First of all, I'd like to say it was nice to talk to my mom yesterday (Oct 19), the first time I'd spoken to her since leaving Canada, and nice to hear a familiar voice at a time when I'm a little unsettled due to upcoming trip planning and the last few details of my present adventure.

Second, I'm trying to bang out details of the excursion into Bali, Thailand and Cambodia at a time when I'm a little travel weary, and used to a Western language and frame of mind. The more I look into these new exotic places, the more I feel a little overwhelmed with what I'm thinking about taking on. If anyone who reads this has any recommendations for me about any of these places, I'm more than happy to hear them! I could use the help. In the meantime, back to some catch up.

While in Brisbane, I read about Moreton Island, located off the coast from where the Brisbane River meets the sea, and signed myself up for a 2-day, 1-night adventure. Therefore, Monday October 2nd found me up before 6 for the second day in a row (and you thought I was on vacation). After waiting with puffy eyes at Roma Street Bus Station for a while, a 4WD Toyota Landcruiser pulled up with several coolers and surfboard mounted on the roof. Out jumped Sol, our tour guide and driver for the next two days. From the looks of the others waiting for pick-ups, I feared it was to be two days of several couples plus Conrad. Once Sol announced the Moreton tour, however, I met the rest of the people who would actually be joining me, a pretty small group. Basically, there was Elyssa, a veteranary (sp?) student from Italy, Xavier, an engineer from Switzerland though now based in Sydney, and his girlfriend/wife (never really found out) Martine, a personal trainer and HR exec.

After about an hour's drive, we arrived at the port and drove aboard the MICAT ferry, which took us on a gentle cruise across Moreton Bay (at the mouth of the Brisbane River) to Moreton Island. As we neared the island, we gently passed the Tangalooma Wrecks, a line of slowly rusting relics about 60m off the shore. The ferry pulled right up to the beach, no pier needed since the cat only sinks 2-3m below the surface. We drove off the boat and onto the sand.

Moreton Island, like the more famous Fraser Island, is almost entirely made of sand. Eons ago, a volcano erupted (the largest on record in the world in fact, the remains of which make up Mt Warning and surrounding ranges in the Byron area), scattering huge masses of lava and rock about and into the sea. A northerly flowing river of coastal sand built up on the south end of this lava rock, and over time, rooted vegetation emerged to bind the sand together to sustain life. Moreton is now covered with dense bush, while Fraser even has rainforest. Since I had opted out of Fraser for some reasons of convenience, Moreton seemed a good substitute.

A series of 4WD-only roads cut across and along the island, most of which is protected land. The inland roads were either pot-holed or softly grooved (making the mountain-biker in me tense up), while along the beaches, the tides pack and flatten the sand so that the truck could go full out. Sometimes the holes worked out with the axes to give the 4WD a hilarious bouncing motion; other times they were spaced disadvantageously for the wheel base, tipping the truck at extreme angles to the sound of the chassis groaning and anonymous hooks clinking away. To get from the beach to the inland, one has to keep their eyes on gaps in the dunes, because these obscure "exits" are only occasionally marked. Furthermore, it was the beginning of some sort of school holiday, so there was actually traffic - tons of offwhite 4WD on the roads, apparently unusually busy. I had to hand it to Sol, it takes a bit of skill to negotiate the island, and he did so casually while expounding on trivia about the island or stories of his adventures growing up on the Gold Coast and travelling abroad. And he outdrove any of the vehicles we passed.

Our first stop was a clearing containing a field of sand and enormous sand dune known as "The Desert". We crossed the plain and plodded up and across the dune, each armed with a slab of Masonite. It was time for tobogganing! Sol would wax our boards up and give us a push, and we went hurtling down the slope, collecting sand in our pockets and teeth along the way. I tried a running start, but ended up bellyflopping into the sand just below the surface, carrying half the dune with me on the way down. I'm still finding sand in my ears.... guess THAT didn't work.

We next were taken to our camp, where we each had a little tent, and meals to be cooked by Sol. The camp was located close to Blue Lagoon, a river-fed freshwater lake that was surrounded by marshy vegetation. With the sandy bottom, it was a great spot for a swim and sand removal, and so nice to be swimming in fresh water for a change.