Then back to Cairns (via port Douglas so Emily could buy a throw-rug).
Sylvia had finished her dive course, but had not had a particularly good instruction company, or a particularly good time, which was such a shame.
We spent the next couple of days sorting out boring stuff….Syl did her taxes, and  I had to buy a flight ticket home, boo! But buy it I did. I now have, for the first time in nearly two years, a ticket back to Merry Old Englandland – but that wont be for a while, and not before visiting Figi!! (Stivver, I’ll get your sand!) 

My other Duthchie friends, Paul and Saskia, from Darwin had arrived in Cairns and I had directed them to our hostel, so the next day all four of us went to explore the Atherton Tablelands, the lovely green hills behind Cairns. Our first stop was the Cathedral Fig tree, an old tree encased in a strangler Fig, with its thousands of hanging roots falling from the branches above. We returned to Milla Milla, where I had been with E+J, and visited the pretty waterfalls around (no Rubi in the bushes though! – just Bush Turkeys). Another fig tree, the Curtain fig, had in the past fallen sideways into another tree, the dangling, vine like roots hanging like a curtain.
It then started to rain, in a big way! While we were driving we just pulled over and watched the lightning display. But it went as quickly as it came, and we made it to Yungaburra, where we booked into another great hostel, but more importantly, went in search of the local star attraction, the Platypus.

We found the quiet stream where they live, and in the drizzle sat patiently and watched. Saskia had her eyes on one spot where she could see the bottom, just incase one swam past. And amazingly, right where she had her eyes trained, one popped up. We all gasped in excitement, and then he immediately plopped back down and disappeared. We had a (strangely enjoyable) time waiting and watching along the river bank, we saw a few turtles bobbing about and a few fish, but no more Platypus (Platypii??)

Syl and I said farewell to Saskia en Paul the following day and made our way in land, and Syls first experience of driving in the hot outback. Our destination, Undara Lava tubes.

We arrived in what was the middle of nowhere, but were surprised to find quite an exclusive tour operation, with resort and campsite. We had missed the last tour to the tubes, so booked in for tomorrow, and enjoyed the campsite for the rest of the day.

There were kangaroos everywhere, just lazing in the shade of the Eucalyptus trees or lolloping about nibbling grass. A couple even had little joeys bouncing about. All to the sounds of Red Tailed Cockatoos and Kookaburras in the treetops. The Kookaburra makes the most fantastic laughing call (which is recognisable as the sound Hollywood movies use as jungle noise! No Kookaburras in any jungle anywhere! )

After a morning swim (with a thousand wasps) the next day, we joined our tour, complete with old, polite and eternally rambling tour guide. It was impossible to keep concentrating to what he was saying (which included the family history of the owners of the land, including wedding details…) but we reached the gorge of a collapsed section of lava tube and entered.

 Along the gorge we passed under a short covered section, then went along a tube proper. A large, uniform cave, with layered rock walls where the lava had melted and settled on numerous eruptions, and the drip and bubble of cooled liquid lava hanging off the walls. Very interesting, and a lot larger than I was expecting.

Then back to the campsite, and a walk to a look out over the outback landscape, where every single fly who lived there came to visit us, and brought along his cousin.
After two enjoyable nights at the campsite it was time to go, so we left (after Sylvia had honked the horn at a kanga in the road, and made him bound off straight into the swimming pool fence head first!).

We drove back to the Coast and turned south, to Mission (Impossible) Beach. There was a famed forest retreat here, but on closer examination it didn’t appear up to much and was majorly expensive, so instead we found the council campsite, right on the beach, for 5 bucks! Perfect! We celebrated our arrival with a beer on the beach – lovely.

The following day, we checked emails and located a good bakery, then went to one of the local forest trails, this time in search of a much larger beastie – the Cassowary. Extremely rare and as such well protected, many road signs warning that crashing into one is as dangerous for you as it is for it.
We set off along a very pleasant loop trail, but returned to the carpark before we knew it. Sylvia spotted another trail on the otherside of the road, this one looking much less travelled with much denser forest – excellent!
Unsure how long the trail was we had to decide when to turn around and head back. When Syl suggested, I begged for 5 more minutes. A couple of bends in the winding path later we both froze. Coming around the next bend, on the path, was a Cassowary! They are large Emu-like birds, with dark feathers, thick legs, a red wattle hanging from their long neck, with a boney crest on top of their blue head. They look truly prehistoric! And this one had a chick him (a 2 foot high ball of yellowy-brown fuzz on legs). 
Now a word on what the sign at the start of our walk told us – Cassowarys can be dangerous! And “if threatened, can use their clawed toes as weapons, jumping and kicking with both feet at once.” Especially when rearing chicks. If you face an oncoming Cassowary, “back away slowly and position a large object between you and the bird, such as a tree or a backpack.”
This one seemed pretty relaxed and walked around us into the bushes. The only problem was he walked back onto the path behind us (being alot easier walking). This was where we had to go to get back to the car. And he was in no rush. How do you follow a wild animal with out looking like you are hunting it? We followed him and the chick, in our least threatening way, at a respectable distance, Sylvia using me as a large object. Eventually (after having a sit down and a rest) he wandered far enough into the bushes that we could get past. Phew, in the clear, and back to the car – a bit of excitement, and an amazing creature!

We spent one more night in Mission (Impossible) Beach, then spent the next day driving south. We arrived in Townsville sooner than expected, and so looked into getting to Magnetic Island just off shore. It was totally possible, so after a quick shop, pack and ferry ride, we were there!
We stayed at Geoff’s Place Hostel which was just down the road from Bluey’s Horse ranch, which was Sylvia’s primary draw to the Island. She had seen in a few publications that they have jobs with the horses available all year round, for food and accommodation. Syl was ultra keen to work there for a week, and so had been in email cahoots with them, but it turns out they wont need anyone for the next 10 days or so – shucks!

She emailed one last time, and got a reply saying they needed someone to start tomorrow!

We walked down and had a chat to the Owner, who, very ubruptly, stated how bad the accommodation, and that she wont take anyone for less than 2 weeks. Syl agreed and got the job (she then had to phone and change her flight out of Australia by a few days to accommodate two weeks!)

We spent the rest of the day cycling on the Island, and went snorkelling from one of the great beaches; beautiful, crystal turquoise water with white sand.
Sylvia started the next day and discovered just how abrupt the owner could be, one of the girls working there said she would leave at the end of her 2 weeks, on Friday. “well, if that’s the case you can leave now!” Its just 2 weeks Syl told herself.

The job itself turned out to be brilliant, she was a guide on a tropical island, leading horserides through the forest to the beach for a gallop, then riding the horse into the warm water for a swim!

Meanwhile, I had to find something to occupy my time. I went for a couple of walks to more stunning beaches, and up to the highest hill, upon which was an old WWII fort complete with gun turrets. This was also native Koala habitat.
I had walked up with my head craned to the treetops, but saw nothing. On the way back down I had given up looking, but glanced to my side, only to see a half asleep ball of grey fuzz in the tree next to me. I sat and watched him for a while, half watching me, half dozing in eucalypt euphoria (apparently they are high on eucalypt leaves all the time!) and struggling to keep his arm from slipping off the branch with out waking up.

I then decided to check out one of the ‘must do’ things of the East coast, The Whitsunday Islands’. I was trying to figure out exactly why I ‘must do’ it at all, it seemed a very nice place, but the main emphasis was to take a sailing trip around them. I’m not all that excited about sailing, especially not on the rather cramped looking racing yachts most of the tours seemed to be. It didn’t appeal, until I saw the ‘Solway Lass’, a tall ship, complete with a dozen sails and all the Pirate ship air you can ask for!

I booked a three day, three night trip on her and drove down to Airlie Beach lickety-split!

I joined my crewmates the next day, and we boarded the ship in the evening, and made our acquaintances, with much excitement. It was a great ship, with comfortable bunks, and LOTS of food, and a rope swing –Brilliant!! I was going to be happy.
We set sail and left the harbour. Actually we didn’t set sail at all, but shunted along with the engine ( I struggle to find and appropriate verb here – We drove along? sailed along? …Oh, motored along, I guess)
We motored out, into the rather choppy sea, some people turning a bit green, and everyone coming in when the spray started coming on deck!
But we reached the islands and found a quiet inlet for the night. It was Halloween, and the 4 American students had come prepared and donned their pirate costumes. After the fantastic meal I was very close to making a Superman outfit out of an inside-out wetsuit, a pair of red undies and a towel, but (luckily) decided on the curly wig used as a beard, and Viking helmet from the resident costume box to become Posieden – slightly more nautical than Superman.

The next day we motored along one of the islands and dropped anchor and took the little tender to the land for a walk up to a lookout over Hill Inlet, the classic Whitsunday picture of dazzling turquoise rivulets over white, pure silica sand. We had a pretty cloudy day, but it was still impressively colourful!

Then we spent the afternoon on the pure silica of Whitehaven beach.
We then got the chance to head west, with the wind, and set sail! We set 8 sails, I got to pull on one of the many ropes and the centre sail went up (can’t remember its real name).
 Then sailed for a couple of relaxing hours as the islands drifted past, and the sun set ahead of us.

The next day was snorkelling day. We stopped at a couple of bays and got ferried over to the beach in the tender, and took to the water, complete with Stinger Suits!!

Lots of fishies and some spectacularly complex coral structures, and lots of fun. I was confirmed of the strange effect snorkelling has on me – it really makes me want to wee! I had to go 4 times in 2 hours!?

We watched the sunset from the beach, along with drinks and nibbles, before returning to the ship for a big roast dinner, and ice cream!

Our final day we walked to another look out, and then spent the rest of the day sailing back to harbour (everyone evry quiet) but not before a final play on the rope swing!
I was trying to perfect the double backwards somersault (but never quite managed it!) so instead took to the challenge set by the Captain – unfortunately it was not allowed for us landlubbers to climb the rigging and jump off masts and all that fun stuff, but he had mentioned we could get a guided tour if we managed to climb to the top of the swing using just our hands. It since turns out this is impossible, but I was up to give it a go!

I managed to get over half way, which was a long way up, much to the admiration of my crewmates! The drop back down wasn’t so elegant and I got a real nosefull of saltwater!

But then it was back to the Harbour and disembark after a good few days. We all congregated that evening in the hive of drinking hedonism that is Airlie Beach to say farewell.
I got a phonecall from Sylvia who was eager to find out when I was returning, and was relieved to find out that it would be tomorrow – then she can quit the job tomorrow too. It wasn’t two weeks, and she loved the time as a horse riding guide, but the people where too weird, and the situation too irresponsible.

So the next day I returned to Townsville, and found Sylvia waiting for me.

It was time to continue south and we drove the whole next day, to the Eungella national park, and aimed to the recommended Bush Camp (at one with nature –no electricity and frogs in the toilets). It was dark and just a bit too late, once we had set up tent, to check for wildlife, for this was another Platypus dwelling spot!

We woke early the next day (Platys are most active at dawn and dusk) but saw no action in the crystal clear creek.
We visited Hatton Finch Gorge, which was really just a rocky river, and had a wonderful walk through perfect rainforest and a swim in the clear, fresh pool at the Wheel of fire Falls (strange name for a waterfall).
On our walk back down we spotted a snake, just down hill from us below the path (bizarrley just as we were saying how few snakes we had seen in Oz!). He hadn’t noticed us, and we had a good few minutes watching him go about his business. He was a ‘Common Green Tree Snake’ according to the poster we saw later (probably the same as the one I saw at Cape Trib).

We drove to the next section of Eugella, up an incredibly steep road, to Broken River, home of the Platypii (puses?) we saw more rainforest, then had a coffee and a scone in a funny little tearoom while we waited for dusk.
And dusk came, and along with it, so did Platys! Three of them! They would appear briefly on the surface, then dive down in the dark water, leaving a faint trail of bubbles. They were busy for quite a while – very special!

Then another big driving day down towards Rockhampton.
Before a big driving day its is good to have an early morning swim, so when we got up we went to the pool. However it wasn’t too inviting with a small dead spider floating in it.
I got a palm frong and scooped the 5cm bundle up, but it soon became apparent he wasn’t as dead as I first thought. He started to flex, and then it became apparent he wasn’t as small as I first thought! He slowly expanded and stretched his rather thick, hairy legs out til I had something the size of a childs hand crawling towards me. I hastily put the palm frong down.
From another poster we reckon it was a ‘Barking’ or ‘Whisling’ Spider – Australias largest spider (although I didn’t hear him bark OR whistle.)

On our way to Rockhampton, we realised that the nearby Great Kepple island would be our last chance to live the tropical island life, so we aimed to the harbour at Yeppoon. It was unfeasibly expensive to stay on the island so we stayed in Yeppoon and went for a day trip the next day.
We had a very enjoyable day, on the very beautiful island, walking up a hill for a great view, then scrambling down to deserted Monkey beach for a snorkel.
We had our eye on the thunder cloud in the distance, and it slowly looked over us as we snorkelled. So we made tracks to the ferry, but it disipated and left quite a splendid sunset.

Back on the mainland we feasted on Pizza.