And so to Cairns

After the utter humiliation with Clint it was more than time to move on. Plus we'd gained a strange room mate who I suspected of being a closet psychopath. (Actually have no evidence, and the only concrete thing I have against him is the public clipping of his toenails in our bedroom).

I'm afraid we had Wilson for breakfast before catching the greyhound to Cairns, our last stop. He was delicious.

We'd booked one night at a girls hostel where (the 'lonely planet' guide assured us) we would be names and not numbers. This was undoubtedly true but when it comes to the landlady popping into your room first thing in the morning to ask how you've slept, you may feel a bit of anonymity goes a long way.

We checked into a hugh resort type hostel for the next few nights,where we were happy numbers in air-con heaven. Shared another four bed dorm, this time with an American man. He seemed the most normal of all our male roomies, though I couldn't help but notice that he had more toiletries than me- all stacked in a formidable metropolis around the sink. No room for us girls to lay our humble toothbrushes. (Never a good sign in a man- after soap, razor, deodorant and perhaps aftershave what more could they need?)