Sun, Sea, Sand, Sports, Surfing, Super-lash and Driving around in a Really Cool, Big 4x4

We arrived in Noosa having not booked any accommodation on the basis that it seemed so easy to find it along this east coast. We had not however banked on another Australian monsoon and so on arrival we simply ran into the back of the nearest hostel minibus. We were told that there were only rooms left in a dorm that did not have water but our lack of motivation to find anything better saw us agree on the basis that we were going to be given a better price. After about ten minutes in the room the plumber turned the water back on. Bonus. In fact this hostel turned out to be a find. It was here that we met up with Millie and Josie, another English pairing that had discovered Goon. After a terrible showing in the game of killer pool in the hostel we played cards together into the evening. After a morning dip in the hostel pool we hit up charity shops in town to find Stu a replacement for his jumper and spotted a tasty blue woollen number (6 dollars can’t be bad for a sailor’s jumper). We then grabbed a surf board and embraced the showers to get some more practise and had a pretty successful session on Noosa main beach. In the evening we managed to find Jaimey and Ruth from Brisbane tales and a worm two rooms down from us! Cue another night of Goon, cards and cookies.

The next day found us on a bus to rainbow beach, following behind Josie and Millie on the OZ Experience, whom we shared another morning swim with and walked with to Noosa lookout for what is almost certainly a fantastic view on a sunny day...

The bus actually stopped outside our hostel in Rainbow (this town is fairly small) and we found ourselves in the same dorm as the girls again! Literally everyone is here to go to the island and the tours leave everyday, the whole hostel is banging to the sound of drunken dirty groups returning or groups getting spanked in a bid to get to know each other, so we settled in and prepared ourselves for the start of our Fraser experience.

Josie and Stu cleared the lungs with a morning run along the beach before we all went to the local (rather posh) tennis club where the girls put us to shame. The Millie Forehand was particularly devastating! We had a rather lengthy briefing in the afternoon, where we met the other 6 troops who would be joining us – Chris and Jenny the horny German couple (the former a ladatronic drink disposal unit, the latter an argumentative witch), Rene their speedo wearing countryman and his partner Kat, Maggie the Goon addicted super chef and Steve the Irish lashhound. The ten of us put in the Goon and beer order before taking advantage of the happy hour deals on Jugs to get to know each other.

In the morning we had another talking to, this time regarding the obscene amount of food we were being burdened with, how to drive a Toyota Landcruiser Troop Carrier along the world’s largest sand island and how to pack all this food and drink and camping gear and ten people neatly on the roof and inside. Stress was placed on the need to buy ice to keep the alcohol cold and how best to set up a banging beach party which, with seven jeeps going our day, each one Goon fuelled and containing a boom box, would not be difficult. We were given a rough itinery, a map and tide times and told to ‘get amongst it’ by Merv, who was very Australian and holds the Fraser Island petrol record.

We headed out in convoy, locked wheels in 4WD and left Merv at the ferry, which meant we were on our own, totally free to bez up and down the island exploring it’s delights. The first major stop was Lake McKensie which was totally unreal – perfectly clear waters and bleached white sand – the perfect spot for some serious volleyball and swimming. The drive there was pretty ace too, your man Steve whizzed us along the sand and Speedo Rene took us over the inland rough stuff, difficult driving terrain which I had the pleasure of negotiating on the way back after lunch and, crucially, after the Goon had been opened. What proceeded to occur in the back of the jeep as I was bouncing us all through the rainforest was pure and simple debauchery. Stu was meant to take over half way to the beach, he was simply in no fit state to do so. When I expressed a wish to change drivers and get Goon filled myself a hand stand competition broke out and on discussion we concluded that Steve, the only man foolish enough to want to take the wheel should be banned due to the amount of ethanol already pumping through his veins. I had to take us all the way to camp, but on Merv’s advice cracked a can at the wheel and joined the spirit (don’t try this on public roads children.) I had the time of my life cruising along a sun drenched beach nearing dusk, and in the back Stu managed to feed Maggie an even greater amount of Goon so that for the rest of the evening at least someone in the camp had to be on ‘Maggie watch’. During the responsible game of ‘I have never’ we managed to prize enough information out of Chris to ensure a serious domestic followed...

We managed to get all 7 jeeps in one camp and cooked up some steak, tatties and salad. At one point there was threat of a shower, which sent everyone running and climbing about trying to fix tarps over the stoves, but after a few minutes Mother Nature gave up and that was the last time we even saw a cloud. Such was the haphazard nature of our camping that night that a fair few (wild and apparently very dangerous) Dingos were attracted in. They were kept at bay by the 10 members of the Irish jeep who between them in 3 days consumed 44 litres of Goon, 5 crates of beer, 2 bottles of Jager and 2 bottles of Vodka and were still drinking at 6 in the morning. We heard a rumour that one of them was actually woken in a sand dune by one licking his ear, but then again we also heard a story that one of the said Irish shouted ‘sit’ at a pack of Dingos and one actually did. Believe what you want, but these are the lads that stopped to buy ice and instead drank 8 Jager-Bombs each at three in the afternoon!

A swift, excellently executed team pack up saw us ‘leaving no trace’ but about 7 in the morning (you simply can’t sleep after dawn). We sped north to Indian head via a ship wreck and Eli creek, another beautiful spot to dip in fresh water. We climbed to the lookout and surveyed the beauty of the island before heading back south (somehow leaving a tent with the Irish who were passed out on the beach) and headed back inland to lake Allom where we thought we would be able to chill our bronzed bodies in some more fresh water. It turned out that this lake was reserves for turtles, who were very friendly but left us still feeling warm, so we returned to Eli creek, swam and broke the volleyball world record.

The second night’s camp was far more organised, and the girls did a job with the Thai chicken curry before we got back on the Goon and played the world’s largest game of ‘Ring of Fire’. It was later this evening that we found Steve asleep on the beach, a sight far less beautiful than the superb stars that were twinkling above us. In the morning we were a little fragile. When we opened our cool box we realised why. There was one can of beer floating all alone. Everything else had been consumed. Cornflakes and toast to the rescue.

The last day was mainly spent on a walk to and from and dip in Lake Wabby. This was after Stu’s antics trying to park the Jeep in gear with his foot on the clutch! We also saw a ‘sandblow’ on the way, which for all intent and purpose was a very cool (but stinking hot) desert.
Time to go home and remove sand from every orifice know to man. Quiz in the evening at the hostel and a very deep sleep. Wawawooey!