Well hello there.

Welcome back to Backpacking Live. Although the ‘Live’ part of that is certainly not true as it stands.

I have been meaning to write the last couple of blogs that would round off our world trip but before now haven’t had that all important motivation to do it. Perhaps because we’re back at home where people are crying out with joy whenever the weather girl predicts highs of 14 degrees.

However the other day my mindset was rather forcibly changed. There I was taking a slow jog around Barden Lake in Tonbridge when a black transit van with Disney’s Frozen soundtrack blaring form it, skidded in front of me blocking my path. At first I thought this may be a new type of gangster ice cream van but to my surprise out popped a group of hooded thugs with their faces hidden behind various Disney princess masks. I was thrown into the back of the van, blindfolded and driven to an abandoned warehouse in a mystery location. I was then tortured to within an inch of my life by being forced to listen to a complete soundtrack of all the current West End Musicals until I agreed to write a new blog within the next 7 days. I was then left for dead back at the lake to find my own way home.

I still have no idea who my attackers were. The only clue I have is that I’m sure I caught a glimpse of blonde hair under my attacker’s hoods. I can’t think of anyone.

So let’s get down to business and crack on just in case they come back.

Fiji. We had just spent 5 days on the tiny Mana Island where we met some great people and spent a lot of time relaxing in the sun. The girls took more photos of each other in those 5 days than I have of myself over the entire 6 months away, and we consumed more carbohydrates than the girls would care to remember. But all good things must come to an end apparently and so that morning we would say goodbye to our beloved island and move on to our next adventure. We would be heading north to The Octopus Resort hidden away on the island of Waya in the much talked about set of islands called the Yasawas.

Back in Sydney you may remember we met up with some of the Sky Sports News presenters reporting on the cricket World Cup. Well one of the camera men told us we must visit this set of islands as they really were beyond anything else in the world. Simply perfect….apparently. All of this of course meant, although sad about leaving Mana Island, we were very excited to see what the Yasawas had in store to possibly be even better.

We had breakfast and said our goodbyes before being called to board our boat. The boat ride to Mana was rather pleasant and so we were not phased by the coming journey whatsoever. Little did we know these two journeys would be nothing like each other. The first sign of this came when we were all handed life jackets before being led down the beach to what can only really be described as a metal soap dish with a motor on it.

Here we are just before we set off….

There were 7 of us on board made up of us 3, the 2 drivers and 2 other holiday makers. As we pulled away from the island the journey was seemingly very calm and peaceful. But once a safe distance from land the driver put his foot down. We began hitting each and every wave with more and more force. Imagine if you had taken all the suspension out of your car and began driving down a road full of speed bumps at about 70 mph.

We were sat at the front of the tiny soap dish with me in the middle, Soph on my right and Courtney to my left. This is actually evident still by the scares on the inside of my legs where their fingernails slowly dug deeper into my thighs until they were within millimetres of bone. To be fair I wasn’t exactly innocent of holding on for dear life either. Eventually we came to a stop outside an island with white sand and deep turquoise waters surrounding it. This was the infamous Beachcomber Island. The most expensive of all the islands yet the one with the worst reputation. It was basically the Fiji version of Magaluf, with a new party every night and drunk islanders wandering around cheering during the night and throwing up during the day. We weren’t staying here. Instead we were waiting to be picked up by a much larger and faster luxury boat.

Our journey so far had left us feeling like we’d just been standing in the middle lane of the M25 and been hit by every lorry on the way through. However we didn’t feel sick. Strangely this began once we’d come to a stop and were able to feel the gentle sway of the boat. Pretty sure I’m not feeling great here…

Thankfully we didn’t have too long to wait before our new boat arrived. We climbed up the back before being guided through to the ticket lady who took our money in exchange for a return ticket. This probably lasted no longer than 5 minutes but felt like a lifetime. How anyone can sit inside a boat I will never know. All 3 of us were in a horrible state. Doing everything we could to keep our breakfast from reappearing for all the passengers to see. I for one was searching the boat for the nearest toilet just in case I couldn’t hold it back any longer. But thankfully the other couple from our mini boat had some spare travel sickness tablets on them and were more than willing to lend us some. Give more like. The idea was to keep them down so I wouldn’t need to give them back.

We managed to make it outside where we stayed for about an hour, soaking up the fresh salty sea air as it whipped our faces. A man working on the boat appeared and asked for all those going to Waya to make their luggage known to him so it can be taken off the boat immediately when we arrived. The Octopus Resort on Waya Island was of course our destination so I took a deep breath and followed the man to the other end of the boat, told him what bags belonged to us and watched as he labelled them accordingly.

Not long later the boat came to a stop and a lady came over the tannoy to say ‘We are now at Waya Island Resort. Please come to the back of the boat if leaving for Waya Island Resort. Next stop Octopus Resort’.

Ah ok so Waya Island Resort and Waya Island are not the same thing. Oh well, just one more stop…..hang on….what about our bags….STONE THE CROWS….OUR BAGS!!!!

I ran through the boat and dived towards the crowds of people attempting to leave. I quickly located the guy I spoke to earlier only to discover he had forgotten all the English he knew not 10 minutes before. I struggled to find a single person who could understand my frantic screams until some ticket woman took charge and told me to calm down and asked what all the fuss was about. Although 100% Fijian she could speak fluent panic and understood what I was trying to get across. Of course she thought it important to tell me what an idiot I was and that everybody obviously knows that Waya island and Waya island Resort are not the same thing. She made an example of me in front of everyone by pretty much asking everyone to laugh and point at my school boy mistake, but she did eventually find my bags and label them correctly. I then slowly made my way back to the girls feeling worse than I had before.

By the time we’d arrived at our destination I couldn’t wait to get off that boat and feel solid land under my feet again. We stepped off with our bags and on to another tiny soap dish boat but not before receiving another look of disgust from the angry wasp chewing ticket lady.

As we came within a few 100 yards of the shore we were greeted by a team of islanders singing local Fijians songs. As our feet finally touched down on the white sand we were all given a cocktail and directed toward the restaurant area. The restaurant was made of a completely sand covered floor and had a mouth-watering menu up on the wall offering every dish we’d been missing since we left countries where we could actually afford to buy them. I looked over to see if Soph and Courtney had also noticed the menu and realised they were actually suffering from heart palpitations. I took their near cardiac arrests as a ‘yes, they had noticed’ and quickly stood up to take a better look around.

We were guided to our new dorm room and shown where the toilets and showers all were. First thing the girls did was run into the showers to see if they had any hot water. We’d been told by another couple who had already been to a number of the islands that we would be very unlikely to find any hot water in Fiji. Well these two suckers had probably gone to Waya Island resort instead because this paradise not only offered an amazing menu and a beach to match any other, it also had steaming hot showers.

Our dorm room was perfect too. No silly bunk beds with noisy metal frames to deal with. Just a comfortable, clean bed to sleep in for the next 3 nights. This place was starting to look like pure perfection. We made our way down to the decking area that led directly on to the beach and found some beach chairs to make our own. None of us had been able to check our phones since we left Nadi 5 days before so I disappeared to reply to all my birthday messages and check out that menu.

Previously on Mana Island we had basically eaten whatever the chef cooked for us. There were no options to choose from. However here we had the pick of anything on the menu. This place was a honeymoon resort for the richest of couples. Yet here we were, mixing it with the riches.

Lunch couldn’t come quick enough. It was only matched by how quick we scoffed it down and got back to soaking up the sunshine again. As we laid down and stared out to sea we all knew we had landed well and truly on our feet here. This place was far beyond anything we expected. This really was a paradise. However there is always one thing that can tip you over the edge even in paradise. And on this island it came in the form of an arrogant American. Sorry there was no need for that arrogant part. There all arrogant.

This guy and his equally annoying wife were on honeymoon. I think. Anyway whatever they we on they made it their mission to make everyone aware of how brilliant they were. They were unbearably spiritual with long blonde hair and wore only white. White baggy trousers and a loose white top to match his pure white sandals. The muppet looked like he’d just signed a sponsorship deal with Daz. Some people fell for their apparent charm. During our first evening we were all blessed with his extreme knowledge of nuts and seeds. A knowledge that often surprises his wife apparently. They were the type of people that would speak louder than anyone else to make sure everyone knew they were there. Unfortunately they didn’t count on a group of Brits that really couldn’t give 2 hoots about their amazing lives. Anyway…

The later evening consisted of a hot shower and a 3 course meal. We even managed to get in a few card games before we collapsed in our beds for the night.

We spent our days there doing pretty much the same thing every day. Waking up and filling our stomachs with the huge all you can eat breakfast spread before sleeping it off in the sun. Then eating lunch before sleeping it off in the sun. Then eating a huge dinner, playing some cards and then sleeping it off in our super soft luxury beds. The whole island was seemingly made for this holiday resort so our daily routine was not a lazy one. It was simply what everybody did. We were treated to a traditional Fijian show by all the staff one night and experienced a Fijian celebratory meal. And of course the girls continued to take more and more photos of themselves.

On the day we were set to leave the island we were lucky enough to experience a real treat. All the staff on the island lived on the island. But not in the luxury appartments. Not even in the single bed dorm rooms. They lived on the other side of the island with their families in tiny tin sheds or wooden shacks. They had their very own communities scattered around the island where they lived out their daily lives. And just like all Christian societies they went to church on a Sunday. Only this time, we were invited.

Sophie has quite the religious background. Her Grandad was a Methodist Minister and actually lived out 10 years of his life in the South American country of Belize. In fact her dad was actually born there many, many years ago…..

Although an entire ocean apart, Belize and Fiji were very similar in many way. Plus the church we were visiting was also a Methodist church so it was therefore a really special moment for Soph who could almost travel back in time to see what life would have been like for her dad, her two uncles and her grandparents.

Courtney and I do not have this religious background. Sundays for me have always been football day and I’m still not 100% sure if Courtney knew what a church was before we took a visit that day. However this didn’t in any way stop us from appreciating the moment we were in that morning. As a group of maybe 25 people, we marched over the hills to the opposing side of the island and were led into the very centre of a local village. We recognised some of the staff from the resort as they walked with their smartly dressed children out of their homes and on towards the church. Unfortunately those two Americans were also there to bless everyone with their spiritual presence. Again wearing nothing but a sparkling white get up.

As we walked in we sat on the left side behind the rows of local children, with the adults on the right. The Methodist Minister than stood up and spoke to everybody in Fijian before welcoming us in English. From then on it was all about the singing. The men and women sang with the most powerful voices in perfect harmony. We all listened in silence and awe as they sung their hearts out. All but one person. One person who attempted to sing along even though he couldn’t speak a word of Fijian and had never head the song before. Yep, you guessed it. The total plonker in white. What was he thinking. That life was life a Disney movie and that the second he started singing her would immediately know the words. That the whole church was going to break out in a synchronised dance with fireworks and singing birds in the trees. Idiot! Look there they are on the right as we walked down to the church.

The children were amazing too. No matter where you are in the world children are all the same. All they want to do is have fun. And the main way of doing this is to inflict as much pain on another child as they possibly can. They spent the entire duration of the service punching, pinching and biting their nearest friend. There were laughs and there were tears. But in the end when it came to their turn to sing, the smashed it. The whole service was a pleasure to be a part of. Even if we had to put up with the Jesus wannabe behind us.

After that we had nothing left to do but say our goodbyes to the island and head back out to sea toward Nadi on the main land again. But now I’m back in the frame of writing again I will leave that for next time.

Thanks again for returning and reading. Sorry it’s been so long.

Thanks for following x

BULA BULA!

We’re in Fiji baby. Actually that’s a lie. We’re not. But for the sake of the blog, we are. I was hoping to wrap Fiji up in a single blog but as I’m writing I can tell there’s is way to much to just cram into one. And why should I. So I shall write the whole thing, then split it up into perhaps two blogs. So here goes…

Our flight from Auckland to Nadi was a lovely one. Courtney managed to make it through without her head exploding and the staff aboard were top class. Not being the most well known of airlines we really weren’t sure what to expect from Fiji Airways. I mean we hoped for things like wings and air sealed windows but you really cannot assume anything in this world. Not without making an ‘ASS’ out of ‘U’ and ‘ME’ that is (think about it).

Thankfully however the plane had both these things and a lot more too. We had some really nice grub and also managed to see away a few beers and and glass of red thanks to the airhost’s willingness to see us fall face first out the plane once we’d landed. Either that or he knew the pilot’s track record when it came to landing and thought we’d all be better off intoxicated when it came to it. We almost never made it on the flight anyway when I had a slight mishap with the boarding passes. I lost them. I knew for sure that I had placed them inside everyone’s passports but they weren’t there. The passports were but the boarding passes weren’t. I checked everywhere. The girls kept asking stupid questions like “have you checked your pockets”. Do they really think I wouldn’t check my pockets. I’m not wearing parachute trousers. Do they not think I would know if they were there?….

…anyway they were in my pocket. So. Yeah. Whatever.

Once we’d landed safely and we’d stumbled into the airport we were welcomed by a group of singing Fijians. It was such a nice way to rid you of the city feel we’d had from Auckland and smooth you in to the more chilled out Fijian vibe. The locals here are well known for doing things in their own time. Fiji Time. This must be where the girls get their own watches from. They are so relaxed and always happy. Everybody here says hello or BULA to you no matter whether they’ve met you before or not. The Thais were very much the same but they more often than not wanted something in return. Here they are simply happy to see you.

We spent our first nights in a hotel called Wailoaloa. For Soph and I it felt like we’d just gone back in time to our period in Asia. It was dark but still so hot and there were lizards climbing all over the walls. The hotel was only £5 a night for a bed in one of their dorms, but when we checked in they’d over booked so could only give us a private room for the 3 of us….at the same price. WiFi was free and there was a really nice pool too. We had really landed on our feet here.

Soph was still feeling a little delicate so after dinner Courtney and I were the ones to venture out and see what was around. But we were on a road in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. There was nothing around but over grown grass and certainly no street lights. We made our way towards what we hoped was a shop as our eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness. We were starting to feel a little silly that we’d even began this walk when out of nowhere a pack of raging wild dogs starting barking at us from behind a fence. We lept out of our skin so fast we left a cartoon styled silhouette of ourselves on the pavement. I, of course, wasn’t scared of them. I was just simply startled by Courtney’s screams.

As we walked further in to the darkness we were over taken by a car that seemed to slow down as it passed us. It then stopped a few hundred yards ahead and began to slowly turn around. It then turned its main beams on and shined them in our direction. This was going to be it. The end. We were about to be attacked and thrown into the back seats of some Fijian Gangster’s BMW before being skinned and cooked alive to a good medium rare. And all I had as protection was Courtney, who, when I looked over my shoulder, had thought it less suspicious to simply jump head first into the nearest bush. This really was then end…. *gulp*

But then, all of a sudden, the danger passed. The car drove towards us but simply continued on its journey without so much as a look. In fact they were probably more concerned with the fact one of us was sticking out upside down from a bush. A close shave perhaps. Once we’d finally arrived at the shop we found it was unlike most convenience stores we’d come across. First off it was super bright. Opening the doors was like walking through the gates of heaven itself. Just with a Fijian on the door instead. The shelves were big and deep but they would only ever place one item out at a time. You would need to have a word with the management if God forbid you wanted 2 bottles of coke. Anyway this shop was a tad strange but it did have the snacks we required, so we took them back to Soph who was being a brave little soldier all tucked up in bed.

We stayed at this hotel for a few nights before they decided we’d been staying in a private room long enough now and wanted us to pay more or get out. We hadn’t the money to pay the true price of the room so moved down the road to the beach front where our new home for the next 3 nights would be.

When almost every person ever comes to Nadi they stay in a place could Smuggler’s Cove. It’s located right on the beach in the middle of a row of hostels and mini hotels. Yet Smugglers is where people go whether they’re staying there or any of the others on the road. It has a large restaurant and they always have something going on like fire dancing for example. Yet, we weren’t staying there. We were staying at a place called Bamboo just along the road. Our room was a 16 bed dorm that looked more like a war time hospital ward. There was hot water but all the hot taps had been dismantled so nobody could use it. Which was nice of them. The girls were on two single beds on one side of the room while I was opposite them. However I was lucky enough to be next to a man we later nicknamed ‘Wet Fart Man’. You can probably work out for yourself why he had this name but in case you can’t, he was a rather overweight sweaty 65+ year old man who, whenever he nodded off, would release a gas of biblical proportions toward my face. Yummy.

We spent our days in the town of Nadi simply chilling out in the beach chairs provided by Smuggler’s. We basically lived out our 6 days sleeping and topping up the tan. Which I might add has come on leaps and bounds. The girls still think they’re pale even though people are now turning lights off to conserve electricity when they walk into a room. I’m pretty content. I have a distinct shorts line and that’s all I care about. With 5 days in New York to come it will all be gone by the time we get home anyway.

Very quickly Saturday 4th April came around and it was the day we were leaving Nadi to venture off to a couple of Fiji ‘s amazing islands. It also happened to be my birthday. Yay me. The girls had very kindly stolen some balloons from Smugglers and placed them on my bed for when I got back from the bathroom that morning. They’d also made me a little card from a postcard so I wasn’t too empty handed for my special day. Not that I could be. I was in Fiji!

We caught our boat to the island of Mana in the group of islands called the Mamanuca Islands. As we came in the sea was literally the most amazing colour blue. The coral reef below our feet was abundant with the brightest coloured fish and other sea life. As we stepped off the boat and into the water we were once again greeted by a team of singing islanders with their mini guitars and smiling faces. It was as if they’d been waiting all their lives for this moment when us three came to their tiny island home.

Checking in we came face to face with a lovely girl called Erin. We’d met her two days before when she came barging in to our room in Nadi smacking me on the backside with the door, sending me into a face first dive towards the floor. We ended up going for dinner with her and playing a few games of cards one evening. She wished me a happy birthday and shot off to continue her diving lessons. Later we found out we were actually sharing a room with her too. Her and an Irish guy called Charlie. Built like a two story house, Charlie was an intimidating bloke with his thick Irish accent. The sort of person who on the third time of not full understanding what he just said you would rather just nod and smile to than ask again. But Charlie, when you could grasp what he was saying, was possibly the funniest person ever.

At dinner for our first night we sat at a table with Erin and Charlie who were starting to congratulate me on making it to my 27th birthday, perhaps an age not so common for the Irish, when the island’s New Zealand diving instructor jumped up and shouted, “is it your birthday”.

….”yes”…..

At first I was rather worried what this rather over excited Kiwi had in store for me. Turned out it was a free drink. And things just kept getting better. First the girls pulled out a couple of presents they’d managed to find back in Nadi. They got me a very colourful bracelet and a wooden decorative mask meant to give the owner good luck. Then, as the evening’s entertainment was about to start, the lights all went out and a large group of singing Fijians appeared with a cake and a cheeky candle in it. They surrounded me and sang a Fijian happy birthday for about 10 minutes before all shaking my hand and giving me a pat on the back. It was a really great thought and fully organised by the girls. A perfect birthday in Fiji.

The next day, and now officially 27, we heading out for a spot of snorkelling. Soph and I, you may remember from a previous blog, managed to spot a huge turtle when snorkelling on the island if Gili Trawangan just off the coast of Bali. But Courtney hadn’t joined us at that point and still really wanted to get in the water and see some fish. And what we saw was nothing short of amazing. The coral was fantastic and had every type of fish you could ever want to see living with in. Clown fish were everywhere, as well as bright blue starfish scattered along the ocean floor. Such a shame we didn’t have an underwater camera as it would have been great to show you just a glimpse of what we did.

Floating on the surface with your face in the water is possibly one of the calmest places on Earth. Starring into a world so different from our own with nothing but the sound of your own breath as a soundtrack. Yet our calmness didn’t last long. I’m not exactly the best swimmer in the world and after a while I just want to have my feet on some firm ground. This causes me to panic a little and lead to more and more water leaking into my mask. Then there’s Sophie. Somehow Soph’s feet began to suffer from extreme cramp. She was screaming with agony as she attempted to swim back to shore. Yet by this time the current had got stronger and the waves choppier. So with me now totally unable to breathe and Soph’s feet curling inwards on themselves it was down to Courtney to safely guide us back to dry land. It took us a good 15 minutes and we ended up with limbs full of cuts and bruises as we smashed into the sharp coral and jagged rocks, but we did it. You’ll be pleased to know Soph’s cramp instantly disappeared once out and I am also still alive. So thanks Courtney. We are pretty useless in the water it would seem.

We spent the rest of our days on Mana sleeping on the beach in the morning before the girls took photos of themselves in the afternoons. Sometimes they would ask me to join. Not for the photos but so I could take more of them together. Blatantly because they knew I’d upstage them by striking a pose of super model standard of course. It’s amazing how many photos they’ll take and then never let anyone see. Any photo you ever see on this blog now has to go through a whole range of quality control measures conducted by the girls. Never can a photo break through unchecked. Never!

When it comes to food on Mana you get what your given. There’s no menu or choice at all for that matter. We had already paid for our meals as part of the booking before we left Nadi so we couldn’t really afford to let a dish pass us by whether we liked it or not. Something not so easy when you’re as fussy as I. Soph is also a tad fussy but nothing like me. Thankfully the meals weren’t too bad, apart from one night. Fish pasta night. All three of us hate fish. We love tropical fish swimming around our faces. But dead cooked fish is not our cup of tea at all. So when this fishy dish came out smothered in garlic and butter (2 other things I can’t stand) things really weren’t looking good. I slowly made my way through it like the good boy I am, while the girls smashed their way through it like it was a bowl of chocolate ice cream.

That night Soph woke up around 2am with the sudden urge to be sick. We rushed to the bathroom and stood as she took deep breaths and attempted to feel better. She was adamant she didn’t want to throw up in case she woke Erin and Charlie up. She didn’t care about Courtney. Neither did she need to. Courtney came stumbling in a few moments later also complaining of feeling sick. We spent the next hour of that night at the public toilets near the bar where the girls occupied both cubicles throwing up their rather iffy garlic fishy pasta dishy. Poor girls. I on the hand was fine.

Leaving Mana island we were feeling a little sad. The food had been…ok…the showers were cold and the sea had left us nursing some deep wounds, but we’d loved it. The island was beautiful and exactly what we’d expected. Next we would move on to the island of Waya and the Octopus resort. I will leave that and the rest of our days in Fiji for next time. I already can’t wait to tell you about our first day in Los Angeles so it won’t be long I promise.

Ah yes so we are now in Los Angeles. For those not blessed with the knowledge of Geography, like Courtney for example who struggled to find England on a world map, we are on the Western side of the United States in a state called California. You may of heard of it. We have gone from being 11 hours ahead of the UK to being 7 hours behind it. I don’t even know what day it is any more. Not that it matters. We haven’t got work in the morning.

Thanks for following x

Happy Monday to you all.

I’m sure after last week’s long Easter weekend this weekend probably went quicker than anyone would have liked. The thought of only having two days off is starting to cause us sleepiness nights actually. The girls have started to have midday break downs too. I’m sure the closer we get to May 4th the worse it will get, but as it stands they’re only bursting into tears once a day. I just sob quietly into my pillow so that nobody can hear me….

“Why’s my pillow so wet? Uhm…Just sweat you know. It was boiling last night….ha…..ha….”

Right so I am going to attempt to wrap up our New Zealand adventures in this blog and then hopefully move on to Fiji. That way by the time we touch ground in LA we will have caught up and I can let you know about all the new movie roles they’ve offered me over in Hollywood. Bound to happen.

So we’ve left the stunning little town of Franz Joseph, carrying with us a truck load of lactic acid throughout every muscle in our bodies. Nobody was up for walking ever again after the previous days 9 hour trek to and from Fox glacier. Actually I forgot to mention the name of the glacier was Fox glacier. In hindsight we would have saved ourselves a lot of bother if we had just stood on top of a Fox’s Glacier Mint and taken a photo. We certainly wouldn’t have been lying when someone asked if we’d climbed to the top of the Fox glacier.

Anyway with all our aching muscles the last thing we were up for was an early morning hour long trek around a supposedly very special lake. But being the Kiwi Experience it would be silly of us to think we could go a single day without some sort of epic walk being forced upon us. So with all our strength we got out the bus and started our walk around Lake Matheson. We had been told that at certain times of the day you can catch a really good reflection in the water, which of course would be a great photo opportunity. We walked around and saw it was rather nice but nothing to really write home about. That is until we reached the other side. The view, as I’m sure you will agree, was absolutely amazing. In fact the photos don’t even do it justice. You honestly couldn’t tell the difference between the stillness of the lake and the sky above. It may have hurt, but the walk was well worth it.

Our next top was Lake Wanaka….there was a lake….

Moving on, our next stop was to be Queenstown. By far the single most eagerly anticipated destination on the Kiwi Experience agenda. Not for me mind. Queenstown is the adrenaline junkies heaven on Earth. Bungee jumping was invented here. It attracts people from all over the world to do something ridiculous that throws you way out of your comfort zone for, apparently, fun. You may have guessed I am not one for throwing myself off a cliff. However the girls are and so they were extremely excited to finally be there.

We checked into a Nomads hostel right in the centre of the city. Even through it’s so popular and well known, Queenstown is a very small place. We walked into our 5 bed dorm accompanied by our now best buds Millie and Kavita. Even though we had about 8 years on these girls they were awesome to be around, and it was a lot easier to keep them than to try and find new mates….just joking girls…we could have found new friends well easily…

Our room was amazing. It had a balcony that over looked the giant lake that the city sat on and the stretch of mountains that seemed to guard the city like a huge wall. It had an ensuite bathroom and all the beds were super comfy. Sure the staff treated us like misbehaving 4 year olds but you can’t have it all now can you.

That first night was like a massive celebration. As Queenstown is such a top destination for the Kiwi passengers, many people stay here for a long time. Therefore a lot of people move on and have to say their goodbyes to the friends they’ve had for the past 3 to 4 weeks. We went on a mini pub crawl, had a free BBQ and even got to see some fella (someone the girls had taken a huge dislike to) run as far as he possibly could with a bungee rope attached to him while wearing absolutely no clothes. Turns out I actually know his girlfriend from when I worked at Nizels. Interesting…

Our second day of our 4 in Queenstown was to be perhaps Soph’s most significant of her entire trip. She had been looking forward to this day since she saw a video of our friend Rachael about 4 years ago. Today the girls were going to do the Canyon Swing. For those that don’t know, and I don’t blame you for not, the Canyon Swing is a bungee with a twist. You simply jump off a 109m cliff, freefalling for 60m before being swung outward a further 200m, picking up ridiculous speed. I had the very important job of filming this event as Soph, Courtney, Millie and Kavita went down to the platform to gear up. It was scary, it was intense, it really was a high pressured situation. But thankfully I was able to hold the camera steady and get the shots the girls were all after.

I stood with all the other sensible people who had come along to watch. Many were worried they would miss their loved one jump, but there was absolutely no chance I would miss Soph and Courtney’s go. They screamed loud enough to make the American flag on the moon fall over. Paramedics were on standbye of course but they would have been to busy dealing with those with burst eardrums than to look after any serious bungee malfunction injuries. They squeeled all the way down as they were dropped upside down by the guys on the platform. The videos are up on the Backpacking Live Facebook page if you fancy seeing for yourselves. We’ll chuck them on YouTube when we get home too so you can all see. It was funny. So yes, well done girls. Much braver than me.

Day 3 and Courtney finally found a place that could colour in the roots of her hair. Both Soph and I had a sudden panic when she first appeared after having it done. She looked exactly the same as she did before she went in and we were starting to consider how long we could lie about the huge improvement compliments she was was hoping to get from us. Soph has a record of 4.3 seconds before someone realises she is telling a lie, so things weren’t looking promising. Thankfully as she came closer things became more evident and we could compliment her without having to fake it. Everyone’s a winner. Our third day was also a bit of an arts and crafts day. Thanks to a little tip from our friends Beckie and Ella we found a bracelet shop where you could make your own bracelets. We have been picking them up along the way in all the countries we’ve been but hadn’t found any in New Zealand until then. It was actually a really fun time waster and one I turned out to be rather good at. See…

Day 3 was also the last day Ziggy would be around as she was moving on a bit earlier so she could catch her flight to Asia where she could buy a 3 story house for 2 bottle caps and a slinky. To celebrate this and to say our heartfelt goodbyes we all went out for one last night together. It was a sad evening for Courtney as she was saying goodbye to her baby sister who she wouldn’t see again for a good few months. For Ziggy, she couldn’t wait to get away from her older sister and start living life like a princess in Thailand. Anyway it was another good evening even though we personally stayed away from the outrageously priced alcohol.

Then all of a sudden it’s day 4 and our last in Queenstown. As well as being a great town for adrenaline junkies and those looking for top notch nightlife, the city is also an awesome city for those who love frisbee. And I love frisbee. I treated myself to a new one that changes colour from white to purple when in contact with UV light. They also had a frisbee golf course around the outside of their main city park. So us 5 and the remaining lot from Ziggy’s group headed down to watch me smash the course out with my eyes shut. For me it was a super day as I hadn’t really played any sport in about 5 months, and it was made even better by the girls tagging along without having to be knocked out and dragged down there. So thanks girls. I had a great time.

Unfortunately, as it is almost every night in Queenstown, our last day was to end in another evening of goodbyes. We were moving on sooner than Millie and Kavita who were shooting off to the deep south of New Zealand. We had really enjoyed hanging out with two kids who if you messed them around would happily knock your teeth out, yet they could complete a rubix cube before most people could get one row. It was sad but we would see them again in San Francisco. So see you then girls.

We left Queenstown and stayed in a small lodge on the side of yet another lake. Lake Tekapo was also home to some of the best stary skies in the world. We had the chance to climb to the top of a near by hill and visit the planetarium and massive telescope that the place was famous for. We didn’t want to spend much money but I was really up for this. I’ve got a bit a geekish attraction to anything space related so would have loved the opportunity to look through the telescope. Unfortunately it was so expensive it would have been cheaper to buy a spaceship and go to the stars ourselves than to look at them from a billion Miles away. Never mind.

There really was nothing else here. I did climb to the top of that hill but just to see the view. The girls had started to fill a tad ill after all the late nights in Queenstown so stayed at the bottom by the lake. It’s more of a detox destination than anything else.

We left the next morning for our last destination on the Kiwi bus. The slightly eerie city of Christchurch. Back in late 2010 Christchurch was hit by a pretty nasty earthquake. Thankfully no damage seemed to have been done and the injury toll was kept to a minimum. What the locals hadn’t realised is that this earthquake had weakened many of the buildings in the city and left them, pretty much, hanging by a thread. When a smaller and much weaker earthquake hit later in 2011 there was nothing anyone could do. The city collapsed and many lives were lost as a result. As we drove in the normally larger than life bus driver completely changed his attitude. He became quiet and very sincere with everything he did say. It was clear that this natural disaster not only impacted Christchurch but it rocked an entire nation. There are on going efforts to repair the city but these apparently have a completion date somewhere after 2025. I’ll be 37 by then and that doesn’t even bare thinking about.

We were catching a flight that evening back up to Auckland so didn’t need a room to stay. Very kindly our friends Beckie and Ella allowed us to use their room as a place to store our bags while we ventured round the city together. We went to the museum and the old cathedral, which as you can see is in ruins now.

We visited the new cardboard cathedral and also took a look at their makeshift shopping centre. They had come up with the idea of turning shipping containers into shops and stacking them up on one another. To be honest the girls didn’t really like Christchurch and I think that was because of the sad feeling the place had. It does sound weird but as you walked around you could feel that something wasn’t right. That the people of Christchurch were still mourning that dreadful day when everything changed. Some top American magazines have actually voted Christchurch as one of the world’s top cities for the future. Basically because they now have the chance to restart a fresh. Although I’m sure it must be difficult knowing that this could happen again at any moment.

We left for the airport at around 8pm even though our flight wasn’t until 6am. We decided spending the night on the floor of an airport would be much more financially beneficial than paying and leaving a hostel before 4am. Something we all deep down regretted. We were all feeling pretty under the weather and just wanted our own beds. Instead we had to endure the worst flight ever. Courtney was a mess by the time we reached our hotel in Auckland. Her ears would not pop midflight so she was feeling the agony I felt flying from Perth to Melbourne. Not nice at all.

Back in Auckland we were lucky enough to find ourselves a hotel that was cheap enough to hold all three of us in a private room. We spent the days trying to recover by watching Harry Potter films in the evening and eating chunky soups. We did walk around a few times but the weather was atrocious to say the least.

We were actually meant to be travelling up north to the bay of islands but due to us all feeling like death was just around the corner, we decided to stay in bed instead and see a bit more of Auckland. Thankfully we were moving on to the land of constant Sun and smiling locals a few days later. If that doesn’t fix you up nothing will.

So that’s New Zealand in a rather large nutshell. Tomorrow I shall give you the full lowdown on our amazing time in Fiji. We actually leave for Los Angeles on Wednesday at 9:40pm Fiji time (10:40am GMT). I’m off to sit by the pool. Enjoy your day.

Thanks for following x

Welcome back. All good? Manage to make it through that last rather long blog? That’s good.

Oh, you didn’t?….let’s just pretend you did.

Ok so we are leaving Wellington and the north island behind us in search of the tiny weenie town of Kaiteriteri (ky-tiri-tiri). First however we would need to grab our stuff and head for the bus by 6am so we could then catch our morning ferry to the south island. I imagined this journey to be a bit of a formality. That the gap between the north and south was close enough to step over if you were in a rush. Alas, I was very wrong. All together with the 45 minute waiting around time, it took us just under 4 hours to reach the other side. The journey was actually rather comfortable and some of us even managed to spot a group of dolphins guiding us toward our destination. Most people had fallen back to sleep though.

We had heard many great things about the south island. Mainly that it was even more breathtaking than the north. Something made clearly evident the second the island came into view. Never before has the phrase “the grass is greener” been more appropriate. The mountains are higher, the trees are greener and the water bluer. The sea weaved its way into the main land so as if we were now floating down a river. Hills either side of us hid private little beaches with a tiny house and bloke sitting on his boat fishing away. It was a beautiful sight, but as I said before, most people were too busy sleeping to actually see it.

After we docked and then caught another long bus, we arrived at Kaiteriteri. A miniscule town on the edge of the huge Abel Tasman National Park. If I remember rightly he was some Dutch bloke who stumbled across New Zealand a little before Captain Cook but instead of being nice he shot a couple of the natives who intern killed a couple of his men. Fair to say he didn’t particularly care for this land much after that. Never the less he has a large park named after him, and we were there to see it.

We checked into our room and quickly headed out to see the beach less than 50ft away from the hostel. Unfortunately we had forgotten we were in New Zealand and that even when it’s super sunny, it’s very rarely warm. So we headed back inside, had some dinner and then headed to the bar. But not for drinks. Oh no. Tonight was quiz night.

We had been desperate for a quiz night for weeks. All the hostels we stay at usually put something on each night to entertain the guests and usually it’s a quiz night. But every time we get to one we are either a day late or we are leaving the day before. So there was no way were going to miss this. We sat down and invited a couple of random girls to join our team. They were training to be vets so undoubtedly had some brain power in there somewhere. Then we also invited a couple if 18 year old girls who we’d met on the boat that morning, Millie and Kavita. There were no boys…

…there’s never any boys….

…Any who we smashed the quiz. I mean we didn’t win it but we did beat Courtney’s sister’s team and that really was all we cared about. Ziggy and her team had no chance against our mighty brains. Interestingly the hostel we were staying in was run by some bloke who, in his day, was rather famous for founding some kids tv programme called the Wiggles. I’ve never heard of him or his programme but perhaps some of you have. After acting as quiz master he picked up his guitar and sung a few songs at literally the loudest volume ever. A rocket could have been taking off behind us and we’d have never heard it over his racket. We went to bed pretty sharpish after that.

This place was literally reserved for the Kiwi Experience travellers only so was packed pretty much every night. Although they only guarantee you one night here, we were told we should try and stay two. However when we got there they told us there was no way we could do that. That day two full buses were turning up and they had no room. Usually this wouldn’t be a problem. We would go for a walk and find somewhere else to stay. But in Kaiteriteri there is nowhere else. Nowhere at all. And we’d already reserved our places on the next days bus. So we were in a spot of bother here.

Thankfully one of the two receptionist had the power to force out a smile at least once a fortnight and we just so happened to find her on that very day. She organised for us and a few others to be taken to a near by town where another hostel could take us in. However we weren’t the only ones in need of some where to stay. Ziggy and her mates were shipped off to a place apparently just 10 minute walk away from the beach. While we were driven 20 minutes out to a place called Old McDonald’s Farm in the middle of nowhere. At first we were pretty angry about the situation as the only other people we had for company were a group of dribbling llamas, but soon we made a pretty formidable group and made the best out of our time together. So the three of us accompanied by two Brighton girls, Beckie and Ella, our mates Millie and Kavita from the quiz and the lovely Claire from our room in Wellington, set off for a walk through the National Park.

At first the girls were not too keen on the idea of walking up and down hills even if it did result in some pretty fantastic views. However as time has gone on they have really come to enjoy a nice stroll. And this one was lovely. We came across private beaches and panoramic views we never would have seen had we stayed in Kaiteriteri. And our luck was made further evident when we discovered Ziggy and her mates had been shipped to a place where you had to pay for hot water by the minute. We really had been lucky there.

The next day we had to leave Claire behind as she was attempting to spend another night on the farm with only the llamas as friends. As for the rest of us, we were now back on the bus and off to the small surf town of Westport. If you ask me this was another pretty pointless place as there was nothing to do here unless of course your hair was way too long and you spent every waking moment of your life rubbing wax on a long piece of plastic. For this reason we decided to up the excitement levels and offer to sleep in a tent. This also allowed us to save some much needed money, so we jumped at the chance not really considering how cold it might get later on.

A Westport tradition for the Kiwi Experience is to take a late evening bus down to the beach and start a fire. We watched as the Sun set over the sea before looking for some wood to throw on the fire. Things were going really well too. The night sky was one of the best we’d ever seen, clearly showing off the Milky Way in all its glory. Some clever thinking girl thought to bring a bag if marshmallows down with her. She was even kind enough to offer one to each person around the fire. One, that is until Soph stuck her hand in and rather politely came out with half the contents of marshmallows. The girl seemed to consider this for a moment but then smiled and moved on. Never offer your marshmallows to Soph. She will take them. All of them.

Back at our tent we had realised it was a rather silly idea to spend the night freezing to death in order to save ourselves £5. Walking into our tent was like unzipping a porthole to the Antarctic. We had to let two penguins and a family of polar bears out before we could even get in. Thankfully there was plenty of free tea on offer in the kitchen to help us muster up the courage to dive in our beds.

The next morning we wiped away the icicles from our chins and headed to the bus for our next destination, Lake Mahinapoa. Again there is absolutely nothing here. However the story goes that many years ago a Kiwi bus broke down on its way to the glacier town of Franz Joseph. Looking for some help the driver walked into a small pub and asked the owner, Les, if he had room for the passengers to stay the night. He did and was extremely happy to have so many customers. So much so he probably upped the prices and took advantage of them all as much as he possibly could. Anyway from then on Kiwi drivers would pop in to say hi and thank Les for his generosity. This happened so frequently that Kiwi decided to make it a genuine stop on their programme. Unfortunately Les became sick and died a few years later putting an end to the relationship between the pub and Kiwi. Thankfully some bright spark decided there was an awful lot of money to be made and so bought the pub and rekindled the link with Kiwi. So now we stop there again and have a huge fancy dress party in honour of Les. The theme for our fancy dress was bad taste.

At first the girls thought that would mean perhaps something that tastes bad. But no. It meant something disgustingly bad that even Hitler would consider it out if order. In fact some went dressed as Hitler. Some went as used sanitary towels. Some even went as members of ISIS. We weren’t quite that bad. I had considered going as dead Les, the dead guy that used to own the pub, but thought it was perhaps a dash too far. I simply went as Lance Armstrong holding a few paracetamol in a food bag and the girls went as two 14 year old pregnant jezebels. However the best and ultimately the winner of this fancy dress contest were our mates Millie and Kavita. During the day, with me acting as a look out, they snuck into the luggage compartment on the bus and stole two of the Kiwi Experience t-shirts from the driver’s bags. They drew on a bit of facial hair and went as the drivers themselves. Obviously everybody loved this and couldn’t believe they had actually managed to sneak into their bags like they had. It turned out to be a really good night and one I’m sure most people would rather not have any pictures from. I can’t imagine having your family see you dressed as a tampon would be high on anyone’s list.

So we moved on again the following morning pretty early. We had to race down there because our old driver Wazza had lost his keys to the bus while searching for the next 18 year old girl to take back to his room. By the time we got there he was walking around like he had just been smacked and sent to his room. Perhaps he should be. Something for the Kiwi head office to consider.

Right so the last town for today’s blog. The beautiful town of Franz Joseph. Positioned at the bottom of a group of mountains the town is the main stop for people wishing to visit one of the fastest moving glaciers in the world. You can catch a helicopter to the top and walk around on the ice, or you can walk high up the mountain and get as close as you can. Walking around on the top of glacier sounded like possibly the coolest thing ever (coolest…get it) but for the price it would cost I was surprised we wouldn’t be able to keep the helicopter that actually took us there. So instead we set off for a walk.

Our mate Millie was feeling pretty rich so took the easy way up via the helicopter. That left the three of us, Kavita, Ziggy and all her buddies to climb to the top. It is important to point out, as I can’t remember if I haven’t already, that young Ziggy was involved in a pretty awful motorbike accident that left her with a mashed up leg not long before coming away. However it also left her with the ever burning desire to take on all the sorts of activities someone with a bad leg probably shouldn’t be doing. And it was that sort if never say die attitude that not only got her up the mountain, but all of us.

Perhaps the sign at the beginning that said this walk was for experienced mountaineers only should have put us off, but instead it just spurned us all on. This wasn’t just any old walk. It was climbing over huge rocks, jumping across waterfalls, clambering through fallen trees. Along the way we would ask those coming back down how far we had left. Surprisingly this went from half hour to 60 minutes to 90 minutes the closer we got. Nobody seemed to have any idea. Then we came face to face with two boys on their way down. Funny enough they seemed to look similar to some people we’d met in Australia….

…No honestly that really does look like Sam and Will from Fraser Island…

HOLY SMOKES IT IS SAM AND WILL.

There we are half way up a mountain in the middle if New Zealand and we come face to face with people we know. It’s a small world as they say…crazy.

When we eventually reached the summit the glacier was right there in front of us. It wasn’t as good or as close as we hoped but to be honest the walk was worth all the pain. We lost count of the waterfalls we saw falling from the top of the glacier. We even managed to do the whole thing without Ziggy’s leg falling off completely. A huge achievement all round. By the time we got back to the hostel we had been walking for 9 hours and could no long feel our feet. The walk was meant to last a maximum of 6 hours, so what took us so long we don’t know. Perhaps it was the fact we had to save Court and Soph from their deaths as they slipped down the rocks almost every time they stepped foot on one. Perhaps. I don’t know.

Back at the hostel we discovered a whole crew of people that we’d met in Australia were there with Sam and Will. So we spent the evening catching up on how we’d been getting on. It was a great evening.

Ok so that’s that. Made some good progress there. Hopefully things won’t be quite so long tomorrow.

Thanks for following x

Ok, sorry about that. 

I had intended on catching you all up on our New Zealand travels in some back to back blog updates. However we flew to Fiji, got on a boat to I tiny remote little island and found they had no WiFi. Obviously. But now we do so it’s time to crack on. The girls have been pestering me on an hourly basis too, so it’s about time we got back on track. I mean they’re pestering me with some rubbish everyday, just recently it’s been about the blog. In order to catch up this will be a rather long one. So perhaps call your boss and take the day off for it.

Oh oh, and I had my birthday the other day and was totally unable to respond to anyone’s birthday wishes. So thanks if you did. If you didn’t send any then now you have an excuse as I couldn’t have received them anyway. Ta.

So where were we? Are yes. Waitomo and the freezing cold glow worm caves. Our one and only night there was spent in a really nice four bed room in a country style lodge. It also had a pretty cool bar out the back where they brewed their own beer on site. Something we couldn’t possibly miss out on. Soph, Courtney and I, accompanied by our new friend Tommy went down there after our pot noodle dinner to grab a cheeky drink. It was actually a really good evening where we chatted away with the friends we’d made at the glow worm caves. When you travel around from place to place, meeting new faces everywhere you go, you do end up telling the same stories about each other each time. How I left my job at the hotel, how Courtney came out to meet us in Melbourne, how Soph skipped the Indian gene. After a while everyone stops asking and just gets on with their lives without needing to know these things. However it is quite interesting hearing about all the life experiences these 18/19 year old kids think they’ve had. I’m 27 now. These wee youngsters don’t know a thing about life. Now where are my slippers?

Stop 3 was a little town called Rotorua. Unlike Hot Water Beach and Waitomo, Rotorua was actually a town. It had all the things you’d expect to see from a normal town. A supermarket, a park, a McDonald’s drive-through. Yet again, like all the stops in New Zealand, it was famous for one very special thing. It’s geothermal activity. The whole town was under a cloud of hot steam escaping through cracks in the Earth’s surface. Effectively it was where the planet exhaled. Earth’s nostrils if you will. In fact scrap that. It was perhaps more like the planets backside because this town stank like rotten eggs. You could be happily walking down the high street, just about to take a bite into your Quarter Pounder when a stink bomb smacks you right in the face.

I really want to get across the smell of Rotorua, so imagine this if you will. A tale completely made up and 100% not about anyone I know…..You’ve decided to take up a few gym sessions while away at university. With this you start taking protein shakes. You make one but happen to get a call from your dad to say he is outside and ready to pick you up for your Christmas holidays. Unfortunately you forget about your fresh shake and leave it on your window seal in direct sunlight. Upon your return 3 weeks later you discover your now mouldy shake and go to the sink to wash it out. The second you open the lid everyone in the entire city of Portsmouth collapses. The overpowering smell you get from that shake is exactly what Rotorua is like on a daily basis. Apparently you get used to it. We didn’t.

However it was still a really interesting place to visit. With clothes pegs attached to our noses, we walked around in awe as the floor exploded into life all around us. Pools of mud boiling over as jets of water shot up from the ground high above our heads. We’d never seen, or smelt, anywhere like it.

We were lucky enough to spend 2 nights here and enjoy the not quite fresh air. During our first evening Courtney went off with the majority of the bus to an evening of Maori culture. The Maori people were those who settled in New Zealand before Captain Cook came over with all his European cronies. That little dance the All Blacks do before each match, that’s from them. Anyway Soph and I hadn’t the money to join in so we took ourselves into town to see what was going on in Rotorua that evening.

It wasn’t long before we found ourselves in the midst of a Chilean food festival with some live entertainment from Bruno Mars. Obviously it wasn’t him, but this kid was just as good! We tried a few different types of food and Soph got her favourite street dessert of Churros before we headed back to the hostel via the town’s huge lake. Rotorua sits on the edge of the biggest lake I’ve ever seen. It’s so big you would be forgiven for thinking you were by the sea with just a faint glimpse of land on the horizon. But with the weather now wet and horrible, we decided to return to our room.

Next stop was the slightly larger town of Taupo. Our bus was leaving pretty early again and this time we would have a new  driver. Catching a new bus is a bit of a nerve racking thing each time. I imagine it’s a bit like your first day at a new school where everyone has already made friends and the teacher already has their favourite. Our new bus driver was called Wazza. Stupid name. He was alright. But he was quite obviously seeing one of the 18 year old girls travelling with us. Her name was Princess….even the name is enough to make you want to smack her in the face with a pan soaked in honey and a thousand killer bees stuck to it. Her and her friend, who was in total denial that she had in fact turned 40 a few years ago, were the type of people that talk just to be heard. Nobody cares what they are chatting about but we have no choice but to listen as they speak louder than the entire bus combined. You all know those types.

Anyway you may have notice we weren’t their biggest fans. Mainly because they got special treatment wherever they went. I thought about flirting with the bus driver myself but decided I’d rather not become that person the whole bus hates.

So Taupo. Home to more geothermal activity but without the eggy smell. Home to an even larger lake than that of Rotorua, and the North Island’s main adrenaline filled destination. We had arrived on one of the town’s main annual events, Ironman day, so it was busy in town. We arrived pretty early so wanted to make the most of what was currently a pretty sunny day. We grabbed our stuff and a map from reception and headed for what we heard was a must see in Taupo. The hot springs.

By the time we arrived at the springs we had already fallen in love with the town. We had spent a while watching from the top of a river valley as people with much more courage than me jumped off the cliff face attached to a bungy rope. The water below was stunningly blue and the trees along the edges of the river formed the perfect postcard setting.

Having walked down the hill to the hot springs we were now by the edge of the river. We sat down just above it and stared curiously at all the people treading carefully in the knee high water. We saw a large group of people getting up and noticed they all had horrendous sun burn on the backs of their legs and back. It’s barely even been sunny so how on Earth they managed to get that we had no idea. But the second we stepped foot in the water we knew. That wasn’t Sun burn. That was water burn. Just like in hot water beach we could barely keep our feet on the ground. It was unbelievably hot water in the middle of a fast flowing river. There was like an invisible line that split the boiling water and the cold river water so that you could hop between the two when you fancied a change. It really was a strange place but one we couldn’t get enough of.

Feeling energised from our day of lazing in hot spring water we decided to go on a walk further down the river the next day. We travelled high and low along the river’s edge, watching the turquoise water make its way down hill. Along the way we bumped into an elderly couple from Kent, of all places. They were a super nice couple who had moved to New Zealand over 60 years ago and had their children and grandchildren on this side of the planet. I mean they seemed like they hadn’t seen another living person in that entire time because they talked and talked like it was their last day on earth. Which it may have been, they were pretty old. But it was lovely to hear about their adventures together and it certainly put a big smile on our faces.

After what seemed like a lifetime of walking we eventually arrived at the end of our trek. Huka Falls. A group of the most beautiful waterfalls smashing below our feet as we stood on a bridge above them. It was a tough walk in the heat to get there but the view was definitely worth the severe dehydration we suffered from later. Although it didn’t stop us from celebrating one of our newly made friend’s birthdays over a couple of jars that evening. And by jars I mean glasses of water. It’s not cheap out here you know.

Ok so moving on. Our next stop was a rather random place called River Valley. You can probably imagine what was there. A river valley. We were here for just an evening so some people could participate on some kayaking or some horse riding if they so wished. None of us were really bothered by the kayaks and only Courtney was even remotely interested in riding a horse, so we didn’t do much else but eat and sleep here. Personally there isn’t much else we’d rather NOT do than ride a horse. Lots of people, including Courtney, love a good horse. We on the other hand would rather sit in a locked room wearing Lady Gaga’s meat dress while watching a group of hatching T-Rex eggs, than have our coccyx bones beaten to a pulp by a horse’s back. But that’s just us.

What we did do however was sleep in a 32 bed dorm separated only by a makeshift wall from another 32 bed dorm. And these beds were simply a row of matresses positioned next to each other. Nicknamed the orgy room, this was certainly an experience to say the least. Thankfully everyone on our bus was more up for a good night’s sleep that anything else. Almost everyone.

Surprisingly this 64 matress show room turned out to be one of our best sleeps on the island. Funny how things turn out. Quickly moving on we headed for our next stop and our last on the north island. Wellington. The capital city of New Zealand. Having stopped along the way to go on a few different hikes, we only managed to arrive here late in the evening. The usual schedule designed by the Kiwi Experience would have us stay just the night here and leave at 6am . Obviously not enough time to explore such a huge place. So we made sure we had an extra day here to see the place. It was here that we made new friends with a lovely lady called Claire and a great lad called Greg. They’ll be more from them in the next blog.

Having now fully caught up with Courtney’s sister, Ziggy, we met up with her and her group of friends to go on a walk up a hill that would allow us to look over the entire city. Unfortunately the weather was miserable and by the time we had reached the summit we had been swallowed by a giant cloud. So basically we couldn’t see a thing. But instead of moping about we decided to immediately head back down and towards the city’s iconic museum. Something we hadn’t done in any of the different places we’d visited while away.

Of course it had nothing on the London museums but this place really was a superb attempt. There was a ton of stuff on the history of the country and the different animals native to it. Lots on the destruction caused across the country by superstorms and earthquakes. And it even had a cheeky bit of free WiFi in the cafe area. Something all good museums need. And thank goodness they did. While chilling out, checking the Backpacking Live Facebook, Courtney and Soph had received a message from a girl who had been on our bus but had left that morning. Apparently the bus driver Wazza expected us to be on his bus this morning. This was not good news. Surely we hadn’t made a mistake. Surely we hadn’t missed our bus!

Soph was the one in charge of the schedule so we were all looking at here when we heard the news. But she was adamant we hadn’t made a mistake and that we were 100% meant to be on the bus the following day. We rushed back to the hostel to check our paperwork. A walk that felt like a marathon. Soph shaking at the thought of her being wrong. Mainly because of the write up she would have got the the blog if she was. So was she right…

…she WAS! She had been right and it was Kiwi that had mucked up. Thankfully all was rectified by a quick and stern call to the office. Well done Soph, never doubted you for second. Courtney did, but I didn’t!

Unfortunately we hadn’t the time in our schedule to stay any longer in the city so had to move on the next morning. We spent our last evening walking around the main streets in search of a place where Courtney could get her roots done, or something like that. I’m still really not sure why she was so desperate to partake in some gardening when so far away from home but I suppose we all have different interests and hobbies don’t we. We never did find the weed killer she was after but I reckon we weren’t truly looking in the right places.

Anyway so that’s that. Hope you managed to get this far. I am finishing this at around 2am UK time and will post it as soon as possible. I will spend the rest of my day writing the next part so it can go up the next day. But don’t worry about me, I’m sure I’ll get through it sitting here.

Thanks for following x

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No no no……. It’s the blog! And it’s back with a bang! We have more stories and places to tell you about than ever before and of course further insight in to what it’s like to travel the world with two beautiful women….as well as Soph and Courtney….jokes!

Ok so first I’ll explain exactly what is going on with us and why we haven’t been online as much as we’d like. So as you know we are in New Zealand. It’s a stunning country with scenery we previously thought only possible in our dreams. We’d been told before that we would love the views around New Zealand but never thought it would be this good. No matter what direction you look you are always capturing a view fit for a luxury postcard. Perhaps one of those glossy ones they only keep inside the shop. It really is rather lovely here. Plus the weather has been brilliant. Or as the local Kiwis like to say, ‘Sweet as bro’.

In all the countries we have travelled so far we have done what ever we want, whenever we’ve wanted to do it. We have made our plan of action up as we go, moving from place to place as we please. New Zealand has been very different. Here we bought a ticket for the Kiwi Experience bus. Many of you may of heard of this before, but for those who haven’t it’s pretty much a tour bus that allows you to hop on and off at specific locations throughout both the north and south islands. The driver highlights points of interest along the way as well as stopping off as we travel to our next location so we can get out and go on a mini hike. It’s quite nice as we get to see waterfalls and hidden lakes in the middle of nowhere that we would never have seen were we making our own way around. So yeah, it’s nice.

Each day the driver will send clip boards around the bus for people to sign up to different activities that will be available at our next destination. Stuff like bungy jumps, sky dives etcetera. They will also send a clip board around for accommodation so we are guaranteed a room for when we arrive. So not only do we not have to travel around ourselves, we no longer need to worry about finding somewhere to sleep. All very nice.

All this allows you to make some pretty good friends as you go from place to place all experiencing the same places. I know what you’re thinking. It’s all too nice to be true. Well you’re right, not all is as nice as it seems. We’ve found that the ‘hop on hop off’ tag line the Kiwi Experience uses is more focused at some of the driver’s relationships with their passengers than the actual ability to change your time in any given location. It is so busy this time of year that changing your bus to the next day is way too risky. If you hop off the schedule you originally set, you may never get back on again without having to fight your way through a standby list of over 150 other travellers. Plus many of the drivers are a complete bunch of fishcakes. They are rude, racist, power hungry alcoholics who enjoy nothing more than demanding respect while they go around sleeping with their female passengers. I’ve printed off 25 copies and burnt my CV on to disc. I’m sending it in first thing Monday morning.

So, as there have been so many different places along the way, I shall attempt to sum up our events of each place rather than that of each day. Hopefully it will all go smoothly, but I will be blogging furiously to catch up asap. So expect rapid blog updates.

As all good reads do, we shall start at the beginning. Which in this case happens to be in Auckland. One of the country’s largest cities located in the northern part of the north island. The Kiwi Experience have been doing their thing since the magical year of 1988. And in this time they have managed to build up some significant buying power when it comes to choosing preferred hostels. The majority of these preferred hostels are owned by Base. So almost every place we stop we end up staying at a Base hostel. And Auckland is no different. Yet this hostel was more like a homeless shelter than anything else. Thankfully we would only be there for 2 days before catching our very first green kiwi bus.

Just like most large cities, Auckland is a pretty ugly concrete place. Skyscrapers and angry commuters who are probably going through marital problems, fed up with their miserable lives, perhaps wishing they’d done a little travelling in their youth. It does however have a nice little park in the centre and a rather tall tower like the one we climbed in Sydney. And it would be these two things that our first evening in New Zealand would be revolved around. First, however, Courtney was in for a very special treat. She was going to see her little sister. Doing a little trip of her own, Ziggy (Sigourney, if you’re wondering) had been in the country for a few days but obviously hadn’t seen her big sis since January when Court left England. So what better setting for their reunion than a dirty underground food ‘Court’. Brilliantly linked Ellsy, well done.

Unlike us three, Ziggy can make new friends easier than the only girl in the Sixth Form of an all boys school. People are literally adding her to their Christmas card list with the blink of an eye. And so it was that she had taken to this travelling business like she was born with dreadlocks and a backpack attached to her back. Corinne was her traveling partner for their 5 month trip around the world. Known each other since the beginning of their big school years, the two made a pretty good duo for not only making new friends but also getting from place to place without being kidnapped or injured or whatever else parents worry may happen to their little ones.

So we had dinner and shared a few tales of our trips so far. Good places to go, people we’ve met, how amazing this blog is….you know. General chit chat. We then headed over to the park in the town centre where we would get to experience a Chinese New Year festival with a few Chinese customs that we have all grown to love. You know the types of things; lots of lanterns, people taking selfies of themselves displaying a peace sign with their fingers, large groups cutting in front of your path before stopping for no good reason at all. It was a very interesting festival and a lot of fun walking around. I still don’t fully understand why they had a Chinese New Year festival in March when I’m pretty sure theirs is still January time, but oh well. It was good to see.

To finish the evening off we were treated to a firework show with a difference. The 5 of us found a little patch in the park where we sat down with a clear view of the Auckland Tower, now glowing red in the dark. We waited for a few moments until the display began from the very top of the tower. The show was a really nice treat and it felt like the perfect welcome to a new country. We didn’t manage to go up the tower like we did in Sydney and Kuala Lumpur, but we did get to see fireworks be let off from it. Beautiful stuff.

Ziggy and Corinne were catching their bus the day before us so we wouldn’t see them for a while until we could all meet up in a little town called Rotorua later that week. So after the show we headed back to Base for a few card games and an early night. When it came around to our bus leaving we would have to be down stairs ready at 7:30am to make sure we got a seat. Due to the Kiwi Experience office being about as efficient as an obese air hostess, we had been put on the standby list for our bus to Hot Water Beach. AKA, Stop 1. So we had to hope that at least three of the people booked on the bus had either gone out the night before and got too drunk, or they had found themselves stuck in the middle of a large group of Chinese tourists with their over sized cameras. A deadly mix. And perhaps one that proved too deadly, because when it came to the morning of our departure we got a seat by the skin of our teeth. Courtney only brushes her teeth on alternate days and luckily this was the morning of an unbrushed day. Few!

As I mentioned, Hot Water Beach was our first stop of our Kiwi Experience. A very quiet place with a unique tourist attraction. At low tide the sand starts to feel hot from the geothermal activity going on below the surface. Take a shovel and some swim shorts down when the sea is out and you can build your very own hot spa. Unfortunately for us, low tide wasn’t until 1am. Meh, we ain’t got work in the morning.

We had managed to make our very first friend in the shape of Tommy. Thankfully Tommy was a boy and liked boy things like moving above a snail’s pace and talking about stuff unrelated to their friend’s future weddings. So Tommy and I got on well. Sure, he was about as simple as a concussed sheep, but Tommy was rather good when it came to digging up sand and launching it into the sea. He made us a perfect jacuzzi big enough for the four of us to dip our bums in. It was a mind boggling place. The heat coming through the sand was at times too hot to stand in. With a name like Hot Water Beach, we sort of expected a little warmth to be felt under our feet but nothing like what we got. Google this place if you have a second. A tad mental.

We were only there for a single night before we would have to catch our next bus to Stop 2, Waitomo. However we had just enough time for Tommy and I to learn a few lessons. All of which came when we attempted to cook dinner. It turns out, that in the girls eyes, it’s near on illegal to chop a carrot without peeling it first. I honestly thought they were going to call the authorities when we brought that knife to within an inch of that carrot. I’m sure the police would have had more important things to do with their valuable time than arrest us on suspicion of not peeling a carrot, but just in case, we didn’t have the budget to bail me out in time for our morning bus, so we slowly walked away from vegetable and left the girls to it. A lucky escape.

We also had just enough time to realise Soph had misplaced her mobile. In fact she had left it on the bed back in Auckland, the silly billy. Thankfully we had also made friends with the slightly over eager housekeeper the night before and she had managed to hand it into reception for safe keeping. And the only place in the whole country we would actually be returning to was Auckland. So although she would have to go a month without her phone, she would get it back. Eventually.

So, the Waitomo bus was another early one. We had perhaps managed 4 hours sleep before we had to get up and jump on. We were officially on the list this time though so there would be no need to be extra early. Waitomo, like Hot Water Beach, was a very small town, famous for a very special tourist attraction. This was the home of some of the world’s best glow worm caves and had been on our list of must dos since day dot. A lovely walk in some millennia old caves, staring up at the glow worms like blue stars within arms reach. It sounded perfect and something we simply couldn’t miss out on. Yet there was a twist. We wouldn’t be simply making our way through the caves on foot, we would be sitting in rubber rings as we float along a series of underground rivers, jumping off ledges into pools of deep water. Pretty cool I must say.

However. The water was made of nothing less than liquid nitrogen. It was literally the coldest water ever. A dip in the frozen seas of Saturn’s moon’s would have been a more comfortable experience than this cave. It was really good fun and the glow worms were amazing, plus the guys that took us around the caves were awesome too and really helped you out when you struggled getting through a certain part. Yet we were in there for almost two hours. Any longer and we would have been cryogenically frozen until global warming had enough time to dry out the caves and release us from our icey cells. And if it wasn’t for our simple friend Tommy physically dragging the entire group through the water, we would have been. Another lucky escape.

So that’s that for part 1. My attempt at describing our days in less detail has not gone as hoped. However I’ve had fun writing again and hopefully you’ve enjoyed the read. We have really struggled for free WiFi to post while in New Zealand and even just the time to write. But you’ll be pleased, or at least we hope you will, to hear that WiFi is now a lot more accessible. So expect to hear from us more often.

Oh oh, and if anyone knows the correct way to spell ‘travelling’ (‘traveling’) or ‘travellers’ (‘travelers’) that would be of some help. Google seems to think both are right.

More tomorrow….

Thanks for following x

It’s a new day and a new blog from yet another new country. We have fled the land of the kangaroos and overweight fast food eating bags of sweat they call Australians and now find ourselves pretty much as far away from home as the planet allows. We are in New Zealand. The land of Bilbo Baggins and his tight fitting ring. The land of adrenaline and thrill seeking mentalists. A rather lovely part of the world. Yet we still have a couple of days left in Australia to tell. So this blog shall finish that off before cracking on with our Kiwi tales next time.

Our last night in Australia was spent in a hostel called Woodducks in Brisbane, where we had 3 of the beds in one of their 8 bed dorms. It seemed however that actually having a bed in this place meant pretty much nothing when it comes to sleep. The beds squeaked more than an over friendly mouse and the staff at this place partied harder than any of their guests did. When we arrived back to the hostel on our first night we were informed of a $2 BBQ being put on by the staff that very evening. Some good meat and perhaps some of those green leaf things the girls call salad sounded right up our street, so we put our names down and headed in.

Seconds later we came face to face with Events Manager Tom, who was in charge of the BBQ, looking for his events colleague Phil to go shopping with for all the food. We helped him search for Phil even though we had no idea what he looked like or any physical evidence that he even existed. After some pretty intense searching we all came to the conclusion he had vanished into thin air and so went with Tom to the supermarket ourselves as his new events staff.

Tom had been in Australia for over a year but had the tan of a new born baby. He walked us around the supermarket seemingly having no idea what a BBQ even was let alone what he needed for it to be a success. We helped where we could and left the store pretty sharpish. With only a small budget Tom thought it was a good idea to place the ketchup in his bag without scanning it first. We didn’t fancy being locked up for the night so decided to stay as far away from his antics as possible. Although a night in a cell would have probably been more comfortable than his hostel.

Back at the hostel we found Phil. We were all about to introduce ourselves when he came stumbling towards us, seconds away from throwing up all over us after an all day session on the beers. Not sure he would have been much use down the supermarket somehow.

Inside the hostel we were thanked by Tom as he went off to get set up for dinner. We put all our stuff down in our room and began getting changed ourselves when we we saw a girl in the corner doing exactly the same thing. She had been living in the hostel few some time now and knew everyone. I can’t for the life of me remember her name, so instead she shall just be remembered as Braless Jane. I don’t know what it is about girls that have been travelling for a while. They just seem to prefer going without a bra while wearing the loosest fitting tops they own, at all times. Not that I have a problem with it. Be free Jane. Feel that breeze.

It wasn’t long before Tom popped up from outside our window to ask if anyone could help him out with the cooking. The two girls quickly declined while Braless Jane would have been risking perhaps any chance she had of ever feeding her future children by getting too involved. So instead I offered my services and joined Tom outside by the BBQ.

The food was going well. Obviously. I had been joined by another long term resident who seemed to take a BBQ more seriously than a B&Q employee. He was flipping the sausages so many times they never had a chance to get warm let alone cook. I did offer a little advice but I’m not sure he understood what I was trying to say. In the end he’d stabbed them so many times we ended up with pork pattys rather than actual sausages.

Soph had appeared and was quickly given a job. She was in charge of ticking off names and giving out a single slice of bread each. In fact the meal per person consisted of two slices of plastic cheese, one sausage, one burger, a dash of ketchup and as I said, a single slice of stale bread. That is until we ran out of burgers, when you got two sausages. Fair to say Tom was not the best when it came to organising a BBQ. Especially as he didn’t even cook it anyway.

The following day was to be our very last in Australia. The girls had there sights set on bikini shopping while I had some serious blogging to catch up on. So I set off in search of a rumour. I had heard somewhere that Brisbane was home to a man made beach located on the city’s Southbank. I walked through a festival and took a look at all the little market stalls put up for the event. Then I found it. Not just a beach, there was a huge public pool free to anyone who fancied a dip. I looked for a spot and made it my home for the next few hours. The sun was beaming down on me as I layed down with one arm and leg in the water. To be honest not a lot of blogging actually got done in those few hours, although a lot of serious tanning was. That was until a huge cloud began to make it’s way over the city. It was at this point I remembered  I had come with two others and started wonder where on Earth the girls had got to. Surely nobody can spend over two hours in one shop.

I was wrong. They can. Bringing with them the huge clouds, the girls came wandering around the corner with their new purchases. They do have a tendency to appear at the same time as the clouds. Thankfully they did open up just enough to offer a little sunshine and an opportunity for them to try out their new gear.

That evening we would need an early night. We would be leaving for the airport at 5:30am via a pre ordered shuttle bus. So we headed for dinner before going back and packing our bags. The girls like to empty their entire bags every time they pack even if they used a single top from it. I am obviously not like that. I was packed and ready in less than 5 minutes so went and sat in the tv area with a large group of Germans and the once again intoxicated Phil. It was a Saturday night 10 hours ahead of the UK. So I decided not to go to sleep that night and instead stay up watching live football from Europe. It was to be an eventful night.

We still had a little goon left so I went and filled my cup and took my seat ready for the Germans to watch their game before Arsenal came on for me. It wasn’t long before Tom had come back from his night with two of the oldest woman I’ve ever seen inside a hostel. Now I would like to make it clear that for the entire evening I was sat in my seat watching the tv and not involved in any of the coming antics. First off, when one of the woman came in a thought I recognised her. Turned out I didn’t know her, she just struck a strong resemblance to one of the elephants we rode back in Chaing Mai. After about an hour of flirting with two 18 year old Germans, she dragged them outside to her car for what I can only presume to be a friendly chat. But after an hour or so they still hadn’t returned. Her old blonde friend went with Tom to see where they had got to and left us all in peace to once again focus on the tv. Seconds later however Tom was running in to say they had walked in on something nobody should have to see, causing the blonde pensioner to get upset, jump in the driver’s seat and wheelspin away with Nelly and the two Germans trapped in the back.

This in turn caused Phil to get out of his seat, walk towards the front door, black out and fall face first to the floor, smashing his head on the door as he went. All of which was enough to make him urinate in his pants as he layed unconscious in the hall way. Thankfully his colleague Tom was on hand to drag his lifeless body into bed. Meanwhile Arsenal won a tough match. So all was good.

5:30am had almost arrived so we all grabbed our bags and headed out side to meet the bus. The girls were concerned with why I had such a shocked look on my face and why they were having to tred so carefully by the front door when we left the hostel.

We waited for our shuttle bus to arrive with a Canadian girl who was catching the same flight as Courtney. Soph and I were catching a plane half hour later with Qantas. We started  getting a little panicky when 5:30 came and went with no sign of the driver. The Canadian girl was literally pulling her hair out. She marched inside to use the hostel phone and find out where our driver was. It wasn’t long until a taxi arrived. We chucked our bags in the back and began to get in. But when confronted with why he was late it started to become clear that the driver had no idea what was going on. He said he was hear to pick up an Ells party but that we hadn’t paid yet. We had paid. The Canadian was now having a full on mental break down, rocking back and forth on the side of the road. There was some pretty stern words said before a Japanese couple appeared and said this was their taxi. The driver no longer cared who was getting in his cab just as long as he got paid. WHAT WAS GOING ON!

It turned out it wasn’t our taxi and the driver had just seen my name on the paper Courtney was holding. Thankfully it wasn’t much longer until our bus did arrive. Otherwise on top of everything we could have had the mess of an exploded Canadian to deal with. The driver was about 110 years old and in a rush. We were all about to go crazy at the old man for his lateness when he opened his mouth to say…

“Your driver has had a heart attack”.

My first thoughts were; ‘Well you look pretty good for it mate’, when it became clear that he was in fact a different driver who’d been woken up by his boss to become the now emergency driver. To be fair he drove like Michael Schumacher to the airport and got us there in one piece and on time. We ran in and left the driver and the Canadian at the bus before we became involved in two heart attacks in one day.

So that was that. Australia done and the next part of our adventure on the horizon. I would like to take this as an opportunity to thank everyone again for taking the time out of your busy day to read up on how we are doing. It’s really appreciated immensely. So once again…

…Thanks for following x

You may have noticed from our Facebook updates that we have indeed moved on from Australia now. But there is still plenty to tell about our last days down under. So without hesitation I shall carry on from where I left off.

Back in camp it wasn’t long until the food was done and the alcohol was out. Goon was everyone’s preferred tickle. Remember that awful wine in a box stuff we had in Sydney. Literally only good for the wallet and getting you really, really drunk. Looking around at everyone else we definitely seemed to be the most together of all the groups. We were close already and not one of us had began moaning about the weather. And remember we had Soph and Courtney in our group. So we got the drinking games going and quickly started to become the obvious group for everyone else to want get involved with. The more the merrier.

At one point the girls decided they wanted a shower. They had got drunk pretty quickly so it was probably for the best they took a breather. Remember however the bathroom was up the hill out of site from the camp through a deathdefying path of mud, snakes and spiders. They would need to stick together to ensure their safety. Once at the shower they could separate and feel safe enough to take a shower. But they didn’t. Instead they decided to take another shower together. I don’t know if I should start getting worried here but they do seem to enjoy getting naked together when I’m not around. Hmm.

Meanwhile I was making new friends. A couple of girls, one from Bristol, one from Candada, had sat down next to me to join in the game. There were now so many accents at the table I wasn’t sure who was speaking English and who wasn’t. We continued to play until people started to give in and head for bed. There weren’t many people left when I went up to the bathrooms to find the girls. I could hear the giggles from the campsite so they weren’t too hard to find even through the pitch black snake path. Up there we ran in to cool guy tour guide, Danny. So together we all started making our way back to our tent. At that point the girls screamed. A frog! They weren’t scared of it, it was just huge. I couldn’t even see it in the dark forest until out of nowhere bushman Danny launched his right foot out and stamped it on the floor. He had stopped Kermit in his traps. He began to show us where the frog’s poisonous sap came from on its back before picking him up by his back legs. The girls begged him not to kill the poor thing, which Danny agreed to. Instead he launched the amphibian as if it was a discus far into the jungle. We never did see that frog again.

The next morning we were woken up by Danny banging a cup against a spoon. It actually sounded more like he had just set up an entire arsenal directly outside our tent and set off every weapon one after the other. It was 8am. Not the sort of time you want to be getting up after antics such as ours the night before. We got to making breakfast and our lunches for the day. We’d learnt our lessons from the day before and decided not to go with ham and plastic sandwiches. Instead we would go all out by having a single slice of bread folded in half, filled with Nutella. I can think of worse lunches.

It was of course absolutely tipping it down as we got in to the 4x4s to set off for our days activities. One of the groups started to get worried about what seemed to be a bit of a petrol leak from their car. Danny told them not to worry though. Rumours had started to spread amongst the camp that there was a pretty big storm on its way over and would bring with it some strong winds as well as even more rain. Yet it didn’t seem to phase anyone. We jumped in and headed off for a spot called Champaign Pools. A beautiful spot at the very top of the island. Well, I say beautiful. I’m sure on a good day it’s stunning.

When we got there Danny came over the radio asking us to grab some swim shorts from our bags and meet by the toilets out of the rain. The rain was literally hammering it down by this point. Once changed and together again Danny explained a little about this spot. He said that we shouldn’t go all the way in as there are some really sharp rocks that we may struggle to spot. That if we fall off the side we would be smashed to bits and almost certainly die on impact. And if we were lucky enough to survive the fall we would be a special treat for any passing tiger shark with a healthy appetite.

Moving on from the good news, Danny explained in more detail the seriousness of the incoming storm. A category 4 cyclone was moving rapidly towards Fraser and it wasn’t looking to making friends. This more than likely meant we would need to be evacuated from the island later that day with very little chance of receiving our money back for our troubles. For a small minority this was exactly what they wanted to hear. For most, including all of our group, we were devastated. Sure it was raining, but the activities are mainly water based anyway. Suck it up and jump in the water you miserable….Hmm

Having run through rain that felt more like a team of raging dingos firing nail guns at us to get to Champagne Pools, we found it was pretty much a giant rock pool. Nice to look at though. Back at the cars the plan was to drive back to our camp so Danny could call his boss on the main land and see if we needed to be shipped off or not. We waited for a while at a shop just off the beach trying to get dry before Danny announced the new plan. The cyclone was now so bad that even if we did leave the island tonight we would probably find ourselves capsized before making it half way across the channel. So instead we would tough it out and do all the things we were going to do anyway, just wetter. This caused a huge cheer from the entire group, bar one or two moaning individuals who were scared their hair might get wet. Grrr!

Ignoring their outnumbered complaints the group jumped back in their cars and headed to the next destination, Eli Creek. But not before that same group brought up their fears of that petrol leak. Again they were told it was fine and not to worry about it. Eli Creek is basically a freezing cold river with a current that ran out to sea. So the idea was you could get in and float your way down stream using those float mats you used during your school swimming lessons. It was good fun but outrageously cold. Plus due to the heavy rain the water was now impossible to see through. There could have been any number of snakes or snorkeling spiders ready to pounce on us. Yet we didn’t care. We were all so happy to still be there that we gave everything 100% no matter the weather. And it’s a good thing too, as there was no let up whatsoever.

A little further down the beach were the remains of what was once a luxury cruise liner. Before the completion of the Titanic it was in fact the largest ship of its kind in the world. Until of course a bunch of Chinese took the helm only steer it directly into some oncoming cyclone, similar to the one we were experiencing at that very moment. It is also happened to be the most photographed ship wreck in the world. So of course we needed a photo. As you can see we were really lucky with the weather….

The storm was now hovering just away from Fraser Island, threatening to drop its load right on our heads in the coming hours. So it was now time to head back to camp for a repeat of the previous evenings antics. Dinner was spaghetti Bolognese accompanied by another session of goon themed drinking games. It was another really great evening with everybody from all 4 groups now mixing with each other and making the most of an imperfect situation. Even the couple that moaned all afternoon were having a good time. At this point Danny appeared from the buses to announce some fresh news on the cyclone. We expected something like ‘well done everyone, you’ve survived it’ or maybe ‘that’s it everyone, all over’. Instead Danny told us the incoming cyclone was still not here and that it had in fact now been upgraded to a Super Storm. For those that don’t know what a Super Storm is, it is not a large black cloud with a cape on its back and a pair of tight latex undies wrapped around it. It’s 280km/h winds. That’s umbrella turning inside out kinda winds. The outcome of this news was that we needed to have all our stuff ready in case we needed to make a runner from our tents to the concrete shower unit. Exciting ay?

We stayed up as late as we physically could by finishing our drinks, staring at the stars and listening to Danny’s bush stories. The rain had stopped. Perhaps this was quite literally the calm before the storm.

When morning came we expected to be floating in our 4 person tent somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Instead it was gorgeous sunshine for as far as the eye could see. Where was this so called Super Storm? Rumours spread again that it was apparently still on its way. That it had stopped off at the nearest service station for a wee and a bacon sandwich but was still most certainly on its way. So we quickly cleaned up the camp and set off to catch the boat back to the main land. We would have to travel for some time along the beach to get to our destination. So if we’re going to miss the storm we were going to have to put our foot down. We always travelled as a convoy. If one car was in trouble they would flash the one in front who would then flash the car on front of them and so on. Unfortunately this didn’t seem to work. Remember that car with the unserious petrol leak? They were no longer part of the convoy. In fact they were missing altogether. We all shot back to find the car dead in the middle of the beach with…you guessed it…no petrol!

It took a little while before we could fix the problem but in the end all was rectified and we were on our way to the boat and then to our original hostel in Rainbow Beach. It really was a superb couple of days. The people we met and the fun we had by far outweighed the disappointment brought around by the awful weather conditions.

Back at the hostel the tv was on loud with a few people crowding around it. The storm that never came had in fact most certainly come. Brisbane to the south of us was being evacuated and towns to the North of us held over 70,000 people with no power. All buses and trains in and out of Rainbow Beach had been cancelled. All trips to Fraser Island had been cancelled. The extent of the cyclone Marcia’s destructive force was becoming evidently clear. We were one of the lucky ones as we had pre-booked our 5 person house before we left for Fraser. Others struggled to find accommodation at all. Thankfully the council had put up an emergency shelter in the village hall so people could at least stay out the rain. But that was the funny thing. There was no rain. It was the hottest day ever. In fact the forecast for rainbow beach was hot hot hot for days to come. Yet we couldn’t leave.

The buses remained cancelled for days. There was no way in or out of tiny Rainbow Beach for at least another 4 days and even then the buses would be jam packed with backpackers desperately trying to make their way to their pre planned destinations. Unfortunately this spelt the end of our journey in Australia. With a flight from Brisbane to Auckland on the Sunday, we couldn’t risk going further away from the airport in case no bus was available to get back down again. So we would miss the Whitsunday Islands and the Great Barrier Reef. It was a devastating decision but one we had to make. Perhaps next time.

Would we let this spoil our last few days down under? What do you think? With so many people struggling to get accommodation we invited who we could to come and stay at our house. So instead of 3 of us staying in a 5 bed place, we filled all 5 beds and had a couple of people sleeping on our sofas. We even made a little extra cash from it. Some of our Fraser Island group had paid for an emergency bus to get them out of Rainbow Beach for an astronomical price. Something we simply couldn’t afford. For those of us left however, we had just enough time for one more big night. We all met at the hostel to drink even more goon before heading down to the beach with only the reflective light from the moon to guide us. Half of the group were English, the other half English speaking Germans. And as people from those two nations always do, it wasn’t long before we were having a singing competition. Screaming out eachother’s national anthems like we were about to head into battle. Again.

Leaving Rainbow Beach was actually a rather sad moment. Overall we’d spent 10 days shopping from the same tiny shop, seeing the same people all wishing they could leave. By the time we actually did leave, nobody wanted to. But life must go on, and so it did. Back to Noosa for two nights before Brisbane and ultimately Auckland, New Zealand. But that’s for the next blog. It won’t be long, I promise.

Thanks for following x

G’day. How are we? Good I hope. I know, it’s been a while again since you lucky folk got to read up on our most recent adventures around Australia. Well you need wait no longer.

I actually write this on our very last day in Australia. I am sitting on a step with my legs dangling in a free swimming pool on Brisbane’s Southbank. The girls have gone off to try on bikinis and purchase some girl things which, unsurprisingly, I have zero interest in doing. So instead I have found a man made beach. Pretty happy with my choice right now.

We have done quite a bit since we last spoke but I was still planning on squeezing it all into one blog. The girls have put their feet down though and made me promise to split it all up to make sure I don’t miss anything. So sit back and enjoy.

So where were we? Ah yes we were leaving Surfers Paradise for Rainbow Beach where we would then be picked up for a couple days camping on near by Fraser Island. But first we would spend the night in the lovely town of Noosa.

2 hours North of Brisbane, Noosa is a small town packed with beaches. We were staying at a hostel at the top of the hill, about 10 minutes walk to the main beach. Aptly named, Main Beach. We spent a few hours here waiting until the Sun went down and watched as the surfers continued to catch their waves in front of the sunset. We hadn’t caught a full sunset in quite a while, so it was really nice to spend a little time appreciating the different colours the sky and the clouds go when the Sun dips out of view.

By the time it is was completely dark we were ready to eat. We headed off the beach and on to the main street to see if we could find a supermarket. On our journey we discovered a few people congregating around a man and his guitar. Not wanting to miss out on a congregation we quickly merged in and watched this talented fellow do his thing. He was actually really good. Not just any street busker, he had a full on set with a huge speaker and even his own stool. A true professional. As we sat watching we spotted a really cool ice cream shop where they made their produce using liquid nitrogen. Undoubtedly a small tub of this dessert was more expensive than a semi detached in Sevenoaks, but they did have a $2 treat of frozen popcorn available. Which was dreamy with a bit of salted caramel sauce dripping off it!

The next day we were moving on again. Our bus wasn’t until 4:20 in the afternoon though so we had just enough time to revisit the beach and burn the hell out of ourselves. Although we have had some pretty poor weather during our time in Australia we were really starting to top up our tans again now. The further we travelled north the warmer it was seeming to be and the fewer clouds were getting in the way. This was clearly evident in Courtney’s skin tone which was beginning to look more like she was actually travelling and a lot less like she’d been locked in windowless basement since birth.

Our bus journey would drop us off in the bustling town of Rainbow Beach. And by bustling I mean the complete opposite. It’s hard to really paint you a picture of how quiet this place is. To be fair I wouldn’t need a lot of paint. Could probably just dip the brush in once and be done. It has a shop…uhm…a petrol station. Oh and a beach of course. But that’s pretty much it. When the bus arrived it was totally dark outside. Thankfully our hostel was directly opposite the bus stop so we didn’t have far to go.

Usually I book the hostels. I say usually. I always book the hostels. But today was a day of firsts. I can’t remember exactly what point they were hoping to prove, but the girls wanted to book the Rainbow Beach hostel. Perhaps to show me that they didn’t completely rely on me to safely navigate them around the world. Which they do. Well they decided to leave it until the very same day to book somewhere for us to stay that night and unsurprisingly found very little available. In fact there was nothing available. Nothing at all. Zilch. Nada! However after a while they did come across something on a website we don’t usually use. An apartment that could take 5 people. It would be a little more than our recent rooms but we had no choice but to say yes.

Somehow it was a fantastic decision. We had landed ourselves a full on house. It had a kitchen with a working oven, a tv with sofas and a table for us to eat at. It even had a private double bedroom for Soph and I to sleep in while Courtney had a room to herself. It was awesome. So although without me I’m pretty sure the girls would still be looking for the exit at Melbourne airport, when it comes to booking a hostel, they do have some good luck. Because that’s all it was. Luck.

That evening I cooked dinner. That’s right, I do that too. On the menu tonight was a beautiful and flavoursome Italian dish I like to call pasta bolognese. It’s my very own recipe of the cheapest possible mince available mixed with some Dolmio sauce delicately displayed on a bed of own brand pasta. The sort of dish that gets passed down through generations. But we didn’t stop there. Oh no. To accompany this delight our thirst was quenched with nothing less than the very best in cloudy lemonade, followed by a dessert pure enough to tickle even the sweetest of sweet tooth. A delicious curly whirly. I’m considering bringing out a cook book when we get back to England. Keep your eye peeled for ‘Ells Does Christmas’ coming to all major book stores this holiday season.

That evening we attempted to enjoy a really good night’s sleep. A double bed, the sound of the waves washing up on the shore. It had the makings of some superb dreams. Unfortunately the boys next door had every intention of preventing us from doing just that. They thought it would be a cracking idea to run up and down banging on the front doors of each house and running away. With only three houses on the street, including their own, it didn’t take them long to get bored of this game. So instead they moved on to that old favourite, running up and down the road completely naked chasing each other around with kitchen knives. Somehow I think we must have fallen asleep because we didn’t find out the end result of that game.

The next day we woke up at our own pace before having some Nutella on toast for breakfast. When we were ready we headed out to discover what Rainbow Beach had instore for us. We carefully made our way out of our driveway, warily looking out for any chopped off willies that may have fell victim to the boys late night fun. The beach was just as vacant as the rest of the town but it stretched for as far as the eye could see. Tall cliffs over hanged the beach made up of all different types of rock. It’s these cliffs that give Rainbow Beach it’s name. The varying colours of sand seem to just stop as another one starts as if someone has literally gone along and painted them. Sure you don’t get the indigo or the red sand like you would hope to see from a place with the word rainbow in its name, but it was still good to see.

We needed to be at the hostel again for 4pm for a group chat with all the people going to Fraser Island the next day. I remember when I was little I used to love making new friends. It wouldn’t matter who it was. I could have walked in on a group of child murdering Nazis practicing their latest killing techniques and still felt comfortable asking for all their names and how long they’d been in the child cruelty business. Nowadays I cross the road whenever a group of more than two people are heading in my direction. I don’t know why. I’ve just developed a strong fear of anyone new trying to talk to me. So this 4pm talk was pretty much my worst nightmare. Over 30 people split into teams of 8 and sent off to do a group food shop before spending the next 3 days in each others pockets.

Our group was made up of me, Soph and Courtney as well as two boys from Sweden, a couple of Germans and Finish girl. All of which could speak perfect English. Thank God because I can’t speak a word of Swedish or Finish and my German can only get me as far as asking for directions to the closest pharmacy. We chatted away introducing ourselves before signing a few forms and watching a video on how to drive a 4×4 on sand. Fraser Island is home to the world’s largest stretch of sandy beach. Over 70 miles of sand surrounding dence forest with lakes and rivers untouched by humans. It is also home to a ton of wild dingos and the washed up remains of the largest luxury cruise liner before the Titanic. Thousands of backpackers travel there each year to drive around in 4 wheel drives and spend the night getting entirely intoxicated on bagged wine and sleeping in 4 man tents. People actually pay to do this.

Our first task as a group was to go shopping for the food we would be eating and the alcohol we would be consuming over the next few days. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to food shop with 8 people, but if you haven’t, it really is a true example of too may cooks spoil the broth. To be honest I’m surprised the broth even got going the first place. The girls wanted fruit and veg. The boys wanted meat. The girls wanted cerial. The boys wanted meat. It really was a battle of the sexes in the only tiny market store in Rainbow Beach. On top of this 3 other groups were in there doing exactly the same thing. Absolute pandemonium.

In the end we came to a fair compromise and got back to the hostel to chuck our produce in the fridge. It turned out we actually had a really good group. Everyone was willing to compromise when it came to food and we all just clicked without a hitch. Nobody was left out and the group was looking strong already. Perhaps I can still make friends.

We said our goodbyes for the evening before heading back to our little house. We needed to be back at reception for 7am so we were hoping the boys next door had done enough naked knife dancing for one week and headed for an early night. That or perhaps they’d learnt their lessons from the previous night and no longer had anything to chop off anyway. Either way the night passed without so much as a peep from our noisy neighbours.

Morning came and we were back in our groups ready to make our days lunch. As a group we chose ham and cheese sandwiches with a bit of lettuce and some chopped tomatoes. Some people even dabbled in a drop of mayonnaise. To save money we decided to go for the processed cheese slices rather than the block of mature cheddar. A poor choice indeed. It was then that we met our guide for the next couple of days, Danny. Danny had coolness dripping from him like sweat from a fat Australian’s armpits. If someone had told me he’d just freefalled in from a speeding jet without so much as a parachute and a blink I would have believed every word they said. Group by group he showed us around our car and explained how to drive it.

The vehicles were big. They were automatic 4.5 diesel engined beasts ready to eat up the sand like a hungry sand eating monster. The first task was to decided who was going to drive first. All three of the girls said they didn’t want to do it. Both the Swedish lads were still drunk from the night before and the two German boys just seemed to look directly at me as soon as the question was asked. So not one to shy away from a challenge I jumped in the front seat and took charge.

To aid driving on sand, quite a bit of the air was taken out of the tires. So the task of driving from the hostel to the boat was made quite difficult as it was a normal tarmac road the whole way. Once we got on to sand things became a little easier until I then had to navigate our way up a ramp and onto the moving ferry. Easy enough for a skilled driver such as myself. Once we reached Fraser Island things became ever more challenging. We travelled as a convoy a long the bumpiest makeshift road I’ve ever driven on. Swerving from the low pressured tires while still acting like a total boss with one hand on the wheel and the other arm leaning in the window frame. Turning that music up. Proper gangster like.

Our first stop was for lunch. It was here we discovered how much of an horrendous idea it was to choose the processed cheese over the block. After attempting to swallow what we could of the warm plastic like cheddar everyone from all 4 groups headed down the hill to Lake McKenzie. A beautiful lake surrounded by sand you could brush your teeth or shine up your watch with. There were no streams or rivers leading in or out of this lake, so it was filled with unsalted rain water. It had been pretty sunny up until this point but on queue the rain began to pour just as we began to jump in. But as they say, once you’re wet you’re wet.

It wasn’t long until the entire group was split in half. Some of the group were chucking a frisbee around while the other half were trying to keep a football above water. If you know me well you’ll know I’m pretty darn good at throwing a frisbee. So when a couple of the boys from another group brought their disk out to play in the lake, it was the perfect ice breaker for me. A single throw later and I was god in their eyes. Too easy. This friends making malarkey was all coming back to me. Turned out a couple of the boys came from Southampton and with me having gone to Portsmouth Uni, I had even more to talk to them about. Things were going well. However  what you would probably call the jocks of the group were playing with footy. You know, the ones with dream bodies and swooping hair. The popular kids. I still needed to brake into that group. One step at time. The girls had made good friends with the other girl in our group from Finland so we’re happily chatting away with her watching everyone play around.

By the time we arrived at our camp the rain was coming down like an English summers day. The camp site was made up of a covered area with lots of tents underneath. There was another covered area that had a few long wooden tables under it as well as a sort of kitchen type area. The showers and toilets were located further up the hill through a muddy path that was getting worse by the second due to the constant down pour. And I’ll say it again, we actually paid for this. All was ok though. Dinner was just around the corner. Unfortunately the tools weren’t available for me to conjure up on of my famous dishes, so instead sausages in a slice of bread were special of the day. I think the girls even got a dash of salad to go with it.

The night would be a blast. But I shall stop there and carry on with the next blog so things don’t get too out of hand.

Thanks for following x

Hey everyone. Happy Valentine’s for the other day. Hope you were either spoiled rotten or at least did the spoiling. I’m sure you’re all desperate to hear what Soph got this year from me. Commonly referred to as the 21st century Romeo.

Well she got nothing.

Yep, nothing at all. No I didn’t forget. I don’t need a single day in the year to tell Soph how much I love her. She has 365 of them. We just couldn’t afford to get each other anything.
Awww. Anyway it’s pancake day next week and we all know that’s a far more important date in the calender. (“Ooo is it? I didn’t know that”).

Right, so. The bus. The 14 hour bus journey from Sydney to Byron Bay. We’d heard about Byron Bay lots back home and along our journey so far. People love the place it seems. Many had expressed a desire to live there due it’s super laid back culture and beautiful scenery. So although the bus journey was long, it should, in theory, be worth it.

Thankfully the buses are pretty high spec out here. Some have TV sets and WiFi and toilets with toilet paper. Ours did not have these things. What it did have however was air con. Which unfortunately turns the entire bus into a moving choc ice. Even if you turn the fans off it’s still freezing. And if the bus has to go round a corner, some unlucky passengers are going to get covered in what I can only suspect to be liquid nitrogen dripping from the vents. One bonus though, the driver was nice. I mean I can’t remember him saying or doing anything really nice. He just wasn’t a moaning old goat like the last one we had. Which was nice.

When we finally arrived in Byron we were greeted by the staff from our hostel ready to drive us from the bus stop. This was very helpful as we had only been able to get a room in the hostel furthest from town. The Arts Factory Lodge. In fact this place is a little famous. It’s where the Inbetweeners stayed in the sequel movie when they visited Byron. Neither Soph or I had seen it, but I’d heard about this claim to fame and thought it must therefore surely be a good please to stay a couple of nights.

Although it was nice of the bus to drop us at the reception desk at 9am, we couldn’t check in until 2pm. So to pass the time we chilled out in the, well I guess, the chill out area. I sat writing a blog while watching the bags, the girls lounged by the pool trying to catch up with me in terms of tanning. That’s right. I have a tan. I’m being mistaken for Greek now. Even Turkish from an angle. Anyway my olive skin and good looks are besides the point right now. Maybe later.

By the time 2pm rolled around we were all desperate to just get into our room and chuck our stuff down. We spoke to the lad on the desk, fluttered our eyelashes and managed to get an upgraded room. I suppose the room was more like a tent than a usual room. It had two bunk beds in but one of the bottom bunks was a double, so Soph and I could sleep in the same bed together since our first night in Melbourne. We could probably sleep together in the singles, but as I said before, Soph is super sensitive to the cold and I have to take a layer off every time someone in a 5 mile radius sparks up a fag. So unfortunately for Soph, snuggling in this heat is not enjoyable for me. We all have to make sacrifices to be with the ones we love. That’s hers. One of many I’m sure.

Behind the room was a private balcony overlooking a large pond covered in moss. It looked like a perfectly cut putting green until a family of ducks starting moving across it. It was a really nice setting. The only downside was the increased number of mosquitoes roaming about. What is the point in a mosquito? Really. They are helping nobody. They have no friends.

Hitting the town we aimed for the beach. The hostel has a free shuttle bus to and from the town every half hour or so. But Byron is so small that even though it’s far away in comparison to others, it’s still only a 10 minute stroll away. Within these ten minutes however, the Sun disappeared and was replaced with a sudden down pour. We took this opportunity to head back to the high street and grab some lunch. We also decided perhaps it would be best to start looking into booking our trips to Fraser Island and the Whitsunday Islands. These two have been on our list, as they are on every backpackers list, since day 1. So with only a couple of weeks left in Aus, we really had to start looking.

We asked in a couple of places before the girls were sweet talked into a particular one called Happy Travel, or something like that. I waited outside chatting away to someone else who worked there before I was spat at by a passing homeless guy who was rather peeved at the number of foreign visitors to his lovely town. I ran in and joined the girls to see what they’d been sweet talked into next.

Due to Australia’s ridiculous prices, we are running dangerously low on funds. So although our dream was to do both islands, it was pretty apparent we would have to pick one and sacrifice another. Courtney is an experienced sales woman and Soph is no fool when it comes to the tricks of the trade. So I would have been happy with whatever their decision was. None of us really had a budget in mind, but we knew what we had in our accounts and how far we could stretch. So when the sales guy said a figure a little cheaper than expected for both excursions, we went for it. Perhaps we could do both. I gave him my card, tapped in my pin, and smiled at the girls….

…Card Declined: Insufficient Funds.

This was not good. Least enough embarrassing. I quickly jumped on a computer and checked my account. I had over £700 less than I thought we had. It was a nightmare. Devastating. We just couldn’t do it. We could barely do one of them. It was a pretty horrible moment of realisation. We had been so careful with money until Australia when we simply can’t afford to live. We haven’t been out drinking every night or munching on lobster for lunch. It’s just so darn expensive out here for foreigners. We booked the Fraser Island trip and left all smiles. Although barely below the surface we were all deflated with disappointment.

Suddenly emotions changed again as Courtney squeals with glee. We turn to see she is hugging someone. We all react differently to the feeling of disappointment, but we were pretty sure Courtney’s usual reaction isn’t to grab hold of the nearest stranger. She must know someone. And she did. It was her housemate Chris from her time at Chichester University. What a small world. Oh, and it just so happened to be his last night in Aus tomorrow. He’d lived in Byron for a while working for Happy Travel but was being posted to a spot in New Zealand starting next week. He invited us all out for his leaving do before we went our separate ways. Crazy when those things happen.

The next day was a beauty. We went down the beach, jumped in the sea and rode the waves back to shore. We had a jellyfish floating past us but that didn’t put us off. We were pretty sure it was dead anyway. It was great fun jumping on the waves. Soph was a little more apprehensive and stood in the shallow water. This soon proved to be an extremely good idea, for when we looked back at the very waves we’d been jumping in, we saw something. Something long. Something grey. Something deadly. Now I don’t want to scare anyone. It probably wasn’t. But my goodness it sure did look like a shark. I’d love to think it was maybe Sharkey or George. Those detectives under sea. But it could quite easily have been Jaws. Or just a big fish. Or nothing. Let’s go with nothing.

That night we were going out. The girls dressed up. I changed my t-shirt. We’re we’d ready to go. The bar of choice was Cheeky Monkeys. Perhaps sounding a little more like a kids playgroup than a bar we were slightly surprised when we were all ID’d to get in. Surely the age to get in a place called Cheeky Monkeys can’t be any higher than 4. Inside they even had face painting on offer free of charge. They also had cheap drinks and food we could afford, so we were well up for giving it a try.

We all got our face painted as we waited for our dinner to arrive. I don’t mind having a bit of paint on the face. I’d seen a few others with some really cool effects being done and thought, still rather reluctantly I must say, that I may as well join the girls. May be it was the tone I used when I took my seat in front of the face painter. Maybe it was the look in my eyes. Whatever it was, the lady thought it best to paint my face using the brightest colour pink she could find and a flower shaped stencil. On top of this she added some glitter to round off a piece of art our old friend Jamie the brake dancer from our Melbourne to Sydney bus would be proud of.

For the rest of the night I felt like I was either going to get hit or hit on by at least one of the long haired guys in the bar. I was struggling to work out which I’d rather. Apart from this constant fear it was actually a very good night. Soph and I had a couple of drinks but decided our budget would prefer us to stay reasonably sober. Courtney had no such problem topping up her glass with cheap champagne for the rest of the night. We danced away on the tables until the very last song and the lights came on. You always forget how unnecessarily long the song ‘Hey Jude’ is when you’re sober. There was still time for a big cheer for Courtney’s old mate Chris as everyone left for the night. We may even catch up with him again in New Zealand.

The next day we pretty much laid out in the Sun all day. Courtney did have to pick up an ankle support though. On our walk back to the hostel from the bar the night before, she had tripped over thin air and sprained her ankle. Thin air does seem to get in the way ever so often after an increased level of alcohol. It didn’t seem to affect her ability to make a racket though. Even after hurting herself she went for the Guiness World Record for the most amount of people woken up in one go by screaming about how much fun she’d just had. Bless her. Look out for her in the 2016 edition this Christmas.

The day after we were on the move again. This time for the aptly named Gold Coast. An ear filled with golden sand beaches for as far as the eye can see. Our particular stop was called Surfers Paradise. It was only round the corner in Australian terms. About two and a held hours up the road. But this bus was a very special bus. It also acted as a time machine. For when we arrived in Surfers Paradise, we’d gone and regained ourselves an hour. So we are now 10 hours ahead of the UK rather than 11. Perhaps this will be easier for the girls to get their heads around. It was only last week they realised the UK is behind us….

We dropped our stuff in our room and headed down the town to see what was going on. We spent an hour or so on the beach before looking around for a place to grab some cheap lunch. It was here we realised it was in fact Valentine’s Day the very next day. So as a treat we thought we’d go to the cinema to watch something really cool. Something action packed. Something we’d all been waiting for….

….50 Shades of Grey…pfft.

I could think of many films I’d rather see, ‘The Life and Times of Drying Paint’ would be one, but there was a lot of intrigue about this film so we thought we’d go see it. Plus there were bound to be scenes of a sexual nature involved, and I’m always down for that. The girls had read the book so were of course hoping for an exact match from the film. I won’t spoil it for those that haven’t seen it yet. Just bare in mind American Sniper is also on at the moment. That’s all I’m saying.

Our time in Surfers Paradise was very short. We’d only have two nights here before moving on our journey upwards towards Rainbow Beach and ultimately Fraser Island. So on our next morning when a new room mate arrived we weren’t too bothered about how nice or un-nice he might be as we’d only have to spend one night with him. He turned out to be a middle aged man who was currently in the process of going bankrupt. We felt quite sorry for him actually. Well I did. The girls thought he was going to nick all our stuff and sniff his way through their underwear while we were out. If the poor guy is going bankrupt he should at least be still allowed some pleasure in life. I left my used boxers out for him. Bless.

The day was again spent on the beach. We do a lot of that to be honest. But why not. Rather awesomely it happened to be the Australian Sand Sculpting Championships that weekend. These guys and gals are so talented, it really was great to see. Here our some examples of what we’d seen. They were all Disney themed.

We found a nice little place for dinner where we grabbed ourselves a steak and a beer for very little money, before returning to our room to pack again. As we got back we saw all the lights to our room were off. Soph stuck the key in the door and slowly opened it. What came out was a gas bomb more powerful than anything the Americans have dropped on the Japanese. It was enough to force Shrek to faint. Our bankrupt friend must have been trying to win a little money by entering the local baked beans eating contest because the room stank of fart. It was disgusting stuff. But it was only one night. We’d get through it.

The next day we were again on a bus. This time to a place called Noosa. But that’s for next time.

Thanks for following x