Through the Gold Coast

Surfer’s Paradise as the name suggest is coined as a mecca for waveriders, it has a long golden beach, waterways that break up the mainland into small interconnecting islands and heaps of sunshine. Sounds great, but what also comes with it is many curved skyscrapers that look ridiculously out of place and seem to be built to no particular masterplan (the council appear to have conceded this fact as a major redevelopment is underway) . There are hundreds of holiday homes and apartments, trashy strip clubs and fast food alleys. It is, if anything a paradise lost, Australia’s answer to Magaluf, so if it’s clubbing your after then this maybe your stop. Apart from that it seems to be a town that has grown from nothing and remains a little bit pointless. Perhaps the most ironic thing about Surfer’s is that the waves down here aren’t even that good. The days before our arrive the lifeguards had to close the beach due to a dangerous rip, it was still present now but the lifeguards had opened up a small segment of beach, under their watchful eye I waded out to shoulder height and joined the other swimmers in the choppy water (there were no surfers here). You could really feel the rip and it’s enough to pull you down the beach the minute your feet become unanchored by a wave, swimming against it is exhausting. I simply body surfed for a while.

Brisbane was a fleeting visit and I recall it like a hazy daydream, we arrived in Bunk Hostel and soon met a good few travelers. We decided to wander the streets in our big group to discover what this city has to offer. What we discovered in the centre and overlooking a river (and a ferrous wheel that look uncannily like our London Eye) was an artificial lagoon. I went for a swim entering the water from the imported sand beach and sat under a palm tree looking out at the metropolis. When I returned to grassy park where to others were spread out a barbeque was well underway along with four boxes of ‘goon’ wine to share between us. After the boxes were emptied we ended up watching American Pie Reunion and stumbled home.

Next stop Noosa, it's an easy going surfer's town with a national park nearby. But if Noosa taught me nothing else it was never attempt to travel in Australia during Easter holidays, just stay well away because  everywhere is closed, literally everywhere all the supermarkets and there was not a single empty bed in this town. Our effort to find a place to rest proved fruitless so we made the decision to take only essentials and leave our backpacks in an information kiosk. We headed over to a park next to Sunshine Beach and prepared for a rough night. But by chance we stumble upon another full hostel and thought it worth seeing if we could use internet, fortunately the dude behind the desk was pretty cool and managed to find us a couple of old mattresses and we slept in a utility room attached to the hostel for a couple of nights. Many other backpackers weren’t so lucky and gathered on the park bench, but I guess there are worse places to be homeless. Whilst absolutely nothing was open I took time to relax on the beach and do little else watching waves break during the full moon.