I recently took a long weekend for my my birthday and drove to Bundaberg to see the turtles with Mr Reread. The town is described as 'modern and progressive' in the tourism brochure - the locals didn't get the memo. We booked in to a beach-side cabin resort, of which our cabin was unfortunately next door to an entire family or 'ford' of bogans. Mr Bogan was up at 8am the first morning 'thonging' through the carport directly behind our bedroom and emptying an endless supply of empty bottles into the Otto. Delightful.
|Driving toward Bargara|
|Closed on Sunday - good thing we didn't need any fuzzy dice or a gun|
On the Sunday, we drove out to a national park, that turned out to be more of a swamp and took a little turn around the swampy grasslands, it was pretty. We arrived back into Bundaberg looking to eat the arse out of a low-flying duck. Do you think there are any cafes open on a Sunday? No, there is not and apparently Woolies in Bundy observes the Sabbath too. We eventually found an IGA and made a dodgy salad of sorts before the 'turtles'.
|These cute macropods were just chilling in someone's front yard|
That night we went down to Mon Repos for the turtle experience. This is what made the trip totally worth the while. We were in the first group to go down to the beach. Standing in the darkness with 10 billion twinkling stars above us we got to see a nest of hatchlings emerge and run down the beach to the ocean. Only about one in 1000 of these little guys will survive to adulthood. Nature's a bitch huh.
|Babies don't get much cuter than this|
|Just hatched - a baby loggerhead|
|Using torches to guide them to the ocean|
On our last morning we had breakfast in the main street with the locals paddling in the significantly shallow gene pool. As we made our way to the car a tall, pock-faced boy walked by us and bode farewell to his mate who had ducked into a clothing store 'see ya later fuckwitt'. And that was the closing chapter of our Bundaberg weekend.
If you're ever up that way make sure you see the turtles. And don't bother going to the 'mystery craters' on the way to Gin Gin. The biggest mystery is why we paid $7.50 to see some slimy holes in some lady's backyard?
|'Mystery craters' and a hairstyle that really needs to be Photoshoped|