Sunshine Coast: Mooloolaba & Maroochydore

The trek back north to Brisbane, which we'd trained by night, was supposedly a very simple thing. Get on the train, listen to the voice that tells you where the train terminates, get off, and go about your business. This, however, did not seem to be the case. Along the entire one hour duration of the train ride a friendly man's voice told me (I would say 'us', but the others being German I was automatically nominated travel organization guy and therefore responsible for everyone) that we all had to get off at the Southbank station. Southbank was very far from the hostel that we'd intended on staying at, but I figured it wasn't a problem... we'd just catch another train from Southbank to Roma and be done with it all since "Cloudnine Backpackers" was only a few steps from there. I was eager to get on our way, so when the train slowed down to stop (and what I assumed would be a termination) I already had my bag flung over my shoulder waiting for the doors to open. With a 'bing' they did, and I hopped off into the fresh air already looking at the screens which would tell me what train to catch to Roma next. Well, soon after jumping off I heard another 'bing'... signalling the closed doors which now blocked my poor, innocent, and unprotected German buddies from getting to me. Panicked about my friends fading off into the unknown, all I could do was wave to an already laughing Annika who also looked utterly confused as she slowly shrunk from view. Sharing her sentiments and a somewhat pissed off feeling at the inaccuracy of the stupid voice... I sat down, ate the rest of my sandwich, and called my German friends to figure out exactly where they were going. Roma Street? Oh great. Friggen genius. I still insist blame should be laid on the stupid voice for lying to me about the final destination, but not being able to change the situation I walked up to a police officer on the platform (for all you future travellers, know that human interaction is the most DIRECT and easy way to get information no matter what) to find out when the next train to Roma would be. Well, it appeared that none was due for the next couple hours because the next was a direct to the Gold coast... this doesn't happen often people, know that I picked the WORST time to get off on the wrong stop... Still hating the voice, I picked up my 50 lb bag and walked the 3 km across Brisbane central at 11 pm. I wasn't what I would consider scared, considering I'd done East Hastings in Vancouver at an even more obscene hour, but I most certainly wasn't entertaining the welcoming look of a criminal target. And I must've been an odd sight to all those street people: pissed off-looking Canadian backpacker staring a hole into the Beerwah travel map. But I got to Roma. Eventually.
And thus begun the hunt for a hostel bed on the NRL grand final weekend, when Brisbane's team (Brisbane Broncos) was actually involved in the final. We were idiots, but nonetheless lucky enough to find beds after much hopping.
The next morning Annika, Janina, and myself caught another train further North to the sunny coast. Marco decided to stay along in Brisbane to meet up with Katie (Other Gappie from All Souls) and then do some travelling on his own. Feeling slightly deserted, but not too remorseful, we said goodbye and made sure to get a decent translink map before making any stopping commitments. I refused to listen to any voices this time (although this voice did turn out to be accurate anyway) and I made my own effort to keep track of our whereabouts on the journey to Mooloolaba. Mooloolaba turned out to be great fun and just a wicked time to relax on the beach after all my mess on the Gold coast. There definately is a different 'aura' surrounding Sunny, because it satisfies the need for surf and sun but lacks the evident (mainly Asian) tourist population of the Gold coast; the best of both worlds. We stayed in the Mooloolaba Backpackers for 3 nights during which we watched the Bronco's slam the Melbourne Storm while playing poker, consuming GB & wine, and watching the funniest, most drunk old couple I've ever seen in my life. Free surf boards were made available by the hostel for one of the days, and so we made a beach day out of it, where I showcased my Surfers Paradise 'surfing skills' on nearly non-existant waves. Embarrassment seems to be less of an influencing factor when your travelling, it seems. Mooloolaba was good place to be at but we certainly weren't done with our travels. The girls were also getting noticeably more anxious to do some Hervey Bay whale-watching so we collectively packed our things and boarded the bus in Maroochydore, just north of Mooloolaba. A side note is how interesting a place Maroochydore (pronounced MAH-ROO-CHEE-DOOR) seemed to be too. When we got there after a rush into town to make the greyhound (which we didn't) we had some time to peek around, and that's when we saw the great venician-like mall as seen in some pictures I will soon post. You have no clue that the shopping centre you walk into, from the outside, is as scenic a place as it turned out...but it really was a great way to waste a couple hours. Well, that's my entry for today. Cheers.