Trip Start May 19, 2009
67Trip End Ongoing
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As we motored down the highway, with Randy, for the first time, retracing his tyre tracks in the vast Land, the skies darkened. Then, soon enough, the heavens opened.
And so, there we were, four vagabonds stuck in a piece of tin assuring ourselves that the rain would, at least, make the waterfall we were visiting something to write home about, and praying that we wouldn't be struck by lightening on the exposed highway.
A few hours later we were drenched and parked up in a little piece of paradise: Mission Beach
You couldn't fault the chap in Cairns tourist information centre for his honesty. Five days ago he'd told us that if we wanted to go snorkeling on the Reef, we were better off heading out of touristville. Arriving here, though, it became clear that a Stomp-worthy rain dance had been conducted in our absence. Seasoned diver Miriam made calls to the boats and before I knew it my brain had been frazzled with reports of "swell" and "visibility", all with a common preface of "poor". At least for now, the Reef wasn't going to happen.
So what do you do in a cheap campsite when it's pissing it down outside?
That's right, my friends, you get out the goon.
We chattted, laughed and made the most of it. And the best part of it? We bonded - not as travel buddies stuck together, but as friends.
Case in point: When I commented that I had a spot on my lip and became momentarily concerned that I'd contracted cold sore herpes, Miriam simply responded "Well, it's probably a blemish. You know, like the rest of your face."
I might not have liked the weather much, but I sure liked her.