Left Brisbane early Saturday morning, slightly dazed but glad to be on our way once more. Our first port of call for the day was Rainbow Beach, so-called for the vast array of different colour sand along the beach. As far as we could see however the name Yellow Beach or No-Different-To-Any-Other Beach would have been more appropriate, and we left the beach some what disappointed. Rainbow Beach also provided us with the chance to stay a night and make our own didges, something we would have liked to have done but time and money where against us (or at least me). Instead we where given a performance by one of the locals. Onward we pushed, making one stop for lunch later in the day and finally arrived in Hervey Bay later that day. Once we were checked in we sort out the lads (Tom, Dom and Andy) who had just finished there Fraser trip and would be leaving the next day, and through them we met Davo, Jono and Stevo who had been on the same trip as them. That night we enjoyed all you can eat pizza which is always good and then had a few drinks in the hostel before heading out to check out what Hervey Bay had to offer in the way of nightlife. At first we were somewhat disappointed by what we found, before being given a tip off that a bar down the road, Beach House, was the place to go. Arrived there to find a large number of Austrailians (strangly enough generally a rare occurance for a backpackers night out in Oz) and the music to be cheesier than Matts shoes incased in a 10kg block of edam! Never the less we made the most of it and we all enjoyed ourselves. The next morning we had to be up painfully early and suddenly last nights outing didn't seem such a good idea, but after a couple of slices of cold pizza kept from the night before we started to feel better. This is when we were to meet our Fraser Island group, these people being the eople we would spend the next 3 days with driving around the Island. To say most of the lads where slightly disappointed would be somethiong of an understatment and we all had to come to terms with the fact that there would be only one girl in our group of 10. We got ourselves all into the car and we headed off to the supermarket to pick up food, and more importantly beer for the next few days. Once all our Homebrand food (this being the Oz equivalent of Safeways savers (cheap and nasty!)) and beer was packed away in the car we had a date with a ferry that we take us to the Island. Once on the Isalnd we headed toward the beach/motorway to check out some of the sites. This is where it came apparent that our packing skills were not yet up to standard as every pack of food and a number of beer cans proceded to throw themselves out from the above storage compartment. Myself taking quite a whack from a falling bag of suger and a couple of corn flakes boxes. Our first stop for the day was Eli Creek which we had a quick dip in before taking refugee on our towels and playing a little frisbee. Once all ten were again all crammed in to the car we went in search of our first campsite. Our found we went looking for firewood, knowing full well we weren't allowed fires on the Island, but who was gonna check anyway. Once a large pile was formed and an appropriate place for the fire found out of nowhere one of the Island ranger appeared and we all suddenly claimed the neat pile of sticks had nothing to do with us. She was more than a little sceptical and politly informed us of the penalties for being caught lighting a fire, there would be no fire that night. After our BBQ dinner very kindly served up to us by Donal (or Irish as he was more commonly known) we sat around and drank our beers whilst getting to know each other. We already knew Tom and Roger slightly from the Oz bus, but other than that everyone else where strangers to us. Tue (kind of prenounced Chew, or at leas thats what we called him) the Dane who was a black belt in Judo and was something of a poker hussler having payed for his whole travel trip through his winnings on internet poker sites. Mitch and Craig seemed like a good couple of lads. Mike, who had driven us most of the day, was a friendly guy. Donal liked his beers like every Irish bloke. And Hairy Mute (we genuinely can't remember her real name) had a tash and said next to nothing, hence the nickname. The night then turned to poker and a number of the guys placed a little money down for a few hands and the night slowly drifted by. (If you're reading this now, then the rest will shortly follow as we've gotta get on our night train to Bangkok, and I'll finish it there) Andy