Australia Day on Magnetic Island

We had been using the Greyhound Bus service to get us up the coast, and it always provided solid entertainment. From the stressed-out driver with his little shorts and grey socks pulled up to the knee, to the arguments that ensued over seating and bookings (mostly from Germans or French, everyone loves a stereotype!).

The highlight, though, was when the whole bus started to flood in a storm on the way north to Queensland, creating a river through the gangway and drenching people's seats and curtains. We were glad to escape onto the flooded streets of Townsville and waved off everyone else who had six more hours, overnight, to Cairns.

Thankfully the rain stopped and the sun shone for the next few days we spent with our lovely friend, George (not boy George from Christmas, but girl George this time), who we knew from our Cardiff days too. George and her boyfriend, Dave, moved to Townsville when George was offered a job out there and are enjoying a life of beaches, BBQs and insane humidity.

George and Dave, who had some other friends visiting from home, Tom and Abby, took us over to Magnetic Island - a twenty minute boat ride from Townsville. "Is it magnetic, then?" you're probably wondering. The short answer is no. The name stuck because of the apparent 'magnetic' effect it had on Captain Cook's compass as he passed by the island when sailing up the east coast of Australia in 1770.

People have since explored the general area of Magnetic Island with various instruments to discover what might have caused the effect that Cook reported, but nothing has been discovered. It's now affectionately known as 'Maggie Island'.

It was Australia Day, the national holiday to commemorate the arrival of the First Fleet of British at Sydney Cove in 1788. Naturally, this makes the day a little controversial, with some preferring to call it 'Invasion Day'. But whatever you want to call it, we were happy to head to the beach with some beers and go for a warm swim within the stinger nets.

While further south the floods were setting in, we were sweltering in the sunshine as we made our way to the house George's kind neighbour had let us borrow for a few days - a cute, classic Aussie bungalow with the toilet in a shed outside.

The boys took themselves off to the cyclone-battered pier to fish for our BBQ supper. After more than an hour of trying, they were swiftly upstaged by a seven year old and decided to call it a day. We then did what Aussies across the nation where doing: stuffed our faces with BBQ food and beer, and then fell asleep while watching The Lion King. Ok, most of them probably weren't doing the latter...they were probably watching Crocodile Dundee.

Apparently, Magnetic Island has the biggest koala colony in Australia, with 2500, compared to just 2000 human inhabitants. Unfortunately, they were a lot more conspicuous than the population they outnumbered when the next day we hired a mini Moke (a pink and white open-top Barbie car, no less) and cruised round the island. Despite keeping our eyes open, they managed to hide from us on our walk, but we did manage to sweat out all the meat and beer from the night before.

Taking in the undulating, tropical views, we went swimming at the beautiful, sun-drenched Horseshoe Bay and a few others along the way, then tootled in our toy car to see the rock wallabies, tiny little wallabies that, you guessed it, live amongst the rocks. We watched the miniature families up close and then spotted a turtle bobbing in the water.

Our wildlife watch continued that evening as we went out for Mexican food, where wild possums come for Nachos every evening, I kid you not. We were thankful for our rabies shots, when one of them took a chunk out of Med's finger.

The it was off to meet up with friends we've made along the way up the coast at a full moon party by the sea, where neon paint mixed with a stunning backdrop of tropical mountains and roaring waves.