Something Wicked This Way Comes, Day Three

5/21 - After an early morning run along the esplanade, Chelsea and I had brekkie back at Fusion Organics. We splurged on one last flat white, but kept to the budget with wheat toast and jam, then hopped in a taxi to the Wicked Camper depot. Wicked Campers caters to Australia’s backpacker community, renting fully loaded camper vans on the cheap. We booked our van for just $40 per day, including insurance. When we made the booking we were surprised that the entire fleet was manual, and even more so when the taxi pulled up to a decrepit lot that looked like a camper van graveyard. The office was tiny and there were a few groups in front of us in line, so we plopped down on the couch and did our best to avoid a dorky group of American boys from Salt Lake City. They were on an identical itinerary and eager to caravan, but we made excuses and took note of the sailboat they were boarding in the Whit Sundays so we could be sure to book a different one.

When it was our turn, we signed some paperwork, gave an imprint of our credit card, and with a few words of caution to check the oil and water levels in the engine, we were pushed out the door. We’d been eyeing a David Bowie van, but the couple ahead of us drove off in it. We were given the Rob Zombie instead, which was perfect. Two preppy girls from New York traveling in an ultra goth, black van with Rob Zombie's face painted in blood red on the side; the words “Yeah I want it, Yeah I need it, Yeah I love it” scrawled on the back. Turns out we were lucky—the Salt Lake boys got stuck with Toy Story. We filled the empty tank with $40 of petrol and hit the road.

Chelsea took the wheel for the first leg of the trip. After a stop at Coles to fill up on a week’s worth of food, we headed two hours south to Mission Beach for a picnic lunch. The beach is 20km east of the highway along a slow-going, winding road where speed is reduced to protect the flightless cassowary. The cassowary, a man-sized, three-toed bird with a blue and purple head, red wattles, a helmet-like horn, and funky black feathers that resemble ratty hair, are protected in Australia for their precious poo which is vital to the rainforest’s ecosystem. They have recently been known to attack humans if they feel threatened, and in the chance of an encounter, you are advised to keep something between you and the bird at all times, preferably a large tree. Although we were very casso-weary, we weren’t lucky enough to spot one of these formidable creatures.

In Mission Beach, we were pleasantly surprised to find an idyllic, cozy surfer’s paradise, well worth the 30 minute detour. We parked our van amongst several Wicked comrades, made a few pb&j sandwiches in our handy kitchen, grabbed two bags of crisps and headed to the beach, a dreamy stretch of palm-fringed, white sand. After lunch it was my turn to take the wheel, my first time doing any substantial driving in a manual. Fortunately Giff taught me how to drive in a parking lot in Westchester last summer, so Chelsea gave me a refresher course and after a few bumpy starts we were on our way.

We spent our first night in Rob Zombie at a dreadful campsite next to a group of rowdy high school boys on a school trip. The bathrooms were dismal and the morning light revealed large lizards, frogs, spiders, and colonies of ants inhabiting the showers. We were up early to cook our first camp breakfast – scrambled eggs, toast and tea—and hit the road for Arlie Beach, the gateway to the Whitsunday Islands.