Travel Biography - Week 85.

Preparing for the journey to where? Make up your mind!

In all, I spent four nights at Arlie Beach. The Oceania Resort was probably the best backpacker's hostel I stayed at in Australia. I had the dorm, equivalent to a private hotel room, throughout my stay there. At some time during the fifth day after arriving, I began the next leg of the journey south to Brisbane. At least, that was my original intention until I picked up some gossip about Hervey Bay and its ferry service to what was then Fraser Island, the world's largest sandbank. Still, at present, its name has returned to the original K'gari.

During one of the on-route service stops, I approached the driver, aware that I was about to annoy him, to ask for my rucksack to be switched from the Brisbane compartment of the hold to the Hervey Bay compartment. Indeed, the driver grumbled, but at least I wasn't on the receiving end of a torrent of verbal abuse, as I half-expected in laid-back Australia, as my request was seasoned with apologies. Seen as a nuisance by the driver, but nothing dramatic, my gear was switched to the appropriate luggage compartment of the bus whilst my destination was changed.

At Hervey Bay.

Dawn Sunrise at Hervey Bay Beach.

Approaching K'gari from the Ferry.

An unexpected Problem.

I arrived at Hervey Bay the next day, after 860 km, or 534 miles, one of the longest journeys in Australia. Hervey Bay was in the southern area of Queensland, and I had already gone past the southerly tip of the Great Barrier Reef. Furthermore, early after daybreak, the bus stopped at Rockhampton, the city where, nearby, the Tropic of Capricorn divided the Tropics from the Southern Hemisphere proper. Hervey Bay is the gateway to Fraser Island, or K'gari, with its famous feature, Lake McKenzie, the purest lake in the world and one of several scenes for the BBC series, Walking With Dinosaurs, a 1999 six-part nature documentary.

After alighting from the bus, I walked along the esplanade of a low-build town, with no skyscrapers, and with each building no higher than two storeys. Think of a typical settlement of the Old West, and Hervey Bay could have been seen as the Australian equivalent. Furthermore, the surrounding landscape was rather flat and uninteresting, and this would be one place I would have passed by had it not been for the world's largest sandbank. I came across one privately-owned unaffiliated backpacker's hostel and I managed to secure a bed in one of the dorms for the next three nights.

However, when it came to payment, I saw that I was at a sticky point - I had no more cash! Instead, I was stuck with a wad of US$ Traveller's Cheques I was unable to cash, as I normally did with ease, as all the banks were closed. If that particular day was a National Holiday, I couldn't figure out the reason for it. Fortunately, in 1997, I held an emergency Barclaycard credit card which was acceptable at the hostel reception. With that, I settled in, anxious and disappointed knowing that, after arriving home, I would be met with a credit statement. However, a couple of doors away from the hostel there was a hotel that cashed Traveller's Cheques. With hope of relief, I entered the hotel and asked about cheque cashing, showing my passport as proof of identity.

The male Aussie receptionist spoke with a rather gruff voice. 

Are you staying at this hotel? - as if expecting a negative answer, as this was the first time he ever saw me.

Er, no, sorry. I answered with some embarrassment.

Then I won't cash your cheques! We only do that for hotel residents. You're on your own, mate.

I then asked, What's special about today?

The fellow looked at me as if I was addled-headed. It's the Queen's Birthday!

I walked out of the hotel with a feeling of disgust. If I were a patriotic Englishman, as with this Aussie, chances were that I would have bowed a curtsy towards the ocean and apologise for forgetting to honour an individual who by pure luck had a very privileged birth. By heck! No wonder my father was a Republican, and I felt that I was heading the same way. Why must I get into debt halfway around the planet just because someone I had never met had a lucky entry into this world as a Royal? This was not only I found annoying, but I felt flustered, knowing that after rudely fobbing me off, this same receptionist would have trembled at his knees in blind admiration had Her Majesty passed by at a distance. My former determination to keep the entire holiday debt-free was thwarted over a birthday.

I spent the rest of the day exploring the town. It was originally a non-touristy settlement but has made some efforts to accommodate tourists, mainly to set foot on Fraser Island. I was careful with the spending, as I had only the credit card to live on until the next day.

The start of the Wangoobla Creek Trail.

Wangoogla Creek. Our trail follows it.

The trail continues along the forested creek.

As I found out, K'gari doesn't encourage lone hikers or visitors, and in 1997, as it is at present, visitors generally arrived in groups. Any one group hired a 4WD and allowed two nights of camping. The majority of backpackers used this method of travel across the island, as this was the closest to independent travel it gets. Therefore, on the first evening of arrival, we had our names called out after we all assembled at the hostel bar, including my name. We were each assigned to a group of six of us, with one of us in our group driving the 4WD. Private cars weren't allowed on the island.

I have wondered why there was a feeling of discouragement about lone hiking in K'gari, or Fraser Island. It was afterwards that I learned of the presence of dingos, wild dogs that inhabit the island. Generally, they were timid of human presence, but they were, and are, capable of attacking a human. In the past, visitors used to feed them treats, hence the dingo would, at times, go after a human in expectation of a treat, and was liable to become aggressive if no treat was forthcoming.

Nevertheless, I felt uncomfortable about being one of a group of six, and not even in charge of the vehicle (I never had a driving licence.) Looking around at the crowd, just about everybody was half my age and behaved accordingly. Besides that, as a loner and aware that I might not fit in, I approached the caller and asked for my name to be removed from the assigned group. Instead, a day tour was on offer, and I felt better off being part of one. Later that evening, I booked a place on the tour.

A Lone Hike at K'gari?

The next morning, we were driven to the harbour and boarded a ferry. Whilst on the ferry, I had mixed feelings. I disliked escorted tours and I was wondering whether I had made a mistake by withdrawing my name from the group of six, or had I done the right thing by joining a tour group instead. It would have been wise had I known about the BBC Travel Presenter Simon Reeve. On TV, he appears as a lone backpacker who has travelled around the world several times and has reached many inaccessible locations most of us would never think about visiting. But I tend to forget that he has a camera crew, a director, and a local guide to escort him around. Not quite the same with me.

Instead, I allowed the decision to play on my mind instead of admiring the mangroves flourishing on the first stretch of the island's coastline. I was wondering how everything would have turned out had I accompanied the other five fellows on the 4WD. I was too naive to think that, indeed, while someone else was driving the vehicle, I would have been on an escorted tour, the only difference was I might have had a say on where to go and what to see.

We landed on the island and we were led to a car park where a coach was waiting for us. However, I saw a trailhead nearby, and I actually asked our guide whether I could hike the trail if we could meet again elsewhere. I was expecting something like, Don't be silly, we must stick together as a group. But, to my surprise, he allowed me to set off on my own to do some solo hiking.

Obviously, he knew the island of K'gari far better than I did, and therefore he knew exactly where to find me. I might not have been the first to make a request of this kind. 

And so, I set off down the trail cutting through heavy tropical forest, very much like at Whitsunday Island. However, the trail began to parallel a creek as the path followed it. This was Wangoobla Creek, one of several freshwater streams that cross the sandbank. Other vegetation includes ferns, some have been growing and flourishing here, right next to the stream, for hundreds of years.

How long I have been hiking, I didn't time myself, nor did I measure the distance I covered. I must have been hiking for an hour, perhaps more, yet the creek flows peacefully through the thick forest without a hint of a break. I was also wondering whether the trail was leading where I really wanted to be, at Lake McKenzie, the most pure freshwater body in the world.

I saw my guide approach, as if he had either followed me, or he knew exactly where I was. Most likely the latter, as during that time, he must have led the rest of the group elsewhere. He then insisted on joining him to the coach which was nearby, off the trail. Okay, I did protest a little, as I wanted to go further, but I didn't argue. I boarded the coach and I actually stood in front and I chatted joyfully with the driver, who didn't seem to mind me standing there. Thus the laid-back attitude of this fascinating country.

After our talk, I made my way to the only vacant seat on the bus, which was next to a young lady named Christine, from Scandinavia. We chatted, and something of a friendship developed between us. As for Lake McKenzie, we were actually on our way there, and gradually I came to the realisation why the driver insisted on rejoining the group. It was quite a long drive to get to the lake, and there was no chance of me arriving on my own on time, even if I was on the right route.

Further through the forest, I hiked.

Lake McKenzie, Fraser Island, or K'gari.

Christine and I swam here (photo taken by her).

We arrived at the lake, the rich blue of the water's depth contrasting with the gold sand of pure silica forming its beach. Around 70 metres away from the lake, there was a bench overlooking the water. Although the guide gave us all an option to swim in the lake, only Christine and I made our way to the beach and entered the water. Everybody else remained sitting on the bench.

Christine, like most backpackers, was approximately half my age, and a stronger swimmer than I was, and she made her way to the middle of the lake. However, I wasn't too far behind, and I managed to enjoy the last open-water swim in Australia, as the route from Hervey Bay to Sydney was to be the "dry route." Afterwards, Christine and I wandered off along the lake's beach as we talked about our lives at home and what we had seen. Eventually, the guide called us back, as it was time to leave K'gari for the mainland.

At Hervey Bay, Christine and I parted with the hope that we would have good memories of each other as we moved on. The next day was my last day at Hervey Bay before the short journey to Brisbane.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Week: I arrive in Brisbane.