Airlie Beach & Whitsunday Islands

When you roll into Airlie Beach, you know you’ve reached the backpacker’s Mecca. We seem to  be getting younger every day.

We flew from Brisbane to Proserpine, and caught the shuttle bus to Airlie Beach. No plans, no reservations, no worries. The first tourist reservation agency fixed us up with a spacious studio flat, a three-day cruise round the Whitsunday Islands, and 4 hours of free WiFi internet access.

It was hot and sunny the day we arrived, but also very humid. Not much to do in Airlie Beach itself, apart from swimming in the man-made lagoon, and eating. So we ate. In a restaurant called Fish D’vine, voted the second best restaurant in Australia. D’vine just about sums it up, and it was not expensive.

The following day we went aboard the good ship Whitsunday Magic, a 3-masted schooner bound for the Great Barrier Reef and the exotic Whitsunday Islands. Hot, hot, hot for the first day and a half, and then wet, wet, wet. Peter had 2 dives on the reef with the dive master Thierry. With a name like that, could he be anything but French? Michèle fancied him, and so did all the other women on board. Michèle snorkelled on the reef, not very confidently. The lens inserts in her mask are not a great success. But at least she got wet.

We all had to wear thin wet-suits to keep out the jellyfish, or “stingers” as the Aussies call them. There was a party of eight Indians aboard (4 couples). None could swim, but they all dressed up in their stinger-suits, masks and snorkels at the ready, and came out to the reef in the dinghy. One went into the water, nearly drowned, got fished out, and the party finally decided that it was safer to view the fish through the boat’s glass bottom.

There were about 25 people on board, plus 7 crew. We formed 3 groups: the Indians, a party of young Germans, and 4 British couples including ourselves. We all got on together very well, because we remembered not to mention the war or the World Cup.

The food was outstanding, the crew were great, but the boat left much to be desired. The cabins were cramped, smelly and very noisy; on the first night Michèle felt that we had made the wrong choice, but did not feel up to swimming back to Airlie Beach, so decided to continue with the trip nevertheless. One of the other guests mentioned that she had been warned about bed-bugs, and for the rest of the trip Michèle conducted a one-woman crusade against these beasts. Unfortunately the enemy was never sighted.

We later visited a couple of the islands, including Whitehaven Beach on Whitsunday Island, which has the finest, whitest sand in the world. But unfortunately its effect is totally lost in the rain. And it was raining. Hard.

We walked up a bush trail to a lookout point on Whitsunday Island which was quite fun. On the way down, Michèle was attacked by an army of rabid mosquitoes. While trying to outrun them she fell over and now has bruises and grazes all down her left side. Poor soul.

We enjoyed the trip, but it could have been so much better with a bit more sunshine, more diving, and a more modern boat. We got on well with the other guests, and particularly with two other retired Brit couples, John & Sue, and Derek & Sue. We had dinner with them in Airlie Beach on our return, once again at Fish D’vine, washed down with a large glass of rum. Yum Yum.

Backpacker watching has become our favourite intellectual pursuit. The herd instinct that makes them all dress the same (very little), smell the same (very high), congregate at the same watering-holes. Unlike most other wild animals, it’s the females who are the most colourful, and for some unknown reason seem to catch Peter’s eye endlessly.

We have now hired a car to drive up to Cairns, weather permitting. According to recent weather reports, more rain has already fallen in this area than has ever been recorded for the season, and more is forecast for the next few days. Our umbrellas are once again proving to be the most judicious investments we have ever made. The roads may be closed, and there are reports of 6-metre man-eating crocodiles roaming the Bruce Highway. Yum Yum.

See you later, Alligator. In a while, Crocodile.