Running down the coast

DAY 4
Location: Wongaling/Townsville
Temp: 20 C or so?
Weather: Sunny, humid
Activities: Finally moving down the coast from Cairns, beach exploration, Travel Bugs impromptu planning, Navigating Townsville at night
Accommodation: Reef Lodge

Let me state straight off this post was accidentally deleted well over two months ago while I was trying to edit another post. Oops! So yes, I'll be reconstructing this one from memory, but I remember this day well as my "What the hell am I doing?" day.

I got up before dawn at Tropic Days, quietly trying to make myself breakfast in a pitch kitchen. I decided against packing up in the hot room and waking my neighbors and hauled everything out to one of the empty tables to pack.

The second the reception opened, I returned my key, threw my backpack over my shoulders, and lugged my belongings for the 20-minute walk to Cairns proper. I had to make the early bus and I wanted to be sure I had enough time to make the walk with elbowroom if I got lost. I didn't with the map Tropic Days provided for the bus stop. I distinctly remember my backpack being unmanageable until I released the shoulder straps to let the majority of the weight rest on my hips. Either way, I was sweating by the time I reached the stop where a small hoard of other backpackers were waiting.

Maybe it's just procedure in Cairns, but the Greyhound here was strict. There was careful ticket scrutiny, checklists, and assigned seating and this framed what I thought to be the whole trip down the coast--but it was just for Cairns. The seats were a bit narrow and packed close together, but I had the bench to myself and a foot rest to prop my feet on.

It was about five hours to Mission Beach but the stop was actually south of town in a place called Wongaling Beach. I remember getting off the bus and wondering what obscure place I'd decided to pause for lunch as I gawked at a giant cassowary statue. At this point I was playing my trip by ear; very much a game of location and opportunity in my lodging and activities--a stressful way to go in hindsight. And it was here, in Wongaling Beach, my first stop on the sprint down from Cairns, that I was already starting to second guess myself, my actions, my motives for this trip.

Looking to stave off the uncertainty, I meandered into the Adventure Travel Bugs agency with a mind to ask where Mission Beach was and ended up getting a personal tourism and booking guide to layout my entire trip. For free. Maybe I came in looking exactly the part of Lost American and she took pity on me. She asked me where I was from, where I heading, what my plans were and I stumbled on delivering the execution of my haphazard itinerary so she got me a bottle of water, sat me down, and plotted point by point every aspect of the following weeks. She printed a calender and spent a solid hour with me recommending activities to do including Magnetic Island, the Whitsundays, and Fraser Island and got me some great deals, looking up hostels that catered to my needs (free WiFi and food where applicable) on the cheap, calling agents and receptions to make bookings, then aligning my bus schedule to fit it all.

Her name was Carolyn and I really have her to thank for making my trip down to Sydney as action-packed an adventure as possible. Thank you, Carolyn!

With my affairs in order, bookings in hand, and some of my stress alleviated, I asked for a place to eat and Carolyn told me there was a Wooly's right around the corner. She told me I could leave my backpack with her and off I went in search of food. I wandered Woolworth's a bit and quailed again at the cost of Aussie groceries but eventually settled on a warm box of a dozen mini-wings for $2. That was my lunch.

I took this shot to remind myself where I was and just how to spell the place. I stumbled over a lot of the Australian names.

After lunch, I headed for the beach and tried to see if I could make the walk to Mission Beach. The tropical foliage, sunny skies, and warm weather reminded me of home and I had to remind myself that no, I'm still in Australia. I walked along the beach until I came to an inlet that I deemed impassable because this was where I would habit if I was a crocodile. I tried to peer into the rusty water to spot some and grew more unwary when I didn't. I gave the water's edge a respectable berth and went back the way I came.

Wongaling Beach was picturesque. I would have been tempted to swim if not for the threat of crocodiles and box jellyfish.

I was treated to a sight of skydivers ripping over the water to land on the beach. I was certain a few would crash into the sea but they skimmed right over it like pros. I spoke with a few that walked back to their skydiving building and they were all smiles coming down from that high.

I returned to Travel Bugs to take advantage of their free internet and kill time waiting for the bus. i thanked Carolyn again for her help before going on my way. 

I was back on the Greyhound around 3 p.m. and on my way to Townsville. It was dark by the time we arrived and before I could panic on where I was supposed to go, I saw the Reef Lodge go past and tried to memorize the roads I would have to walk to return. I hit the ground running, so to speak, eager to get off the street as soon as possible in this big town and successfully found my street and the hostel.

But my time at Reef Lodge was immediately tainted when I came upon a locked door to reception. I rang once, waited what I felt was a reasonable amount of time before ringing again, and was greeted by a surly receptionist who said: "You only have to ring once." No, pleasant evening greeting or welcome, just a terse gibe. And he was snide for the whole check-in process. I got the feel that this place was skeptical and suspicious of its patrons and eager to punish. If you didn't check out a certain way--you would be fined. Didn't do your dishes? Fined. Didn't go to sleep at curfew? Fined. Wow, really? What are we, teenagers?

Walking into my room confirmed that.

I got stuck with the top bunk at the Reef Lodge hostel. There's all my things!

This was my view from the room. We were literally right off the street.

I was bunked with a couple young German girls who had their things strewn everywhere. I mean everywhere. I had to pick my way over the floor. And, having arrived so late, I was stuck with a top bunk. 

Tired and hungry, I made my way to the kitchens to whip up some Ramen and the other hostel guests were so unfriendly. It seemed like there was a tacit fight for space, cutlery, utensils; nothing polite about elbowing their way to the oven if I was standing in the way. I sat alone, ate alone, washed alone, and I got tired of that atmosphere. 

The communal bathrooms were a bit of a shock too. I fretted the boys would try to peek at me over the walls while I showered, so I was in and out rather quickly. When I got back to the room I collapsed into the bed and surprised the German girls took the hint to turn out the lights.

I remember why I wasn't in a rush to repost this entry. Overall, the day seemed like a test of my fortitude and endurance; my ability to flex and adapt and strangely enough it set my teeth. This day made me more determined to be active in my endeavors and get out of it what I put in. Which is precisely the tack I took the following day.