Definition of a Backpacker

An Australian definition of a backpacker is renting out the oldest, beat up looking van you can find, spray painting it in multicolors and then plastering the words "Cheech and Chong" along the side and then finishing off with the rear painted "man made alcohol, god made mirajuana, who do you trust" is a good start. No joke, this was the van that was to be our home for the next week and a half. For those who want to find out more, check out the following website: www.wickedcampers.com.au

Traveling now with 6 was a new adventure for me. We join up with 3 other Canadians and one Japanese girl and get picked up when we landed in Cairns, North Queensland (also home to the Great Barrier Reef). Our stay was brief as it was our goal to head south with our new travel mates. After a day trip to the reef to swim with nemo, gil, dorree, the sea turtle and one white tip shark, it was off to the south.

After a quick stay in Mission Beach and Paranella park, our goal was to head over to Magnetic Island, also known as the island where magnetic forces cannot be explained (hence the name). Well, as you'll see very shortly we began to understand why this was...

It was the evening of July 2nd, the day after Canada day. We were told there was a party happpening at one of the beach's on the island. As you probably already know, where there is a party, there is the lone asian. So after a few road pops, we were off on our adventure. [NOTE: you know you're in Australia when you are taking a bus and on the loudspeaker, the rugby game is playing for all to hear] We ask the bus driver to drop us off at radical beach and just as we descend from the vehicle, we hear the words "have a nice walk".

PITCH BLACKNESS was what we were left with. Good thing we had one flashlight between 7 people. (note this importance for later)

Not knowning exactly where we were going, we decide to follow the only path we saw that somewhat led to a beach. 20 minutes pass, nothing. And when I say nothing, this means, NO sound, NO lights, NO OTHER PEOPLE anywhere, just the sound of the wild animals following you and waiting for the appropriate time to attack. 30 minutes, still nothing. Stuck between pride and curiosity, we would walk another 30 minutes just to prove to ourselves there really was a party. Good thing we didn't have to.

45 minutes later our first sign of life. We found people that were actually at this so called beach party. "It wasn't far away" they replied.

When we arrive, we find that we took the long way over and there was actually a shorter trip though it involved some crossing of a swamp with crocs, that was waist high - truth be told, this description seemed to be exagerated more each time it was told by a different person. The party itself was wild as it seemed like a scene out of the movie The Beach. Some DJ playing techno and house music while they had a huge bonfire on the sand where everyone sat around.
The adventure however was the journey back. After a bit of deliberation, we decided to head back through the croc infested short cut. What made it more interesting was 2 more canadian girls joined up with us because the only light they could produce was with a lighter and an empty can. A short time into the journey we meet an Aussie and Kiwi that was also without a light. What we didn't realize was that the Aussie seemed to be high on some type of enhanced substance.

So once again, 8 people now, ONE LIGHT, bush trail with cliffs on one side and did I mention the poisonous reptiles we couldn't see but hear?

10 minutes into the hike, the Aussie begins to freak. He begins to attempt to steal the light from me, then progressively becomes more aggressive with our group by pushing several of the women aside in the pitch black, yelling obsenities at whoever would listen and simply holding us back as he would run ahead, stumble over himself and then lie on the ground complaining he dislocated his shoulder. Had it not been for his Kiwi girlfriend who was with us as well, I would have left him to the snakes and wombats.

This would continue for another 20 minutes with the climax coming off at a major standoff between my Canadian friend and himself. Because I am often known for my calm and collective demeanor, I was forced to become the peacekeeper that I am and successfully diffuse the situation. It was then where Island Rice took over as the psychiatric therapist where her tactics consisted of distracting him with lame jokes and random questions.

We eventually find our way back to civilization and all that we went through would never be spoken of again. Until now of course. So the moral of the story is don't talk to strangers just before you are going on a pitch black hike because anything can happen in the jungle. - that was the best I could come up with.

Oh, and just for those who were paying attention, we never did run into some swamp that was waist high and filled with crocs...

- the lone asian