Well, I'm now in Queensland after another ridiculously long bus journey, (I think I may have seen more roads than anything in Australia) but hey, this is my last long one for a while so I cant complain too much! So having arrived in Cairns at one o'clock in the morning, getting locked out of the hostel room I was staying in (and really annoying the night security because of waking them up twice), the task was to find a job. Finances were running seriously low so there wasn't even a chance to enjoy the sun! But thankfully after just two days of searching I was offered two jobs. I don't know. Just like buses. Nothing and then two of them come along at once. A big relief was that neither had anything to do with any sort of fruit or picking, and after my experiences with melons I'm glad of that. Bus driving was the name of the game and whilst I can drive, and have been driving since I was 17, a mini bus is a whole different ball game; as my mum said: if they had seen the rather sizeable dint in the side of my car at home well they probably wouldn't have offered me the job. So I'm now driving for Koala beach resort which is a youth hostel in the centre of Cairns and, despite picking up a parking ticket on my second day (I'm still employed by them), I'm enjoying the change in career paths from melon picking. Cairns is in the far north of Queensland and is known as the gateway to the great barrier reef. It's a bit of a party city for back packers. It's small, with a population of about 100,000, but has everything you need and more. With the barrier reef on its door step Cairns is full of tourists and back packers alike. But then I don't think I have been any where in Australia that isn't full of sun burnt bodies and has a mere hand full of Aussies! Cairns is also known as a bit of an adventure playground although I reckon I'll leave it until I've done a bungee jump or sky dive to tell my mum. It could be a while of course; I need some money first, but with a few more six o'clock starts (groan) hopefully I'll have enough to hurl myself out of a plane from 13,000 feet. Claire M Could you be a student diarist? If you hail from North Yorkshire or are studying in the county and think you could squeeze out a few hundred words about once a month (more if you want to!) get in touch with us by emailing [email protected] |