Arriving in the Whitsundays & Airlie Beach

Something's not right here!

Hamilton Island Airport from the ferry

Well, from a sunny Brisbane, it was disappointing to see clouds and rainy squalls on my arrival at Hamilton Island airport. The landing was pretty bumpy due to (as I later found out) the necessity of having to catch a braking cable to stop the plane before the end of the short runway. We then had to walk the short distance into the terminal building, getting steadily pissed on by a light, warm rain, which was surprisingly effective at soaking my bags and clothes. My luggage came quickly and, as a result, I was able to catch an earlier ferry than planned for, speeding across slightly bumpy seas for Abel Point Marina just outside the town of Airlie Beach. I took a slightly circuitous and hilly route into town on foot, getting another soaking from the clouds being hurried along briskly by a stiff breeze, and arrived at Nomads Caravan and Camping park, slightly damp, slightly sweaty and slightly tired.

A bright and breezy Ash checked me in and gave me the lowdown on places to eat, drink and shop. At 10 dollars a night, the camping here was by far the cheapest I'd come across in Australia and I was more than happy with a flat pitch with plenty of grass and soft earth for pegging and about 20 metres from the toilet / shower block. I found my bearings by taking a walk down the main strip to find the supermarket and check out the day trip options on offer in the multitude of travel agents and backpacker hostels. Back at Nomads, I had a good chat with Ash and took some brochures for boat trips amongst the islands and out to the Great Barrier Reef. I had a quick phone call with my friend Dave (one of my best friends back home, who had moved out to Australia over 2 years ago to try a new lifestyle and to be with his Melbourne-based girlfriend, Danielle) about which tours and trips he'd like to do and we both felt the excitement of anticipation ahead of our reunion the following day. When I was travelling in Asia back in 2004, Dave had come to join me in Thailand at Christmas time and it was great to be meeting him on my travels again…the circle being completed once more. We agreed to book a boat trip on the 'Mantaray' to do some diving around Hook Island and visit the world-famous Whitehaven Beach.

Admin sorted, I made my way to 'The Shed', which is the open-air bar for the Nomads resort. I sat and used the wifi to do a little blogging and drank a couple of schooners of beer (mostly unappetising pish, I'm sorry to report) and got talking to the English bar-manager, Olly. Olly was well-travelled and interesting to chat to - urbane and entertaining, but also self-effacing and well-informed. For the second time in 24 hours, I felt a rapport with a complete stranger and I decided I'd have to make sure we got more chance to chat over the coming days. He was mostly positive about his many travel experiences and we chatted with enthusiasm about some of the places we'd both been to, including Kathmandu where he had worked for a voluntary organisation, much as I had. He spoke too, with frustration, of his growing ennui with the 'anything goes' backpackers that were beginning to dominate the travelling scene in Australia, desperate to find any way they could to save a few dollars, including swindling, defrauding and even stealing from fellow travellers. He was soon to be returning to Melbourne where he'd been living, en route to Blighty to see family and friends and I could sense that he'd had enough and was ready to move on. He also talked about future travel plans and of the friends (including many close ones) that he had made all over the world. Some people just need to keep moving , not from a lack of commitment or attention span but purely from a desire to soak up new cultures, alternative interpretations of life and to see the world from many perspectives, rather than one. Olly was / is very much a traveller…I still can't make up my mind about myself. I feel the pull of home very strongly sometimes - a need to be with people that I love and who love me…but the thought of not continuing to explore our planet does not sit well with me and I'm going to have to find a way to satisfy both these urges if I'm going to be happy in life. Olly's parting shot was a warning to look after my stuff as a few things had gone walkies over his time there. He had, that very evening, found a t-shirt of his, that had disappeared from the laundry room, in a pile of someone else's clothes! Duly forewarned, I resolved to look after my stuff carefully and was already feeling pleased with myself for padlocking the zips on my tent and carrying my various electronics around with me in a daypack. 

After a long day and little sleep (don't forget the overnight flight), I allowed myself the luxury of another meal out, opting for the cheapness of the 13 dollar meal + pint deal at the neighbouring Down Under bar. The clientele made me feel fairly old, as well as reminding me of Uni days, as there was an Incredible Hulk Party going on for someone's birthday. A couple of dozen lads and lasses in bright green body paint and torn clothing was pretty amusing although I recollect a friend's bath still having green stains from my costume some three years down the road. I wouldn't want to have been cleaning the rooms or the bedsheets of these guys. I headed back to the safety of the Shed, only to be made to feel even older by a 21st Birthday party - this time populated with Smurfs! I decided that I'd cut my losses and headed to bed, cuddled up to my backpacks (yep, no car again so everything was back to being under canvas with me) and oblivious to the nocturnal activities of my mammalian and avian neighbours.