So on we trekked to Rockhampton, and Yeppoon. Every opportunity we had, we joked about Yeppoon, as Elissa had decided that 'poon' had an alternative meaning, possibly one Ali-G enthusiasts would be able to discern more readily than me. Being a seaside town, I mentioned Yeppoon had an odd odour about it. Elissa said she liked the look of Yeppoon, it looked very well kept. It was raining a lot, so I'm sure you can invent your own smut from here.
The real reason for being there at all, though, was to get to Great Keppel Island, where we had booked a room at the resort for three nights. Boarding the boat tomorrow, still in the rain, we both realised it wasn't going to be a relaxing cruise across to an island paradise. Instead, it was the most unsettling, violent boat journey of my life, my stomach lurching up and down, waves practically breaking on top of the boat and at least two people's stomachs deciding they'd had quite enough. I pressed a pressure point in Elissa's wrists, inspired by these things to the right, and saved either of us having to see what we'd had for breakfast again.
Great Keppel Island was an island paradise though. Beautiful rainforests, clear tropical seas, white beaches and palm trees with gentle waves breaking on the shore. And the resort was, well, a holiday resort full of soulless whitewashed buildings, tacky bars and shops, but also lots of facilities for swimming, tennis, squash, golf, kayaking (all of which we tried) and a host of other activities. It was also home to these odd-looking birds, whose name I forget. And Elissa played golf, reluctantly, and collected gumnuts like she had done the last time she was there (some twenty-or-so years a
go) and we had a great time, and felt very relaxed when we left. And the sea had calmed down a bit too, so the cruise back was much more bearable.The drive back to the Gold Coast was an all day affair, and a bit more. We madeit as far as Gladstone, straight off the ferry, but found it to be a dull and expensive mining town, with nothing to see. We asked what there was to do in Gladstone the following morning. "Have you been to Rockhampton?" Yes. "Have you been to Bundaberg?" Yes. So we made the most of our driving time, and got going. And aside from stopping at the Bellingham hedge maze, we drove all day, covered about a thousand kilometres and spent the night at "El Rancho" in the Gold Coast. Specifically in Miami. Uh. Y-all feel that? Uh. South Beach, bringin' the heat. Uh.
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