Flew into Cairns via a random stop in Darwin. No sleep had been had and a forty minute wait for a mini bus somewhat tested the patience. After Luke's bag was nearly drop kicked straight to the hostel by the bus driver we rolled up to Gilligans (the Oz version of Butlins). Our early start to the day took another slight dent with the four hour wait for check in. Nice!

After a ski youghurt and an apple, it was time for the lads to share the wealth of the Ring of Fire (card game). We were joined by an Ozzy lad and a couple of ladies from Cornwall. Ventured out to our downstairs bar where Luke and Chris took on the 'Ozzy' champs! With 50 minutes on the clock, Matt struggling to stay awake, and some of the s***tist potting ever seen, Luke and Chris finally gave them a bloody good hiding to take the tittle. Off to the Woolshed for some fun and frolics. Managed to catch the back end (or at least the winning chest) of the wet T shirt competition. Retired for the night back to the shack. Luke and Matt are now forever bonded. After Luke sprung from the top bunk, a wave of friction must have occured as before you knew it Matt was out of the bottom bunk in only his birthday suit. Despite requests at reception seat belts are not available.

Up early and off to rent a bomb the next day having been persuaded by the Cornish ladies to rent a car and drive us all to Port Douglas. With no expense spared a top of the range, red, Hyundai Accent was rented. Chris being the grandad of the group was the only one old enough to drive. A scenic hour and a bit later we were safely in Port Douglas. The rain and lack of beach option ment we were off to the Ironworks bar. Steady snack and it was off to find a pool. No deal. Port Douglas was nice but quiet so it was back to Cairns to meet our new flat mates.

In a backpackers hostel we did not expect a mother and son combo to turn up. Weighing a combined metric tone and not exactly smelling of roses we were glad to hear they were only in town for the evening. A quick recharge, and a steady steak and mash dinner, cooked by Wales' version of Ainsley Harriet and it was off to see the sights and sounds again. Matt and Chris accidently went out draped in green only to stumble into a traffic light party (desperate came to mind). However after a reasonably quiet night, and Luke and Chris being violated in the Rhino bar for our drinks, we headed home. Still earlyish, Matt went offf with his internet card to check some stuff. 2 and a half hours later, and after an intense search, Matt came back. Matt had been treated to a steady stint in a broken down lift, on his own and quote on quote 'busting for a piss'. Matt was not a happy camper.

Rain called off play for the day so it was all about another night out. Johnny Bravo himself turned up in our room, probably the funniest Oz we've ever met, and re-introduced us to Uno! (the card game). Goon was sunk (a carton of very cheap wine - woof) and it was another night on the tiles. Same old!

Final day in Cairns was a relaxing look around, with Matt trying to keep it under control with the Six nations pending. The rest of the goon sunk and some more Woolshed action Matt retired to the casino to watch Wales. Come half five in the morning Chris woke up cuddling an extatctic Welsh lunatic as he ran riot in the hostel. Luke was treated to a plastic snake around his head, Matt's bag and a big high five. It was safe to say Wales won.............. finally! The next day it was off to Townsville, Matt still swaying and a five hour bus ride ahead. SGT Bilko was driving (don't break the rules or else!!) and our first of many Disney DVD's was watched.