Travel Biography - Week 86.

A Review of Hervey Bay, Queensland.

All photos here are my own, taken in 1997.

Hervey Bay, a town where all buildings were, at most, two storeys high, and surrounded by flat, featureless countryside, I placed low on the list of special interest, in contrast to Port Douglas, Cairns, and Arlie Beach. However, since the resort serves as a gateway to the sandbank island of K'gari, the former Fraser Island, by 1997, it became a major attraction for backpackers and tourists. 

Queen Street, Brisbane.

Night view of Brisbane from the Parklands.

On the same day that I arrived at Hervey Bay, it was a public holiday. I was unaware of that until I discovered that I had used up almost all my money received from the encashment of the latest traveller's cheque. Fortunately for the moment, after discovering that all the banks in town were shut, I resorted to the emergency-only credit card. I was disappointed. This meant that when I arrived home several weeks later, I was met with a credit statement among the pile of unopened mail on the floor. And that was one issue I was determined to avoid when I planned the whole trip.

I found out the reason for the holiday. It was the Queen's official birthday. This came as a shock, as far as I was aware, in Britain, which is the seat of her throne, there never was a public holiday marking her birth. Furthermore, it wasn't even her actual birthday. That was April 21st. Here in Australia, we were well into June. It goes to show how keen Australians were in clinging to the Empire's colonial past, whilst in England, undergraduates in particular are attempting to shake off Britain's imperialism as a source of shame. Indeed, international Travel can be so illuminating, especially between cultures.

And so, my final night at the hostel arrived. That evening, I made my way to the bar and ordered a drink, a half-litre of ale. A full litre of ale was also served, and this seemed to be popular with these twenty-somethings who began to congregate at the bar with background music. Perhaps I had made a wise decision when I chose a day tour on K'gari instead of the 3-day 4WD in a group of six, all so much younger than I was. The lone hike I took through the rainforest for over an hour, maybe as long as ninety minutes, had made the trip a challenging yet worthwhile experience. By contrast, I didn't feel that much at home in this party atmosphere, yet, I remained in the bar to socialise. 

As the evening progressed, the music was turned up, and alcohol-induced backpackers started to dance more wildly. I was thinking: What a contrast this unaffiliated hostel was to the YHA-affiliated. The latter had a games room and a TV room, but generally, quietness was the rule of thumb, as there may be those who wanted a quiet read or even to study.

In the spacious bar, there were several sturdy picnic tables, each with a built-in bench on each side. These are generally heavy outdoor furniture, instead, their sturdiness meant that each one served as a raised dance floor or a stage where the dancers showed off their performance. As mostly young men piled onto the tables to the beat of the music, it looked as if an accident was waiting to happen, and I was hoping that no one would fall off and suffer a fracture. I was relieved when, later in the night, a staff member turned off the music and sent us all to our dorms. The sudden metamorphosis from loud party noise to library silence within less than a minute was remarkable.

On to Brisbane.

The next day, I set off for the next leg of the journey south. This was to be a much shorter journey than the previous leg, covering a distance of nearly 300 km or 185 miles. It took about five hours, including the service break, to arrive at Queensland's capital and final stop before crossing into New South Wales.

After arrival, I was advised at the station information desk of a YHA hostel on Roma Street. After finding the hostel, I was allocated a bed in one of its spacious dorms. Also, from this point, I began to take advantage of the newly thought-up Book-a-Bed-Ahead scheme, unique to YHA-affiliated hostels. Having a bed reserved for the next hostel before leaving the present one seems a good idea, and saves the hassle of bed-hunting after arriving at a chosen location, something I've been doing since the day I took off from London for Singapore.

After settling at the hostel and restocking, I made my way along Roma Street until I arrived at the combined Roma Street Railway and Bus Stations. From there, I walked into town and arrived at Anzac Square which has the Eternal Flame War Memorial.

A Floor at Myers Dept Store.

Dragon Roller Coaster at Tops, Brisbane.

It was around tea time when I arrived at the Square. And for the first time since Singapore, or for the first time ever in Australia, I saw some men in their thirties loitering around the square, each wearing a business suit and tie. I was affected by the cultural difference between the Brisbane financial centre and the laid-back culture of Cairns and Port Douglas that was all to do with the Great Barrier Reef. Furthermore, it wasn't cold, as this was the subtropics, and although it was "winter", the temperature must have been in the region of 25 degrees Celsius or over. The effect these businessmen had on me might have led to a nightmarish dream I had in the coming night. I never forgot it.

I dreamt that I was in Brisbane, and realised that I had to take an urgent flight to London, but to stay in London just for a few hours to complete some business at Victoria Street before boarding the plane back to Brisbane to resume the holiday. However, in the dream, I found out that once in the UK, I couldn't fly back to Brisbane, so, I was stuck in my home country, therefore cutting the holiday drastically short.

I woke up, gasping for breath, in the hostel dorm in Brisbane. When I realised it was all a dream, I felt a rush of relief. But what was odd about the dream was that I had exactly the same dream three years earlier in 1994, while I was a volunteer in Israel. Furthermore, in both dreams, I saw the same London location, Victoria Street, the through road from Victoria Station to Parliament Square.

About Brisbane.

Brisbane, being the capital of Queensland, is the State's largest city with its own Queensland Parliament. It's the home of various chief banks and a financial centre. Geographically, it sits on the River Brisbane, and the city centre is several miles inland from the coast. The river itself takes a series of bends within the city limits, and these bends could resemble the letter M intersecting with the letter W. The city centre itself, where I stayed and where I became familiar, is in the form of a triangle wedged either within the upper "v" of the M or the left "v" of the W, depending on your visual perception. The main shopping precinct is Queen Street, and it was here where I spent some time, including visiting the Myers department store. It had several floors, but the upper floor was named Tops, and unlike all the other floors in the store, Tops housed an indoor roller coaster, a small Ferris Wheel, and some pool tables.

I thought that the top floor fun fair and gaming room was a brilliant idea, suited for a family out on a weekly shopping trip. The wife and mother do the shopping whilst the husband and father are engaged with his teenage son playing a game of snooker or pool, whilst the younger child rides the roller coaster. Indeed, Tops takes the family's boredom away from the weekly shopping spree! Why didn't we in Britain think of something like that?

There were two parks that I became familiar with. One of them, within the city centre, was the Botanical Gardens. Unfortunately, all the flower beds were out of season, thus, all I saw were bare patches of soil surrounded by manicured lawns. However, the gardens back onto the River Brisbane, and here, Mangroves grew and flourished at the river edge. In 1997, there was a boardwalk lining the embankment, and from it, I watched the river water lap at the exposed mangrove roots which, among them, had a high population of small crabs. I would spend hours leaning on the boardwalk railings and watching those crustaceans crawl sidewards as each made its way to where it wanted to go.

The other venue where I spent time was the South Bank Parklands, which was accessible across the river and a walk along Victoria Bridge. One unusual feature of the Parklands was the presence of an artificial beach fronting a bathing lagoon, not unlike the modern one at Cairns. However, I never got around to swimming in the lagoon, despite looking very attractive in warm weather. The journey from Brisbane to Sydney was what I call "the dry route" where I only got wet in the hostel shower. However, once in Sydney, I did try out the shambolic rooftop sauna suite, where I even had to turn on the sauna heater and wait until the cabin was warm enough to bathe in.

The Boy Within Revived.

Included in this week's blog post is a photo I took of the indoor roller coaster at Tops. For a long time, I stood on the veranda and watched the dragon-headed coaster giving rides to families. While I was watching, I was also pondering - how prattish would I look if I, a man in his forties, were to ride on such a contraption? Yet, why should I keep my desire bottled up just so someone doesn't see me in such a predicament and laugh?

Botanical Gardens, Brisbane.

At the Mangrove Boardwalk, Botanical Gardens.

Eventually, after much turning in my mind, I headed towards the coaster station and paid for a ride. When the coaster stopped, I climbed on board and settled down. Who cares what other people may think? I was a visitor in Brisbane and nobody would know me, surely.

The coaster completed two laps of the circuit with the extra thrill of flying through the station without stopping. I was surprised at how "gutsy" the ride was, and as I alighted afterwards, I felt that going for the ride was the right decision. I turned and looked towards the games room. Two young men were busy at one of the pool tables, playing their game seriously, and compared to them, I indeed felt childish.

This "Boy in the Man" psychology is nothing new. Even at Arlie Beach, during a spare afternoon, I came across a swing park, and I spent some time on one of the swings, arching high as I felt exuberant! Perhaps I'm no different from those featured in stories I have read about. A man rolls down a steep hill at night in a shopping trolley, a police officer slides down a children's helter-skelter when he thought no one was looking, a father takes his son's model aeroplane and flies it at night at the beach - and loses it forever. And so the plethora of true stories goes on.

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

Next Week: More About Brisbane.

Travel Biography - Week 83

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.