It's only 7 a.m. but I already feel sick to my stomach.
We've just finished loading up our massive Toyota jeep with camping equipment, backpacks and food for 9 people over the upcoming three days on Fraser Island.
Next we are corralled into a room and shown videos about all the horrible things that can (and will!) happen to us on the island if we don't obey all the rules. No driving on sand dunes. No using 4WD on pavement. No driving over 60 km/h. No feeding the dingoes. And on and on.
It's an awful lot of information to absorb in just 30 minutes. To make matters worse, I've been nominated as our group's first driver from the hostel to the ferry and then down the wild, sand roads of Fraser. It's my credit card that's been registered on the vehicle insurance form. This brings another rule: no speeding to and from the ferry. If we get a ticket from the police, it'll be issued directly to me.
So, I'm put behind the wheel and away we go. Keep in mind, this is only my second time ever driving in Australia and on the left-hand side of the road, and my first time ever driving a 4WD. Lucky me that I have the lives of eight passenger in my hands.
Koala's Hervey Bay, our hostel, has divided 27 backpackers into three groups of nine. Somehow, and I can only ponder why, I'm the sole male in my group. It's me, three German girls, two Irish girls, and three British girls. For some men this would be an incredible stroke of luck. For others, it is. . .not such a big deal.
Anyway, I'm the Official Boy of the group and that's the way it is. This means I not only get to do much of the driving, but also plenty of heavy lifting, packing and repacking the vehicle and. . . my favourite task. . . chasing dingoes away from the campsite at dinnertime! 
Driving on Fraser doesn't seem so bad at first. The roads are more like a loose gravel than full-on sand as we leave the barge landing. But within five minutes we are bouncing all over the place on a sandy laneway through the forest. It reminds me of driving down a very snowy street in the middle of a Canadian blizzard. Who says being from the Prairies doesn't pay after all?
The next couple of days bring their fair share of stories to tell. There was the road we got stuck on deep in the middle of the forest on our way to setting up camp the first night. We managed to get ourselves unstuck quickly, only to witness another car get stuck right after us. Much digging and car-pushing ensued as we helped the middle-aged man and his wife out of a jam. Somehow we made it to the campsite just as dusk set in. Phew.
The next day we get stuck on the beach. Again it is late in the afternoon, we are on our way to the campsite and high tide is quickly approaching. Water laps against the rear wheel well as we dig and push some more. Luckily, a group of Aussie fishermen stop and offer to tow us out. Being towed is technically against the long list of rules but then so is getting salt water anywhere on the undercarriage of the vehicle! We have no choice but to do it. It's literally sink or swim.
Just as the Aussies are about to tow us out, one of them had a look at our wheels. "Hey, this thing isn't in four-wheel drive," he said. "Hehehe, oops," I said sheepishly. It seems one of the other groups from the hostel decided to have a bit of fun with us by switching the wheels from 4WD to 2WD when we were away from the jeep (this can be done from the outside).
Don't worry, we got them back later for this.
Somehow me made it through both nights and days on the island and saw so many beautiful things. . . crystal clear freshwater lakes, strange sand formations, leaping lizzards, hungry dingoes. This was roughing it in the truest sense. And I wouldn't have had it any other way.
Beautiful sand formations along the eastern beaches of Fraser.
A few of the girls and I take a dip in the Champagne Pools. They are rockpools just next to the ocean that fill up at high tide. The crashing waves look like champagne overflowing from the bottle as the cork is opened. The water even bubbles like champagne when the big waves hit.
The Wreck of the Maheno: this ship crashed into Fraser's shores in 1935 due to gale force winds and a fierce storm. It hasn't been moved since. We visited it in the early morning when the skies were overcast and there was plenty of mist on the beach. Spooky, indeed.
Lake Mackenzie: arguably Fraser's favourite beach. The waters are crystal clear and clean as can be. An amazing way to wash off the filth of camping!
