Noosa Loosa

Being that we had camped and were ready for a nice, warm bed (k, not really -- more like a slightly-better-than-camping bed), we decided to head up to Noosa and check out what all the fuss is about. People rave about this place.

Honestly. They're allowed to.

It's a really beautiful place, lots of pretty people and people with a lot of money. This is where the Australians go. I see no problems with that. If I had money. I'd be in Noosa. Le sigh.

We found ourselves a backpacker place in the Lonely Planet (surprise, surprise) and decided to call up the YHA -- which is known for it's Southern US charm. Huh? I dunno. That's what it said. Apparently the large white column porch is where it's at. Sounds spectacular. But they were booked -- or had a twin room for $75.

Nope. We were gonna be sneaky. Really sneaky. Ross was going to go into reception and ask for 1 bed. ONE bed. Then. Sneak me in and get the price of 2 for 1. Holla. It worked like a charm. Not too shabby. Can't complain when you don't mind sleeping next to someone. Someone rather thin and lanky. I can deal with that.

We arrive fairly early, so we had some time to poke around Noosa. We got ourselves a "supposed-to-be" cheap beer at the Surf Club. It overlooked the ocean, so we couldn't complain too much. Then we made our plan. Well, sort of. We decided we'd head up to Hervey Bay, spend the night in one of the National Parks and then book ourselves a self-guided tour to Fraser Island. The place to be if you're ever in Queensland. EVERYONE talks about it. Everyone.

We did some exploring (one of them being to find a Mickey D's for some free internet -- which didn't work) and found ourselves a the movie theatre. Ross loves movies. Loves them. So I indulged in a movie for him. Not for me. Nothing was playing that I was interested in.

What'd we see?

Duplicity.

It was all right. But nothing to write home about. And nothing worth paying $13 for. Oh well. It was something to do.

We then went to a bar called Irish Murphy's and had ourselves some drinks. Then we were off to the grocery store to picked up some fish for din-din. Ross apparently makes a very good red wine fish. Um. Ew? That sounded bizarre, but I had faith in him and that was good enough.

We made our dinner in the filthy, packed kitchen and then drank a ton of Goon. A lot of goon. Then we went to the hostel bar for some drinks and fun, but ended up gettin into a serious conversation (again, my fault) and the night turned a bit sour.

All would've been fine if the guy above us was snoring like a bear in hibernation.

This guy won the award for most variety. Whether he was on his back, side, front, downward dog position, he had a snore for it. It was horrific. Even with earplugs neither of us got sleep, which didn't help our moods for the next day.

Oh boy did that not help.

I ended up driving down to Noosa Beach so we could get a beer and discuss our plans a little bit further. It was my fault. I had 3 people tell me to go to Fraser Island via Rainbow Beach. Not Hervey Bay. And Ross was solely depending on his....Lonely Planet book about Hervey Bay. I wanted to throw that damn book out the window and say FORGET IT!

So. As we were looking for parking spots (I'm sorry, I was driving...as I was looking for a parking spot...), we got into the ever popular, "Let me drive! Damnit!" argument. I got in a pissy mood, he got into a quiet mood and the rest was history. He sat himself down at a table overlooking the ocean with a nice cool beer in his hand, while I got a glass of crap water reluctantly sitting next to him.

Luckily, this guy likes to talk through his feelings, but damn. That wasn't easy. And wasn't something I wanted to do again.

We finally agreed we'd go to Rainbow Beach, in which I called up the hostel I had read about -- Fraser on Rainbow Beach. They had vacancy and we booked ourselves two bed.

Why two?

If we're going to do the tour -- which is per person -- we have to be...two different people. So off we were to Rainbow Beach. The place that would bring everything back into perspective....or so we thought...

Glass Hizzy Mountains

Upon our arrival on the outskirts of Bribane, we were hungry. Real hungry. Although we hadn't done much with our day, we were interested in finding ourselves a place to stop, cook and pass out. I was fairly hungover from the night before.

We drove through the outer parts of Brisbane until we reached our final destination. Foss had picked this part of Oz because of what he had read about it in the Lonely Planet. I'll soon find out that he picks based solely on what the Lonely Planet has to say.

Foss asked me to drive, which was extremely nerve-wrecking, but I pressed on. Luckily, when I'm on the HWY (or known here as the Motorway -- MWY) I can easily assume I should be on the left side due to all the cars as well as the median.

Finally we find the Glass House Mountain Lookout and are shocked to see the beauty of it. Absolutely gorgeous. But, unfortunately, the sun was setting so we didn't have a lot of time to setup and prepare ourselves for the night.

So. We took a few pictures of the sunset:

and then we walked a very short circuit around the lookout. Very short. 800m short.

Turns out we weren't the only ones smart enough to camp here for free. There was a van from the Wicked company. They're known for their crazy vans painted with the most obscene images or words.

For instance. My favorite one to date. Two gingerbread cookies fornicating on the side of a van. Classic.

There was also another campervan, but more luxurious, parked at the front.

For dinner, we had noodles with...you guessed it...that damn chicken we still were picking off. It was quite delicious.

And I made a camping stable -- S'mores. Foss had never heard of these and I found that absolutely preposterous, so I forced us to buy the goods for the best dessert known to a camping man.

I win. He loved it.

After dinner we laid our heads on a bench overlooking the mountains. The stars were absolutely spectacular that night. So clear, so vivid. It was amazing. But the bats were OUT and a bit O.O.C. And we were getting bitten to death. So we called it a night and went to camp out in the cozy backseat of the station wagon.

I didn't sleep AT ALL that night. Not sure if it was the incredible rainfall we had, the fact I was afraid someone was peering into the car as we slept or maybe it was Foss' snoring. Hey. It might've been the luxurious make-shift bed we were sleeping on. I just can't be certain. Regardless, I didn't get any sleep.

What does no sleep mean for Mariah?

Bitch-mode. I wasn't a happy camper. Literally.

We made ourselves a yummy brekky (bacon, eggs, hashbrowns and bread -- dear GOD), packed up and were off to the Australia Zoo. Mr. Steve Erwin's claim to fame (among other things, i.e. sting rays).

Bad news was that it was raining. Not hard. But not pretty. And when it's raining like that -- I'm out. Who wants to indulge $50 to see some animals in the rain? Not me. Plus, we have to come back. Why not trek on and go to the zoo on the way back?

It was a plan. So we ventured off to a new spot. Noosa. And what a gorgeous town that was....