Good StuffWell wasn't this a whale of a time! Oh God I'm so sorry... Whale watching was GREAT. I know a lot of it was luck, but lucky we were. We also got a sort of vaguely mumbled suggestion that there was a bat colony in the town. They didn't really convey the magnitude of the thing very well: I'm beginning to think I might be a "wildlife person"? Agnes Water had a moderately fun "motorbike" tour (read: tiny underpowered bikes done up to look like American choppers) and the highlight there was the kangaroos. Maybe I should open a zoo. That stop was also greatly enhanced by our throwing a bit more money at the accommodation and getting a moderately sized flat with a view that stretched over about 80% of the known universe. Bad StuffI guess depending on your patience the loooooong 8-10 hour bus trips between locations becomes a bit of a drag. Rainbow Beach—while pretty—wasn't particularly exciting and consisted mostly of a coffee shop. And a beach. Also I lost my hat within five minutes of buying it because I underestimated how windy the whale watching boat would be, so that sucked. Finally the supposedly "legendary" potato wedges we stopped for on the bike tour turned out to be undercooked blobs of mush, so if you do that particular jaunt ignore the screaming lunatic biker dude that won't shut up about how "F@#!ING TASTY" they are. Mood StuffShowcasing, once again, the power of mental health issues to make no sense, one of the most melancholy spots I had on this leg was during the whale watching. What madness. I had hours and hours of Greyhound coach boredom to get all pensive and introspective and junk, but I saved it for the boat. It wasn't overwhelming by any stretch, but there was this nagging feeling of.... I guess a sort of tired numbness mixed in with the wonder of massive mammals throwing themselves about. It can be like that sometimes: nothing like the bleak misery of the famed Brisbane train ride; more just a detachment from what you're experiencing. Depression isn't always about being depressed...
I wonder if I could sell that as a bumper sticker.
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Author28 year old computer scientist/physicist with major depressive disorder, a need to write, and a deep-rooted mistrust of beetroot. Categories
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February 2018
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