I thought it would be rude not to do at least one touristy thing while I was in Brisbane, so I plumped for a trip to Fraser Island, which is the world's largest sand island and lies a few hours' trip northeast of the city. I joined a tour group rather than hiring a car, because I'm lazy and I figured (as I had in Cairns) that I'd be much better off having someone to tell me what's what.

And how right I was! It was a fabulous fabulous tour, with a small group of cool people and a chilled-out guide who knew everything there was to know about the island. And I even somehow got to sit in the front seat of the 4WD on both days, despite offering the seat to the others! So my buttocks had plenty to be thankful for too.

Jack dropped me at the Roma Street Travel Centre at 6.30am on Tuesday, bless him, which saved me a train journey and gave me an extra 15 minutes in bed. There I met the three English lads who were on the tour as well: Chris (who is living in Brisbane) and Phil & John (who were out visiting him from the UK). The journey took us out past the Glasshouse Mountains, one of which looked a little like Sugarloaf Mountain in Rio, and to the coast at Noosa, which is a very posh little beach resort.

We stopped there for coffee, and picked up the other passengers, two Kiwi girls called Ngaire and Ellen. It was at this point that I scored the front seat - yay! Soon we were off the paved roads and onto the beach highway. This is a bizarre concept, which I hadn't seen since 90 Mile Beach in New Zealand's Northland region. Only there it was just tourists, whereas here there are actually people living off this road, with no other way of getting to their house!

We rounded the headland and found ourselves on Rainbow Beach, so named for its multicoloured sands. I was imagining purples and greens, but in fact it's just a very broad range of reds, ochres and yellows. Quite pleasing.

Then we stopped for lunch in a little town on the seaside before heading up the coast a little to where the Fraser Island ferries pick up passengers. They have boats that can basically sail right up on to the beach, so your 4WD can drive right on board without having to worry about a jetty or some such.

On the other side, the real magic began. We headed up 75 Mile Beach, which seems like an endless stretch of flat yellow sand disappearing into the distance, fringed on one side by vegetation and on the other by the sea. This is the enduring Fraser Island experience, really. It is just amazing.

While on the island we saw stunning freshwater lakes, lush rainforest (this is the only place on Earth where rainforest is to be found on a sand soil), vast expanses of sand dune, unique plant species - some dating back to the Jurassic period - and at night a sky that was full to overflowing with stars, planets, and galaxies. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and not a breath of wind to disrupt my awe-struck gaping at the heavens in their nocturnal glory.

The evening's beers and dinner were of a good price/enormity ratio. We had a laugh over dinner and then over beers in the rapidly cooling camp site. The overnight camping was not too much of an ordeal. The weather was kind to us, so we didn't have to contend with floods or gales. I slept reasonably well, only once waking with the paranoid fear that a dingo was chewing on my right knee (perhaps it was because we'd seen a mystic-seeming and hungry-looking dingo on the beach the night before).

The next day was even more special, because that was the day we got to see Lake McKenzie. This is a giant freshwater lake in the middle of the island, which has crystal clear - and I mean crystal - waters and is set in a bowl of the whitest sand I have ever seen in my life. The lake is formed by seawater that has filtered through the sands of the island, those sands themselves entirely bleached of any mineral content, leaving almost pure silicon. And then, around that, tall green tropical forests carpet the ground to the horizon in all directions. Idyllic.

And then we drove home. I'd say more, but it was all an anticlimax after Lake McKenzie. It had only been a two-day trip, but I felt I'd been to another planet. I shall treasure my memories of Fraser Island.

I was picked up at Brisbane airport by cousin Jack, and I spent a quiet evening chatting with him and his lovely wife Val. The next day Jack took me to a public library after breakfast, and I used the internet there for free - hurrah! - before heading into town to catch a train out to Ipswich, where I caught up with Jamie again. I was going to spend Saturday night and Sunday lunchtime with him, then get the train back to Brissie, but he mentioned that he had to bring his car to a garage near Everton Park for a service on Monday, so I decided to stay until then.

On Saturday evening we went to listen to a local Eisteddfod (their singing competitions are clearly modelled on the traditional Welsh folk festival) where Danielle, the girl who helps in Jamie's shop on Saturdays, was singing. She was very good but narrowly missed out on winning her category, which is a shame because her younger sister Taylor won earlier in the day. We four adults (Danielle's mum Leighanne, her partner Jacqui, and Jamie & I) were ever so naughty, and bitching about all the other contestants! It's a good job we were sat down the back, where nobody could hear us. It felt like being back at school.

After the singing we all headed back to Leighanne & Jacqui's for pizza and drinks. The girls were being ever so cute (see my photo pages soon!) and their parents were very proud. We had a merry old evening, which was topped off by a night-time climb of the water tower nearest Jamie's house to see the lights of Goodna (his suburb of Ipswich; apparently it's an Aboriginal word for shit). There was a lovely moon and plenty of stars too, which augured well for the next day's weather.

On Sunday we headed out for breakfast, and that's when I realised I really was out in the sticks: everywhere we tried, they'd stopped serving brekkie at 10.30! On a Sunday! I ask you! In a big city they wouldn't even be starting to serve breakfast until 10.30! Ah well, this is good farming country, where people get up with the sun I suppose. We eventually found a bingo hall (!) that had a restaurant attached that was serving all day breakfasts. By this time it was turning into a seriously hot day. Luckily Jamie's MX5 was open-top, so I could work on that Queensland tan while we drove.

On the way back to Jamie's we pulled up at some traffic lights next to some friends of his. They invited us back to their place for coffee. They have a lovely Queenslander house, which is the traditional design in these parts: the wooden house is up on stilts to allow a cooling breeze to pass all around the house, which is a handy feature in these tropical climes. It reminded me a little of the fales in Fiji and Samoa, but they don't have windows whereas a Queenslander does.

In the afternoon we were thinking of driving to the beach, but we decided against it because Jamie's car was beginning to sound really quite unhealthy. There was a nasty whining whenever he took his foot off the accelerator, and the gear change was decidedly notchier than normal.

So we visited a lovely South African couple Jamie is friends with in Ipswich instead. Rose helps out in his shop sometimes, and Aubrey her husband reminded me of my German tutor at university - he had a snowy white goatee beard and a friendly manner. We drank white wine with ice cubes, which I haven't seen since I was in South Africa back in '03!

Later on we headed to a nearby botanical gardens where we saw three huge goannas, one of which was up a tree (they look like monitor lizards to me) and a big brown snake - apparently one of the most deadly snakes in the world, even though it looks fairly harmless.

That evening we drove into Brisbane's West End and stuffed our faces at an eat-as-much-as-is-physically-possible Japanese buffet restaurant. There were dozens of different sushi rolls, as well as hot food and fresh fruits for dessert - including, slightly bizarrely, halved tomatoes that seem to have been dipped in sugar water. After this huge feast we walked around looking at the shops in this funky studenty/backpackery part of town. I had to stop for an ouzo at a Greek taverna we passed because my stomach was so bloated, and I figured a schnapps-like beverage would help me feel better.

Then we headed to South Bank and met with Jamie's friend Cindy, who runs a shop selling imported furnishings and decorations from Indonesia as well as an Indonesian tea house. She took us to a nearby restaurant and we watched her eat dinner; there was no way I could even think of eating another bite. Jamie & Cindy used to work together, and they had lots to talk about with the current problems afflicting Australia's Customs service - they're turning container ships away from ports because their recently installed IT systems can't deal with existing workloads, let alone new stuff or the backlog that's developed during implementation - bloody computers!

Jamie wanted me to see the lights of Brisbane from the best vantage point in town, Mount Koot-tha. This is a hill just to the west of the city, from where you can see not only the CBD but also the length of the Brisbane valley heading inland towards Ipswich, and up into the Great Dividing Range to the west. It's a lovely spot, with a cafe and a restaurant too.

And then, just when I thought the evening was winding down, all hell broke loose in the car! There was a thud and a judder, and Jamie discovered he couldn't put the engine into gear. So we had to coast all the way down the mountain back into town. Luckily, Jamie's a member of the RACQ (the local breakdown service), but it being a Sunday night the service was terribly slow. We were sat at the side of the road for an hour waiting for the tow truck, and then we had another half hour's wait for a taxi (the car, sensibly enough, was to be towed straight to the garage, while we went back to Goodna). The first wait was tedious, but the second one wasn't so bad: the tow truck driver was an interesting chap, who breeds snakes in his spare time and was telling us all the juicy gossip in the tow truck trade. We finally got home at about 2 in the morning. Yeesh!

Monday was a bit frustrating. I was nearly catching the train lots of times, but then waiting to hear from the mechanic as to whether the car would be ready to be picked up today, in which case Jamie would get the train in with me, or perhaps Jamie would get a hire car (paid for by RACQ) and drive me anyway, but then what would he do with the car if his car suddenly was ready? Things like that. And the weather was not as fabulous as it had been all weekend either. In the end, I decided to take the train after all, so we walked the 20 minutes to the station. And then, conforming to Sod's Law, just after I got on the train and it pulled away, Jamie's mechanic rang to say his car was ready to be picked up! Damn it! I could have had company on the hour's journey instead of reading my book (yup, still War And Peace). Ah well.

At the other end, I quickly headed into the YHA shop and booked myself some more tourism for tomorrow - a trip to Fraser Island - then caught the train out to Mitchelton station, where Jack picked me up. I discovered that I had been a bit naughty: having told Val I would be home around lunchtime, my failure to call and let her know my whereabouts was cause for some concern as to my wellbeing. I am very touched that Val had become so protective of me in such a short time! Even though I'd never met Jack & Val in my life, I feel very close to both of them now. I love my family!

The next morning - it was Friday, my last day up north - after a restful night's sleep (there were only two of us in the room instead of the previous night's four), I took the free shuttle bus to Cairns and checked in to the YHA there. It was a blazing hot day, and I was in half a mind to just head to the sea and do nothing. But then my tourism head took over, and I booked myself a visit to the Tjapukai Aboriginal village and heritage centre for today and a trip up to the tablelands inland from Cairns on the Kuranda Scenic Railway & Skyrail for tomorrow.

Tjapukai was good in some ways but disappointing in others. There was a good documentary film on the history of the meeting of black and white in this part of the world, and a good half-live performance of some Aboriginal myths using a huge glass plate to project images into the actors' space. The other highlights were a didgeridoo performance by a guy in full Aboriginal costume, and lessons on how to throw boomerangs and Aboriginal spears (they have a sort of throwing handle that fits into the base of the spear, giving that extra bit of momentum from the swing of the wrist).

But there were bad points too. The buffet lunch was huge and varied, but sadly there were no Aboriginal dishes on it, just international stuff (miso soup, Chinese pork ribs, Indian curries, that sort of thing). And overall the "village" was pokey and mostly empty, with a few dudes and dudettes running around in costume but little interaction with visitors. And possibly the worst part of all was a tragic pop song that has been penned "in the tradition of our elders" - my arse! - the chorus of which was a particularly grating "Proud to be... Aborigine!" that I could hardly bear.

The best part of the visit for me, apart from meeting a nice Canadian couple from Ottawa (why are there always Canadians from Ottawa wherever I go in the world?), was in fact a fortuitous chat with a behind-the-scenes guy who was not dressed up. He was on a smoko (that's Aussie for cigarette break) and I just got chatting with him standing on the bridge that leads from the entrance and restaurant building, goes over a moat-type lake and into the village proper. He pointed out some interesting fauna & flora - they have turtles, eels and other fish in the lake, and there was a big pandanus tree with a monster fruit hanging on it - and it was just good to have a conversation with an Aboriginal person. I am not aware of having spoken to any in Victoria or New South Wales.

In the evening I went for a swim in Cairns' seafront lagoon. I was hoping to watch the sun go down from in the water, but there was too much cloud and in the end it got a bit chilly so I had a shower and went for a drink instead. I got chatting with a guy who lives up on the tablelands and was left by his wife many years ago. They each brought up one of their children, and the son this guy was caring for had some sort of exam on in Cairns today, so his dad was hanging around waiting to pick him up. He rarely comes to Cairns, he told me, and I could really tell that he wasn't a big city kind of guy. He reminded me of some of the people I've met in Melbourne who are from upstate Victoria. It's refreshing to get chatting with non-urbanites sometimes. (Wow, that sounds so haughty! I'm not trying to be ironic, honestly; I really like meeting people from all walks of life.)

After a few beers on the pier with that guy I was suddenly hungry, so I went along the Esplanade and found what I was looking for: a massive tuna steak. I polished that off in no time, and then went waddling down the roads at random, swaying slightly from the beers and the size of the meal. I happened to walk past a yoghurt bar that was offering free samples, and I got chatting with the girl who was handing them out. I've never seen a yoghurt bar before. It works along the same lines as Australia's ubiquitous gelati bars though, with a variety of pot sizes and a huge selection of flavours. I went with the macadamia nut honey one, which was delightful, and I agreed to sit at their pavement table and make encouraging noises for passers-by to be attracted in. For no fee!

The next few hours I spent online, before deciding to go out and meet some new folk. In one bar I got chatting with an English couple living in Sydney who were here on a short break. They were staying in a swanky hotel, because Graham could get a substantial discount through work - he is a travel agent. We got on well, and I will try to look them up when I'm in Sydney in a few weeks' time.

My last day in the Far North of Queensland was also an extremely touristy one. I was part of a group of five (two American ladies, an English couple and me) and together we caught the steam train out of Cairns and up the Kuranda valley (which had flat screen TVs with 'period' wooden surrounds that made you think they were static pictures until the video started), then the Skyrail rainforest gondola trip (which was totally cool and gave a unique above-canopy perspective on the rainforest).

We spent lunchtime in the village of Kuranda, which is a tourist trap par excellence full of tat shops. Apparently, it's famous for its hippie markets, but they were shut the day I was there. After lunch (I had a kangaroo pie that was actually unpleasant) we jumped back on the tour bus and our Brazilian driver took us to a liqueur producing estate (where I bought some delicious wasabi coated macadamia nuts), then to the Curtain Fig Tree (where it rained briefly in a rainforestesque way), then went for high tea at a crater lake (the English guy even went for a swim, but I didn't fancy that because it wasn't very warm weather), then headed back into Cairns.

From there I had a twenty-minute turnaround to catch the shuttle bus to the airport, and then I flew back to Brisbane. I was asleep for most of the flight, but I remember waking up and seeing an almighty thunderstorm tearing across the shore at around the level of Townsville. It was huge! So much lightning. It reminded me of the one I saw flying up from Jo'burg to Dubai that time back in '03... (God I love place-dropping!!)