After lots of flying and no sleep, there I was standing in day care in a Perth suburb with lots of toddlers running around my ankles. I wasn’t really sure what was going on but after my friend, Paul, and I picked his son Rhys up and headed back to their house everything became slightly less surreal. Absolutely fantastic to see my friends Caroline, Paul and little Rhys and great of them to put me up for a few days. I will never be able to get the Peppa Pig theme tune out my head and I now know all the moves to the Wiggles!

I thought that by doing something normal and by allowing Paul and Caroline to sign me up for the City to Surf run in Perth, it wouldn’t seem so strange being in this foreign land. A day after arriving in Australia, there I was puffing my way around the streets of Perth and out towards the Indian Ocean. I had hardly allowed my granny ankles time to reduce in size (swollen after the flight) and here I was punishing my body. Anyway, I was pleased with my time of 59 minutes for 12km but my feet were in pieces. Blisters like pickled onions on my toes! Thankfully Paul and Caroline have a fantastic Sunday night routine to keep the work blues away… Hot tub Sundays! Absolute bliss – a fine wine, a bubbling soak and a documentary about the foremost artist of our time, Mylee Cyrus (on the outdoor TV!). As long as none of my pickled onions burst while we were in there everything was great!

Four fantastic days spent with Paul and Caroline and the coolest dude in town, Rhys, and I was off again to Melbourne. Absolutely bloody freezing! Only a flying 24 hour visit but great to be back and then another flight up to Cairns. I was of course surprised by the heat as I stepped off the plane and absolutely delighted to see a giant cockroach scuttling around in my room. Welcome to the tropics! I ventured out for a beer to calm my nerves only to be accosted by a giant bear of man with three teeth who insisted that he and his brother should sit with me for safety (I’m not sure who’s safety) and then made a joke, with an undercurrent of malice, about robbing me. Thankfully I had said that I didn’t have any money. I scampered back to the safety of my cockroach infested room with one eye over my shoulder.

Eight nights in Port Douglas then followed where I had to stay out of trouble, not get eaten and not spend all my money before Caroline would arrive and we could start our adventure proper. Port Douglas is about one hour north of Cairns and the drive up is spectacular as the road follows the coast. Beach after secluded beach and turquoise ocean as far as the eye can see.

The minute I got to my place of residence in Port Douglas I started speaking to a guy who had been on the bus with me. Of course Steve was Scottish and of course he was from Hamilton! Absolutely fantastic guy and good to have some like-minded company to keep me entertained for the week until Caroline arrived. He immediately set about getting work and managed to put his skills to good use in a kebab shop.

When we were planning this part of the trip I thought it would be great to camp – cheap and easy – I had done it a thousand times before. In reality it was pretty grim. My bloomin mattress kept deflating so I would wake up each morning lying on rocks and my home for the next while could only be described as a tent shaped coffin. Who would invent a tent that was only 5ft by 4ft?! It seems we may have bought a Wendy house and the fact that it got to boiling point by around 8am in the tent didn’t lend itself to nice long lies!

Port Douglas is situated on Four mile beach and is utterly delightful. It just goes on forever (four miles to be precise!). It’s one of the few places in the world where the rainforest meets the ocean. Pretty much what many would imagine paradise to be like. I spent many days lying around doing not very much – the occasional swim in the jellyfish and crocodile infested water, reading my book and dozing in the sun. Sheer bliss listening to the sound of the gentle breeze moving through the palm trees around, then THUMP, and another THUMP. I swear, if one of those coconuts falling out the trees hit you, you’d be done for. Still, not a bad way to go. It would be like the Bounty advert but with an alternative ending. “Bounty, a taste of paradise <SPLAT>!”

I had my first ever go at yoga. It took place early on the beach. Just me, twenty middle aged women all smelling of Chanel no 5 and the instructor who was pretty much identical to Dustin Hoffman’s character in Meet the Fockers! Apparently I was a natural, very flexible and I would soon be a yoga instructor he kept telling me as he wandered past and repeatedly touched me to correct my positioning. I even had a passer-by take a photo of me as I was mid ‘downward dog’!

Next on the agenda was a go at stand up paddle boarding. Basically like kayaking but you stand up on a giant surf board and paddle around looking cool. The other people doing it made it look pretty easy and a completely relaxing place to be as they gracefully glided through the water. After eight belly flops, a mild concussion from the board and multiple faux shark sighting panics, I finally managed to stand up and paddle around, albeit with ‘disco legs’ and the paddle flailing wildly above my head as I tried to keep my balance.

Lots of fantastic sunsets, the odd bonfire down the beach at night, shooting stars, ice cream and good (and not so good) conversations with people from all over the world over a cold beer – it really was a good week. Finally the day came and I set off for Cairns to pick up Caroline from the airport. I hoped she had made it!