Up early, and at the bus stop at 0625. Slight concern at this point - will be booking for this particular bus, done online, have registered. I wouldn't be happy until I was sitting on the bus and moving! Soon it was moving, and for 11 hours, making its way down the coast to Airlie Beach. A slightly odd choice of film gretted us early on during the trip, despite the demographic of the bus we were subjected to Angus, Thongs and Full Frontal Snogging. Vaguely amsuing, but I mostly ignored it, preferring my I-Pod.

A stop at a seaside place, then a driver change at Townsville. Confusion here on my part, thanks to being half aslepp when the initial announcement started, meant that i got off the bus with my bag, stood around for a while, and then got back on the bus again. The new drivers phone rings - Murray Gold's Who theme as ringtone! Off we head, a third stop for petrol, and an ice cream! The last hour and a half into Airlie Beach appear to be spent driving over one enormous cattle grid, and by the time we arrive, my brain feels a bit frazzled. Hop on a free bus to get into the town, the drop off point being a car park slightly out of centre, to get to the hostel, and check in. The girl on the desk asks me if I have forgotten the date yet, apparently a common trait in backpackers.

I book a day tour for Friday, apparently its a good one for not getting seasick, so fingers crossed. Meet room mates - Darren, Australian carpenter travelling around for a year; Eva, from Utrecht, on a break before doing a Masters in Law; two Dutch guys, 22, doing the same before their internship as Doctors; and Biancha, from Switzerland. We go and have a few beers downstairs to some live music, and discuss the merits or otherwise of Dirk Kuyt. To bed.