Thorsborne Log Day 4

I get up and go skinny dipping in the sea at sunrise.

I begin to understand the appeal of free body culture. What a great day! I wash in the lagoon and set off to fetch drinking water upstream. Last night a few rain drops hit my tent, maybe there's more water in the creek this morning and I won't have to walk as far.

Cairns. Stone men. They reassure you that you're on the right track.

Or, at least on a track. That other people have been here before. Not sure why they are here in this part of the creek. No drinking water here. Do they tell you to keep going? To have faith? It smells like crocodile here.

You would think it's boring, walking on your own. But in fact it's not. Not for me. There's so much going on in my head, all I have to do is listen. It's the perfect entertainment, and it's all about me! I wonder how long you'll have to walk for until your mind shuts up?

I almost burn my porridge again. I have given up making coffee since the instant powder I got is pish. The setting here makes me think of being stranded on a remote, uninhabited island. Which I kind of am. I wonder how long I could survive here? There's plenty of drinking water, no real threat from wildlife. I'd have to learn how to fish, and figure out which plants are edible.

Ahead lies an easy day.

Only two hours to the next camping area, and from there a few more kilometers to a creek which hopefully has water. I'm getting picked up tomorrow moring at a place where I can't camp, but I'd like to spend the night as close to there as possible, so I won't miss the boat. It's funny how I still worry about being late even though I get up at sunrise anyway, and they'll even wait for me. Deeply ingrained habit.

I reach Nina Bay. Another tropical paradise. I better watch the coconut trees. There's this cliche that coconuts kill more people in Australia than sharks.

I take a dip in the sea, eat my last apple, and set off to find drinking water. I see a coconut on the ground which looks as if it hasn't been there for very long. I carefully approach it while watching the other, dangerous ones on the tree. It takes me about an hour to open it with my cheap knife and a rock.

It's still good! What a success!

The hardest part was actually to find the actual nut and to get rid of the softer, fibrous stuff around it. I could definitely survive here.

Ok, coconut gets old way before eating one quarter of it. At least I have enough food now.

At the top of my last climb I meet two Australian walkers and we chat for a while. I give them half of my coconut, they offer drinking water. I stupidly decline. When I reach my last lonely beach of this trip, Blacksand Beach, and my last place to put up my tent I realize that the creek I was counting on is dry. I guess I won't wash until the boat pick-up then.

I set up my tent on the beach under tea trees.

The map says they are tea trees (melaleuca), but to me they look like eucalyptus trees. This is not a designated camping area. No rat-boxes here, so I hang my food up in a tree.

Thorsborne Log Day 3

I wake up at sunrise and burn my porridge. I eat it anyway. I didn't bring extra food. Even more reason for muesli instead next time.

The night was OK. I slept a little better than the night before, I was really alone, and not a bit scared - at least after a lengthy and victorious mozzie fight. I left the rain fly open so I could look into the stars through my mosquito net. Pretty.

I leave camp at at 6.45 am and walk through rain forest again.

According to the map this should be the part where I would get my feet wet - but no, at the end of the dry period I guess I got lucky. I am grateful for my GoLite shoes that hold up so well - no need for my heavy waterproof boots, even my feet are still fine.

The pack feels lighter today. Is it because I got stronger or did I pack better? Or rather because I have run out of drinking water?

I'm loving this rain forest. So many kinds of palm trees, and leaves, mangroves, big boulders, eucalyptus trees. When I stop moving I can hear all these birds.

It smells funny. Or is it me? I should book accommodation for after my hike by phone rather than face to face. Over the phone they won't be able to smell my 5 day camping odor.

Nights at the edge of the rain forest, 10 m from the sea, are actually really noisy. The breaking waves, birds, cicadas, pigs (?),... I'm surprised I'm still top fit during the day, even though I haven't slept properly for 4 nights.

It's getting drier the further up north I walk. I hope there will be more swimming holes for at least a basic wash.

There are a few creeks to cross. The last one is a crocodile creek with warning signs on both sides that strongly advise you not to enter the river. But the absence of any French guy leftovers reassures me. Surely, the crocs wouldn't have eaten all their gear!

After 4 hours without any croc sightings I finally leave the rain forest which has been so dense at times that I almost got stuck with my big backpack. Now, eucalyptus and grass. Pretty. Hello sun!

I eat a dark chocolate almond cranberry bar and put on more insect repellent. It distributes the dirt evenly on my skin and makes me look more tanned than I will be after a proper wash.

Aaand back into the stupid rain forest. It's getting old. Sigh. At least it's not as swampy anymore, less insects around. A mixture of sweat, dirt, insect repellent, and sun screen runs don my arms and legs and drenches my shirt. I wonder how much weight I'm losing. Finally, I'm there. Little Ramsay Bay. I put up my tent in the shade at the edge of the forest, directly at the beach. A nice breeze enters my camping cove. I need to get drinking water. There's a creek that ends in a little lagoon right behind my camping spot. I have to walk upstream for a while until I actually see running water.

I go for a dip in the sea but not too far out, since the stinger season is about to begin, and even sharks are not uncommon in this area. Not sure about crocs. I wash the salt off in the lagoon anyway. The sea and the lagoon are very warm. The lagoon is a bit spooky.

I haven't treated the water from the creeks that I've been drinking, even though I bought water purification tablets. The brochure advises hikers to always treat their water. The locals tell me they never treat the water. In the end, I am too lazy for the complicated task of water treatment, since each tablet "purifies" 1 liter of water, but I only brought 1.5, 0.6, and 0.75 liter containers. But I've been fine so far. Saying that, I feel some discomfort in my belly. My first thought: My period! Second thought: The water! It is my period. Shit. But better today than two days ago I guess.

It's too early for dinner. Yesterday, I had dinner at 4.30 pm. It's 2.30 now. I walk too fast. Ok, chillin'. I read till dinner time.

There is no one around. The French have passed me, since they take one day less for the hike. There is no one else at the camping area. No one at this bay, no one will be coming here today from either north or south. No boats. I can hear one plane in the distance. I didn't have to wear a bikini. I'm not wearing a bra.

Wildlife of the day: Estuary crocodiles. What's a romantic moonlight stroll along the river for us is an easy midnight snack for them.

Thorsborne Log Day 2

I start my day with a wash under the waterfall and porridge and coffee for breakfast. The coffee is disgusting, I'll switch to peppermint tea the next days. I'm very excited about my gas stove which has a little piezo lighter attached to it. It cooks like a champion. My porridge is a mix of quick oats, currants, and milk powder. I find that muesli would have been much easier - no need for hot water. No need for hot breakfast in the tropics anyway. Next time I'll know.

Lots of up and down today through rain forest on rocky and rooty ground. Great view on top of a mountain saddle.

Three swimming holes on this leg of the walk! I have a dip in one of them on top of a waterfall with another great view over Zoe Bay.

Today's campsite sits next to an estuary creek - I choose a hidden spot away from the creek at the beach, hoping the French will stay at the creek and get eaten by the crocs.

Complaint of the day: I didn't bring enough food!

Wildlife of the day: March flies. Fat flies that bite you. They are attracted to dark fabric such as my dark gray hiking pants, which fortunately seem to be insect-proof.

Thorsborne Log Day 1

I walked the Thorsborne Trail, and here is my log. As you can see, I had plenty of time to write down my thoughts. Enjoy.

After a sleepless night in Townsville I set off to Ingham by Greyhound as early as 7 am. Having some time to kill there, I go to the tourist office where I spend an hour chatting about the trail with one of their staff who has walked the trail himself three times already. He answers all my questions about crocodiles ("don't do anything stupid"), drinkable water ("the water in the creeks should be fine"), and creek crossings (at low tide), shows me some photographs, and tells me about things I might see, such as wild pigs. I'm not sure whether or not he's kidding and must look confused, so his colleague, an elderly lady, helps me out by making hilarious pig noises.

Around noon my shuttle minibus brings me (just me...) to the boat, not without giving me a quick overview and free tour of this area's cane sugar industry. They have extra rails for little sugar cane trains, and an endless (world's longest?) pier out to the sea to transfer the cane sugar to big cargo ships.

A little boat takes me and three French guys over to Hinchinbrook Island to the southern trail head of the Thorsborne Trail. I am actually relieved that it won't be just me on this island today.

The walk starts with a nice stroll along 5 km of lonely beach before entering deep rain forest.

A few shallow creeks have to be crossed, nothing to worry me with my Icelandic-glacial-river-crossing experience. My pack feels heavy. It's probably around 15 kg including 3 liters of water. But then, it's the first day, and the pack will feel lighter once I get stronger.

The designated camping area consists of one composting toilet, three rat-proof food boxes, and a waterfall with swimming hole which is full of curious fishies and a turtle.

One other couple, who are walking the trail in the opposite direction, from north to south, have put up their tent already. After some chat about trail conditions I find myself a nice spot for my brand-new tent that is far enough from the couple to maintain each other's privacy, but not too close to the waterfall, so the background noise won't make me want to pee all night.

I go for a swim and when I come back, the French guys have put up their tents directly next to mine. Oh well. So I won't be lonely tonight.

For the first night in days I'm not worried about mosquitoes or scratching my many bites. I don't sleep well anyway, since sleeping on a 15$ sleeping mat needs some getting used to.

Complaint of the day: My backpack is too heavy.

Random thoughts in a small town (Cardwell)

I spent a few days in this quiet little town and I was loving it. Even though the Greyhound buses stop here it is not a typical tourist destination. It certainly doesn't attract any backpackers. That's why I like it.

People here greet you on the street, even if you're dirty and stink after 5 days in the showerless wilderness.
There's a supermarket, a few cafés, a pub, a butcher, a greengrocer, a library, an excellent visitor centre, a 50 m swimming pool, and a telegraph museum.

I've been swimming twice, went to the library, most of the cafés, the visitor centre. Since I had some time to kill today before taking the train to Cairns I went to the museum. It was very cute, but the guy who worked there was absolutely lovely. Past his 70s he very enthusiastically explained me all about telegraphy and setting up the telegraph lines in young Australia. We then chatted about cyclone Yasi that made landfall here two years ago and was a bit smaller but stronger than hurricane Sandy which hit NJ and NY very recently. He showed me pictures of the destruction and flooding. We talked for about half an hour, crocodiles and walking came up. He then offered to drive me to a swimming hole nearby to spend the time until my train leaves! Well, I'm not as spontaneous as I'd like to be, and I also wanted to get coffee and recharge my phone so I declined. But I did appreciate the offer.

I know it's hypocritical to hate the backpackers but whenever I go where they don't I meet the kindest people. And the strangest characters.

There is this Australian guy, Brad, who told me his life story and tried his German on me. He is past 60 and looked like he likes the occasional drink, but was nice enough. After we had chatted for a bit on more than one occasion he asked me if I wanted to be shocked. I said no, but he showed me the swastika in his wallet anyway. I really wonder what it means to him to carry around such a symbol. From what he said I believe it's respect for the Germans (!!!) and a fondness for nationalism and socialism, but not xenophobia and totalitarianism. Strange.

Then, there were all the people from train services and visitor centres that I talked to on the phone to organize my trip to the outback next week. They all seemed genuinely invested in helping me to have a great time. This is an email from Marcia from a private train company who wanted to help me organize a train tour which eventually didn't work out, but I told her I'd organize my own transport:

"Oh beautiful!
I am glad you got to do that...excellent. It truly is gorgeous country out that way. Have a great time! The locals are lovely people!

Kind Regards
Marcia"

I think this is my favorite part of traveling - meeting the kindest and most interesting people in the most remote areas.

And coming up soon: A full report of my walking adventure!

Great gear for traveling #2 - Pretty enamel mug

I just spent 90 AU$ (maybe 70 €) in an army store and got a cooker, gas, a pot, a knife, and this pretty mug. Not only is it usable in multiple ways (for soup, pudding, coffee, tea, water, lemonade, long-drinks, cocktails, milkshakes, smoothies), no, it can also be put directly on the gas stove. And isn't it pretty?!?

Great gear for traveling #1 - The Swiss Army Knife

Anything with multiple uses is great for traveling. Like the little black dress that also works as a nightie. Or the spork (spoon/fork tool). Therefore, the Swiss Army Knife is the ultimate multi-use tool. The feature I have used most is the large knife for chopping veggies, since sharp knives are rare in hostels. The scissors are very useful for cutting nails mainly. I didn't have to carry extra nail scissors or clippers. And finally, the can opener which I have used at least on two occasions during the past months.

I am not sure how many Swiss Army Knives I have lost in my life, but I assume it's more than 3. The last one was a Christmas present by my parents and only lasted 299 days in my ownership. I lost it in the shop at Cathedral Beach on Fraser Island.

I'm walking... in Australia!

You know that song "I'm walking", right? When I did my first father's day tour in the 90s, with my best friends Ulla and Lea, we had a little cassette player and maybe two or three mix tapes. One of them ran up and down, and it had that song on it which makes me think of that day whenever I hear it...

Anyway, it's been a few weeks since my last real blog post (yes, shame on me), so here come a little update.

I'm still in Australia. In fact, I haven't even left the state Queensland (top right corner of Australia) and only made it up north to the tropics this week (Townsville and Magnetic Island - I went because of the cool name, but it's actually really nice).

Today's post is about walking. There are many popular multi-day walks in Australia, but two of them stand out for being really, really awesome and famous. These are the Thorsborne Trail on Hinchinbrook Island, Queensland, and the Overland Track, Tasmania.

I'm going to walk both, that's how cool I am.

It's taken me 6 weeks in Australia where my feet have been itching to walk, before I got used to the idea of having to carry a tent (and a mat, a cooker, cookware, water). Because this is what walking in Australia means: basic (no showers) to very basic (no toilets) wilderness camping, and no huts.

(Although there are huts on the Overland Track since the Tasmanian climate is close to the British, but a tent has to be carried anyway, since the beds in the huts can't be booked, so you'd have to be there early if the track is busy in order to get a bed. And I'm not a fast walker.)

I never really questioned my assumption that walking plus camping is too hard before now. I thought that a tent weighs either 3.5 kg and costs 20 € or 1 kg and 300 €. Seeing that my backpack already weighs 10 kg (after sending 5 kg of extra stuff such as warm clothes, make-up, and dancing shoes to Melbourne) I didn't want to carry 50% more. But then I talked to a lady I had met in a Buddhist retreat (that's another story) who convinced me that I could actually get a cheap lightweight tent in Australia. And I did. It's a simple 2 person dome tent for 25$ and weighs 2 kg.

Being now a proud tent-owner I tried to get one of the rare Thorsborne Trail permits of which there are only 40 per day. That settled, I booked the ferry to the starting point of the trail, a shuttle to the ferry, and a bus to the shuttle. Also, another ferry from the end point. The permit was 20$ in total for 4 nights including camping. All transportation to and from the trail: 240$. I also cost me lots of nerves to organize all that.

Thanks, Kat and Daniel, for organizing my past walking trips! I never appreciated it enough!

Tomorrow, I'm going to go shopping for a mat, cooking stuff, etc., and the day after I'm doing it, yeah!

Australia's funny wildlife #5 - The koala bear

The koala bear was the main reason why I went to Australia: to cuddle baby koalas. This guy is a real wild koala, but not cute enough to be a baby. Guess, I'll have to stay a bit longer here.

Robinson Crusoe meets Dirty Dancing

On Monday, I took a tiny plane to a tiny remote island to spend a few days snorkeling the reef and relaxing. From all the hard work, haha. Seriously though, I wanted to get away from all these 20 year old backpackers.

That island was as wide as a landing strip for a small (12 seats) plane is long. Look up Lady Elliott Island on google maps. It was surrounded by coral reef, so you could walk off the beach into the water and start snorkeling and see all these colorful fishies, sea turtles, and sharks. I didn't see any manta rays while I was in the water, only on my flight back did I see one, as well as humpback whales with babies later.

On the island was a small resort with different kinds of accommodation from "eco cabins", which were better tents, to more luxurious ensuite rooms. Dinner and breakfast as well as one boat tour, island exploration tours, and snorkel equipment were included.

Snorkeling was great, but after a day of doing nothing but snorkeling and reading chick lit my brain craved intelligent conversation. So I visited the power generation plant of the island and ran into the island engineer who gave me a private tour, and I asked him many questions. Apparently, all the batteries used for power storage from the photovoltaic panels were made in Germany :) Do you know what a gel battery is? Well, I didn't, and it sounded fancy enough to be new technology, but all it is is the good old lead acid battery, only that the acid is gelated. Probably for safety reasons.

Anyway, that guy was very nice, and I kept running into him later (tiny island...) and we chatted for a bit. I was wondering if the resort staff was allowed to hang out with guests, and if they would take me to their staff accommodations so that we could drink beers and have parties and bonfires at the beach. Dirty Dancing, isn't it?

That of course never happened, I went to bed at 9 pm, being shattered after all the relaxing. Only on my last day a woman my age, and also on her own, arrived on the island, which was a nice change since there were only families or couples among the (maybe 30?) guests. But I hadn't expected anything else, and I got to eat and sleep well, and read a lot.

After all this excitement I'm now on my way to a Buddhist retreat. I took a shuttle from the hostel, I'm now sitting in the bus to the train, and will take the fast tilt train, then a slow train, and finish with a 6 km walk to my final destination. And train travel in Australia is another topic that deserves its own ranty post.

Australia's expensive nowadays...

.. but I got half a sandwich for free today! Munching it while watching the sun set in Noosa.

Australia's funny wildlife #4

This species is called "flower". In Australia, flowers are not actually considered animals since they are too pretty. They are also not actually funny.

Australia's funny wildlife #3

As all nasty insects this spider, too, is male. The huntsman likes to be very big and scary. His habitat is anywhere near where humans have their beds.

Australia's funny wildlife #2

Dragons come in a variety of sizes and surface morphologies. Contrary to common belief most species neither fly nor spit fire.

Australia's funny wildlife #1

Right after birth, bush turkeys get their heads painted by eco volunteers to increase their visibility and make them safe for traffic. Australians drive on the left.

Dancing in Australia

Balboa is Rocky's last name but it's also a kind of a swing dance that is danced to really fast music and focuses on the feet and legs as opposed to the upper body.

This past July, I took one week of balboa lessons in Herräng, Sweden, and thought I had it all figured out. In August, I went to a balboa dance in Edinburgh, Scotland, and was having some trouble. My third attempt to get it in my head - or rather my feet - happened in Brisbane, the weekend after my week of wwoofing, when I attended Balboa On The River, a three day balboa workshop with famous balboa instructors Sylvia Sykes, Mickey&Kelly, and others.

Turned out I'm still really, really bad. But also, that it's fun anyway, sometimes even for both parts of the couple. Especially the dancers from Melbourne were extremely nice which makes me want to go to the Melbourne Lindy Exchange in late November.

Anyway, after that I had enough of the city and spent a week relaxing at the beautiful beaches of Noosa.

Australia and WWOOF

Having already spent two weeks in Australia it's about time I give an update.

I didn't really think it through when I applied for the free eVisitor visa which is valid only for three months. Because Australia is BIG. But hey, it was free...
Three months is a short time if you want to see a lot but also do a bit of wwoofing to get to know people and culture. WWOOF originally stands for world wide organization of organic farmers and is exactly that. You can become a member and help out on registered organic farms worldwide for food and accommodation.

People I talked to who knew people who had done it said it had been great. Seeing that accommodation is probably the biggest chunk financially when traveling, wwoofing certainly is a cheap - if slow - way to travel, you just move from farm to farm, far off the beaten tourist tracks, and all you have to pay for is some transportation.

So, after two nights in Brisbane and getting used to the time zone I met my host Randall, together with two other wwoofers, Damien and Jackie, at the Brisbane museum, because Damien wanted to see the Egyptian exhibition.

Jackie was leaving and was dropped off at a friend's place, and Randall, Damien and I went to see the museum, did some grocery shopping after that, and drove back to the farm, 40 min north of the city.

It wasn't really a farm though. It was a fairly large property owned by different parties of Randall's family. There was also a big orchard, a creek with waterholes for swimming, a big veggie garden and 8 chickens. The house was amazing. Randall had started building it when he was 14 and wanted to move out of his parents' place. It looked like a mix of tree house in the middle of the jungle and a pyramid with different levels and most common rooms without walls. Which is why we had frequent visits of lizards, snakes and spiders. Once I find a computer with internet access I'll post pictures of house, people and creatures.

My job was building a new chicken den to keep the 7 chickens and the one rooster happy. Snakes like chickens, therefore I found myself weaving chicken wire for 4 days to make the den snake proof. There was also the watering of the numerous plants which took maybe an hour every day. Apart from that it was me who did the dishes all the time which was fine until Randall got a new blender and went crazy with it. We had smoothies, lemonade, soup and ice cream several times a day, all made with the blender. Lots of dishes to wash. But we also had a bonfire, stone oven baked pizza, and a film screening of one of the documentaries Randall had written and directed, in the garden, which was really cool. Oh, and home-brewed beer.

I met different people there, other wwoofers, Randall's mum, who one day brought us fresh scones and biscuits, and other folks. I was offered to stay for three more weeks while Randall was gone, but I declined.

My official excuse was that I only had three months and didn't want to spend one of them just at one place. But to be honest, I also didn't like the idea of being responsible for keeping a huge garden, 7 chickens and a rooster alive, while also having to deal with other wwoofers. I like meeting people, but sometimes, all I want is some alone time to accommodate my introvert side. Doing small talk with people you don't choose to talk to can become tiring after a while. While I enjoyed talking to Randall, I was a bit at a loss with the other wwoofers who were about 10 years my junior.

So I did have a good time wwoofing, but I was also happy having my independence, anonymity, regular shower and spider-free bathroom back. Will I do it again? Maybe, but not very soon.