After an extended sabbatical from my trip, due to Christmas and Carina's engagement party, I returned to Townsville with baited breath. I had heard through the grapevine over the holidays that Mullet had managed to break the driver's side window… I was not surprised to be honest, I have known mullet for a long time and he has a talent for breaking things… Probably why he fits in so well in the army.

The two weeks leading up to my break I had been trying to get in contact with Mullet or one of his Army buddies to no avail. I had all these images running through my head of me getting caught trying to break into an army barracks to steal my own car back… Not exactly sure how I would have managed to explain that to the military Police. Anyway, I finally managed to get onto mullet and he was going to be on the base when I flew in, no ninja shenanigans for me… Anyway, after the usual long day of flying I landed in Townsville late at night. Mullet had just gotten back from two weeks out in the field and I was fairly tired myself so we just hung out in his barracks that night.

The next morning we headed out to play paintball with a bunch of his army mates… To say I was mentally preparing myself for defeat is a gross understatement. All I had running through my head during the drive out to the fields of death was me getting peppered from all sides and limping away black and blue. Surprisingly (To myself more so than everyone else) I actually held my own in most of the games (Mostly because I was hiding behind the professional soldiers that were on my team). All in all it was a fun day even though I failed in my main objective of the day (shoot mullet in the groin) I still managed to take out a few professional soldiers which I thinks not a bad effort for a civilian.

Paintball over and after comparing our war wounds (there were some impressive bruises) over a BBQ back at the barracks I packed my bags and farewelled Townsville and 1 RAR for the last time as I headed down to Airlie Beach for the night.

In what seems to be a recurring comment on my trip my late departure meant I arrived in Airlie Beach after the reception for the hostel had closed down… A short stint attempting to pull a van out of the mud beside the road (where he had pulled off to light a cigarette) didn't help my schedule.

Sitting in Airlie beach at 8pm with no accommodation available (apparently all the receptions for the hostels shut in Airlie) I was patiently waiting/hoping the late night security guard would materialise from nowhere when I bumped into one of the crew members from the cruise I took a few months ago… A short glimmer of hope that I could talk my way into a free nights accommodation on his couch quickly disappeared as he stumbled closer in what can only be described as drunken three year olds attempt at a zig zag. After a few short grunts of recognition he stumbled away to find a bouncer nice enough to let him in (unlikely). Finally after about half an hour and several increasingly frustrating phone calls to the security number the magical key holder appeared.

After a quick shower and some pre drinks with the Scandinavians (and of course the token German Guy that no hostel is complete without) we headed out to the bar. A rather uneventful night later I was sitting at the unofficial late night Airlie hotspot, Maccas, for some healthy refreshments. Bored and waiting for my food I started chatting to two welsh girls that were waiting next to me. A short drunken conversation later that was rudely interrupted by my food arriving I had two willing victims for the next leg of my trip.

A very amusing car trip involving no shortage of roadside dancing and car tunes being belted out we pulled into a very sleepy little town known as Agnes Water (1770). After a short stint trying to teach Rachael to surf (She stood up so I count that as a win for me) in which I almost lost my nipple (I have since sanded down the back edge of my surfboard fins) I farewelled the girls (Rachael and Charlie, yes we had a good bond over our fantastic name) and continued south.

The further south I headed the heavier the rain seemed to fall. My mental images of the sunshine coast have always been exactly that, sunshine and a coast… not expecting too much am I? well to say I received the complete opposite is correct (Minus the coast part of course). Pulling into Mooloolaba I could hardly see out the windscreen. The next day wasn't much better, although the rain did abate for long enough for me to wander along the beach there was still not a ray of sunshine to be seen and the surf looked like a two year olds bathtub so there was no way I was going out there to get battered about like a tinny in the pacific.

Thoroughly disappointed with the sunshine coast I made the short pilgrimage to Brisbane and after the obligatory stop at the bottle shop I pulled into Lachy's house. After a Lachy had been convincingly beaten in beer pong we headed out to town and had a fun but rather unremarkable night out. It was good to have a beer with an old mate and not have to repeat my life story over seven times each minute, I keep thinking I should make up a different story each time and see which one gets the best reactions… Keep thinking it but im too lazy to think up something interesting each time… and Im a terrible liar so there is no way I could keep a straight face.

As Lachy lives right next to Suncorp stadium there was no place I could leave my car near his house so I headed down to the Gold coast where an old school mate Tookey lives. Tookey was nice enough to let me leave my car at his house while I was back at work.

And now back to work (Well not really I have been incredibly lazy with my updates so I am writing this at the end of April…)