emotion? More on that later.
Perhaps you may think that winning or losing a casual game has little or no effect on the ego. I beg to differ. Maybe, had I won many contests and lost only a few, such reasoning might have some validity. But if, as with me, it's the other way round, then to lose a game, especially to a novice, is a bit like handling a scorpion. It has a sting in its tail. Fortunately, I was able to recover quickly. This is a great place to stay and I have the whole dorm to myself. But one of the main reasons why I chose Arlie Beach as a stop-on route to Sydney was to visit the Whitsunday Islands, an archipelago of continental Islands off the mainland coast. And I have already inquired about day trips out to these islands. One cruise offered snorkelling over the fringe reefs of one of the islands. Making a booking wasn't difficult.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*For a read of my 1995 original encounter with James, click here
Next Week: A visit to Whitsunday Islands.
Dear Frank,
ReplyDeleteSmall world! Your encounter with your previous traveling companion reminded me of two such experiences we had while traveling. The first was in Hong Kong, where Richard and I were performing in a show, before we were saved. Our first number was a tribute to Marilyn Monroe, and I was dressed and made up accordingly. While we were changing for our second number, there was a knock on the door, with the message that a grade school classmate of mine was in the audience. Here she was, across the globe from where we grew up, and she recognized me despite the "Marilyn" getup!
The second such experience was in Ireland, Conor Pass on a mountaintop between Tralee and Dingle. As we admired the view, a nearby traveler asked if we were from the US. After further conversation, it turned out that we both lived in the same small town in Florida, only a few blocks apart! We had never met back home, but here we were meeting in Europe!
May God bless you and Alex,
Laurie
Hi Frank, what a lovely post. You may say that you were not very good at sport, but your ability for writing is amazing, and the pictures you have put up are lovely. God bless you and Alex.
ReplyDeletewow pleas more more more then good these are and the others as well keep it up
ReplyDelete