“… The car ferry is cheaper, isn’t it?”
“Well, yeah, but you’d have to cross the bridge and then walk a fair distance to get ‘ere.”

I thanked the driver and clumsily got off the bus — with my backpack and the groceries in my hands, I was unable to turn around. The doors closed and the bus went on its way, to the Sealink ferry. The one we would not take.

We had just arrived from Cairns the same morning, where we had discovered the stifling heat of Northern Queensland — it was actually so hot that we had to stay hidden in the A/C at midday — and had a blast at scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef. We had reached Townsville, a small, sleepy town, on a shared ride with a French traveler on working holidays. She had dropped us at Woolworths so we could buy some food before heading to Magnetic Island.

The walk to the Fantasea car ferry was, indeed, as long as the driver had foretold; we were drenched in sweat when we finally arrived at the ticket counter. The smiling receptionist opened the windowpane to ask what tickets we wanted to buy, and, for a moment, we could not answer. We were mesmerized by the fresh breeze coming from her air-conditioned room.

The next ferry was departing an hour later; we hence had plenty of time to eat our sandwiches on the tables at disposal. When the cars were ready to board, we decided to try our luck and asked the drivers if they would give us a ride to Horseshoe Bay once on the island. None would.

It was only when we reached Magnetic Island, after an hour on the sea, that we were able to hitch a ride in an immense four-wheel drive to the other side of the island. The local driver genially dropped us at our camping site, and, finally, after more than seven months sleeping in cheap rooms all across Asia, we put up our almost-forgotten tent in a nice shady spot.