Agnes Waters and 1770 - 29th Jan to 1st Feb

After our second early start on the trot we arrived by Greyhound Bus in Agnes Waters around 10am. On the bus journey down we bumped in to Chris and Charlotte again, a couple we had met in our hostel in Airlie beach. They had already booked accommodation at 1770 Backpackers so rather than messing around we jumped off the shuttle with them and booked a dorm for three nights there also. After getting a quick bite to eat for breakfast we made the 5 minute walk down to the beach where we were finally able to go into the water without the risk of being killed by stingers and for the first time we could witness first hand the famous Australian surf. After a few hours of being battered by the sea and the windswept sand we headed back to the hostel where we spent the afternoon catching up with Chris and Charlotte before watching Nadal in his semi final battle of the Australian open.

The next day we all got up early and booked ourselves in for a surf lesson. Unlike belly boarding, which I feel I am quite good at, surfing was a new challenge for me and thankfully the others too and for $22 it was a bit of bargain really. After meeting our far out friend at the surf shop we chucked on the rash vests, picked up our boards and headed for the beach. As advised the swell was much larger than the day before and this was apparent from the moment we arrived at the beach as the waves were smashing down leaving the sand beneath our feet trembling and us even more so. After a quick safety briefing we entered the water and the next two hours 'totally ruled dude'. Chris was the first to stand followed by Rachel and then Charlotte with myself however seeming to struggle with gravity for a while before finally standing and surfing all the way to the shoreline. Howevere, this was not before getting completely smashed on a number of occasions. Rachel's face in many of the pictures will tell their own story. I did try telling her that closing her eyes just as the waves were coming was not the best idea but hey, who am I to give advice when with the way she was performaing it should be the other way round. One photo we have was taken by Chris, it shows me wiped out just untangling my feet from the surf board with a wall of water about to crash down on top, and believe me it hurt. As our lesson drew to an end pretty much everyone was looking weary as the amount of effort it took to get back out past the breaking point each time exerted more energy than I did at a gym for 2 hours. With surf board under one arm and the rash vest in the other we left the beach as if we were in a scene from Baywatch and headed back to surf shop to collect our certificate; oh yes we are now both qualified level one safe surfers. Before heading back to the hostel we called in for a bit more food at the supermarket and then spotted a standard poodle in the back of a pickup. Now this poodle fitted the hippie scene the area had to offer perfectly as it had green ears with blue streaks and a pink body; she was the 70's version of our Bella.

As the day passed with little antics we settled for a game of scrabble which I beat Rachel "get in" but not Chris… before chilling out watching more tennis and surfing the net. On our final day in Agnes Water Rachel and I decided it would be a good idea to walk to the town of 1770, an 8km walk down the highway. At the time it seemed like a good thing to do, burn off the carbs and work up a sweat, that's pretty much how it went down. After an hour and a half of walking we rolled into the marina quickly followed by the town. The place was quiet and picturess, mango trees around each corner and birds singing in every tree. With barley a sole in sight we started the walk up the hill to the viewpoint only to be offered a lift half way up by a couple of travelers from Italy and Holland. On reaching the viewpoint we overlooked Agnes waters and 1770 in its entirety. The sea smashed into the rocks below and a sand bar was appearing out at sea bringing back memories of the Whitsundays. After chilling out and catching our breath we made our way back down to the town which consisted of a camp site, one bar, one café and about 20 people. We stopped off for lunch at the café and got stuck in to some of the best potato wedges known to man, made fresh from their own spuds served with a layer of homemade sour cream and sweet chilli sauce with flakes of chives for decoration. 'Now that's one way to glam up potato wedges'. Now completely refreshed and nowhere near ready for the walk back we started the long journey home, although we did not get far before hitching a lift with 3 German girls heading in our direction. Now hitching hiking is something I never thought I would do but for the mothers out there I checked out the car, I saw the girls and naturally I put my thumb up. I guess the shaved head look just does it for people, although when Rachel then jumped out from the bush their chance was gone. During the afternoon little in the way of activities happened, the sun was out and the breeze was brisk so we laid in the hammocks overlooking the kitchen for a couple of hours before choosing our seats to watch the final of the Australia open in the hope that Rafa can do it again.