Magnetic Island, take two

Warning: This post is really long. It is also, however, filled with pictures. Beware.

So, as expected, I am awful at updating this, and as I am about to go on a new adventure, I figure I should get up my entry about my last one -- a visit to Magnetic Island, almost three weeks ago. Although my first visit to this miniature paradise was less than I expected, my second visit was all that much more than I could have hoped.



























Although we got a later start than we wanted, and the ferry ride out was concerningly turbulent, we were picked up from the ferry terminal by the extraordinarily nice couple who owned the first place we were staying. Although I do not have a picture of it, the inside of the car they picked us up in was akin to a giant, squishy lamb. It was covered in inches of fluff, which was in turn covered by some material that was made to mimic sheep pelts. The house itself was something of a mix between a hostel and a bed and breakfast. Most of the rooms were nicer, more expensive, and fitted to only two people, but we managed to get a place in the room called "Horseshoe Bay," which was made for four people. To our luck, the room was only $30/person/night, even if there were not four people in the party, and although this room was one of their less extravagant ones, it was still impeccable.







I ate this. The whole thing. It consisted of a bun and burger - ordinary enough - but also contained a mystery meat (which I am fairly certain was some kind of bacon), sauted onions, a fried egg, pineapple, tomato, lettuce, beats, and normally it would have carrots, as well, though I asked for it without those.

We only stayed at our first shelter for a night, though, and the next day we packed up to begin our hike from Arcadia Bay to Horseshoe Bay. Honestly, I don't know how far the hike was, but it took us about four hours. One map (which I've now lost) allowed me to estimate it was 5km, but as we all know, estimates are not my strong point. However far it was, I can now truly appreciate hiking without anything on my back.













On our way, there was a small offshoot from the path that led to a waterfall, at the bottom of which was a picturesque pool with a rope swing hanging from a tree. I'll admit that, out of the four hours we hiked, at least half an hour was spent here.










Eventually (meaning when a bunch of guys came to sit in the pool at the bottom of the waterfall and drink beer) we left and continued on our hike.








Finally, we arrived at Horseshoe Bay, where I promptly found a really cool looking dead possum!




























Our destination was Bungalow Bay Koala Village, a hostel in the midst of a national park. Originally, we booked the cheapest accommodation we could, intending to share a room with six strangers. Yet, when we arrived, we learned that we were lucky enough to receive a free upgrade (due, most likely, to an overbooking somewhere) to a two person bungalow...with air-conditioning. Normally, I am not one for artificially cooled air, but after only knowing restless sleep due to the heat for a month, even toxic coolants start to sound like a brilliant idea. It. Was. Fantastic.

Here, we met up with out other friend, Amy, who only stayed one night, but was awesome to have nonetheless. (The "we" I have been referring to the whole time is me and my friend, Lindsey, by the way.) After our hike, we weren't up for anything too strenuous, so we spent the rest of the day chilling at the beach...until it started to rain.

The agenda for the next day (for me, at least) was to snorkel. Unfortunately, when we went to rent the equipment to do so, we were informed that a cyclone (which never ended up hitting us) was on its way, and the conditions were bad for such things. After a brief bout of disappointment, I happily lounged on the beach while Amy and Lindsey went jet skiing. I must admit, it looked like a great deal of fun, but the price was a bit too high for me!

After spending some time at the beach(less than an hour, actually....with sunscreen....and I still managed to get burned!), and eating not-college (and therefore delicious) food, Amy had to leave (it was a really short trip for here, but she had bee there the weekend before anyway), and Lindsey and I decided to hike a trail called The Forts Walk, which we had heard much about.

All the fantastic reviews we heard about it were true (except that we would see wild koalas there), and the pictures and videos that follow are really the only way I can even begin to describe what it was like.

















You can ignore the conversation I am having as I begin to record this one :p




The Forts Walk is a trail that goes through an area that was a fort back in WWII, and is now basically just ruins. One of the main buildings still stands, though, at the top of one of the tallest hills on the island, and that is where we hiked to. We lucked out and made it to the top just as the sun was setting.

It took me three weeks to get this up, but it may be one of the longest (in literal length, if not word length) blogs known to the internet. I shall leave you, then, with this, the beautiful song of tropical birds:

The Brown Recluse Spider

"Also known as the violin spider, this is seems to be one of the few poisonous (occasionally even deadly) spiders not found in Australia, and instead found in the U.S. Despite my current location in the southern hemisphere, this seems to be exactly what I have turned into. In the past week I have watched approximately fifteen episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation, read five issues of The Uncanny X-Men, played an uncounted number of hours of Neverwinter Nights, looked up more information on spiders than any one person ever should, spent almost every minute on Skype, and cleaned my room. In between these tasks, I have attended classes, meals, and slept. Needless to say, I have been spending an inordinate amount of time alone. In my room.
Somehow, I failed to notice this until very recently."

This is what I wrote, intending to publish it, one week ago (scratch that, it's been two weeks now). I fell out of writing it (obviously), and though I could continue along the lines on which I started, I think that a distinct break between that and this is necessary. Much has changed. Namely, the fact that I am no longer a hermit.

Originally, I was going to go into detail about how my reclusive attitude, though not good in many aspects, at least gave me time to think. I would say now, however, that such an "opportunity" to ponder was exactly what I did not need. Thinking, in these days, translates to worrying for me. When I sit down and think about something, nine times out of ten it means that I am worrying about it: wondering what I should do, how I should handle a situation; hoping that I will do well on a test or assignment; being paranoid about how I reacted in a certain situation, and wishing I had handled it differently. I think that I may have become my mother (for those of you who know her, this should make far too much sense, as well as make you cringe).

There was a time when I rarely worried about anything. Indeed, I probably should have worried a little bit more than I did about things like my physical wellbeing (I had a tendency to ignore what my body told me), but it was nice to be free. That's really what it was; free. I have decided that stress is the ultimate prison. When I worried less, I was much more creative, much more philosophical, but since this web of stress has captured me, I seem to have lost some of the traits that I prided the most in myself. I don't know when my transformation occurred. It must have been a slow process, that I did not notice it, starting most likely around I began college.

Almost the entire reason I am in Australia right now is because I recognized that I lost myself. I suppose I've seen it for a little while now, actually. I have several suspects for the reason, but they all seem to biol down to stressors that I did not have before. I must admit, a great deal of my logic was something to the extent of "if I get away from it, maybe I'll see the problems more, and know how to deal with them." Sitting around and thinking for the past however many months has done nothing to solve my problems. My hope is that forgetting about my problems, allowing myself to gain some new perspectives, will prove a better solution.

And so, my conclusion is that giving myself time to think via becoming a recluse, is the worst possible behavior I could possibly engage in.

(Incidentally, I was going to put up a picture of my clean room here, but it is no longer clean. Perhaps I will try to get it back to its less cluttered state and get a picture of it up with my next blog entry.)