Mrs Fraser's paradise

From the window of our wheels
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Ages ago, a big ol ship got wrecked in a storm. Captain Fraser was killed. His wife was washed up upon the shore of this island, and looked after by aborigional tribes. Hence the name of the island.

Nowadays, 75 mile beach (a literal title) is crawling with 4 wheel drives bombing up and down on the sand filled with young and adventurous tourists. Some of whom see fit to chuck beer cans around. Only some. But still, old mrs fraser is probably turning in her grave.

I was in a group of 11 in a big trucky thing, and i was in charge of food shopping for the three days. We shot around the supermarket while the others learnt to drive the beast, and then hopped on a ferry over to fraser and we went on our own.

The lake by the dune
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We followed the suggested tour itinerary, seeing all the lakes and old boat wrecks and lookout points it suggested. It was wonderful driving along by the sea, and swimming in the freshwater lakes and chilling out.

We camped the two nights at base camp, with two tents between us (when you have a huge irishman snoring as loudly in your ear as a speaker side seat at a slipknot concert this is not as fun as it sounds) and cooked and drank around the site. We had bought a lot of goon to be cost effective, and a lot of beer. We had a BBQ and pasta. It was lovely and everyone mucked in.

That old ship wreck
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It's a gorgeous place which, apart from the 4WDs everywhere, looks pretty untouched. Lots of driving on really bumpy sands through jungle was also a highlight, if slightly sickening.

Apparently (my mother tells me) many people have done this tour and know how wicked it is. I should really go into more detail. But i have an overnight bus journey ahead of me which i am not looking forward to and i have to shower and pack, so im gonna go sort myself out after a rather sandy day. xxx