Jo and I are sitting at Airlie Beach, killing time before we board our boat to go sailing in the Whitsundays. We must have been a little distracted when we were booking our packages though, because upon throughly investigating the information and brochures last night we discovered that the boat we are boarding is billed as "simply romantic" and for "love and romance." I think we're bound to be slightly dissapointed by the romance that the New Horizon promises. After all, we've shared a mosquito net for 6 weeks and a bunk bed for the last 2 weeks. What could possibly be more romantic than that? Some hand-holding is definitely in order, though.
All jokes aside, we're crossing our fingers and hoping that our boat isn't completely filled with amourous couples. We're also hoping that the clouds clear, because after 10 days of straight sunshine, rain is threatening to pour down on our romantic holiday.
Some aspects of Australia are beginning to wear on me. Three, to be specific. First, I can't economically afford to be here. Second, I really like to eat, which is directly correlated with number one. Finally, my biggest problem with Australia is the sleaziness and seediness of the backpacking scene here. I'm all for partying (I'd be lying if I said I wasn't), but after being in Vanuatu for six weeks, I'm having a lot of trouble processing things that occur at the bar. For instance, I haven't worn anything but t-shirts since I've returned, because I feel scandalous if I wear anything less (the exception being, of course, when I go to the beach and frolick around in my bikini). I find myself looking at girls in conservative tank tops and mentally accusing them of being of loose morale, despite the fact that the way they are dressed is completely acceptable by Western standards. I'm also having a huge problem that as a single female travelling, I'm automatically pegged as being looking for action. . .because I'm not.
While we were in Byron Bay, we went to Cheeky Monkey's, which everyone had raved about.
"It's so crazy! Everyone dances on the tables!" everyone told us, "You HAVE to go!" (Everything about Cheeky's is typically said with exclaimation marks.)
Dancing? I love dancing! Tables? I love eating on tables! Dancing on tables? Okay! Overuse of exclaimation marks when describing the place? Sounds like a good time to me! I was sold, and we headed out to Cheeky's.
When we got to the bar, we went straight to the dance floor, to discover a complete lack of dance floor. It turns out the reason that everyone dances on the tables at Cheeky's is because there is no other space to dance. Jo and I rebelled by being the token people at the bar to dance on the narrow space in between the tables on the dance floor. Yup, Cheeky Monkey's is so crazy! Unable to process the contrived "craziness," we left the bar 20 minutes later.
Okay, I admit it. I'm just grumpy because my Mp3 player died, and I probably won't be able to fix it until I get home (one 10-hour bus ride and one 22-hour plane ride later).
Overall though, I'm having an awesome time in Australia. I love the fact that I get to spend every day in the water, and could honestly see myself living here.