Hervey Bay 

The Greyhound bus dropped us in Hervey Bay and we had a long walk to our hotel. Houses and small hotels lined one side of the Esplanade, and on the other side of the road was Shelly Bay, a walking path, park, and beach. I thought it was going to be about a 15 minute walk from the bus stop to the hotel, but it was at least 30 minutes, plus it felt even longer with the heat, the bags, and the audacity of the numbers on Hervey Bay’s Esplanade to be consecutive: 499, 500, 501… As in, “OMG, we still have to walk past another 45 houses!”

Our first hotel in Hervey Bay (Shelly Beach Motel) was clean, cozy with immaculate grounds and beautiful gardens. And we loved Debra, the kind hostess with a trim, tan, stylish look and a brisk, friendly manner. Our room had a balcony overlooking the Esplanade and the bay, and when we opened the doors we got a refreshing cross breeze. We sat on our balcony a lot over the next few days…watching the sandy beach part of our vacation get rained out. Those days in Hervey Bay were nothing but rain, rain, rain.

Shelly (and Snake-y!) Beach

Despite the rain and the heat and humidity during the rain’s breaks, we made a lot of walks—inevitably getting soaked from a new wave of rain, or sweat, or both. We took morning walks on Shelly Beach at dog walking hours and one morning there was a snake on the beach. I thought it was a stick, until it moved. Turns out, sea snakes are poisonous. Twenty-one of the worlds 25 deadliest snakes are found in Australia–and about 25 people are hospitalized in Hervey Bay every summer due to snakebites!  Bill Bryson’s “In a Sunburned Country” wasn’t wrong!  “Australia has more things that will kill you than anywhere else.”

We got to know the restaurant Santini’s along the Esplanade. Good Italian food at reasonable prices, but slow—sometimes perfunctory—service as it was always packed. It was here we were taught by a snappy waiter the Australian restaurant lingo:I 

• booking = reservation
• entree = appetizer
• main = entree
• organize your docket = get your check

”Here in Australia, with nothing to do.”  

We spent most of our time during that first stint in Hervey Bay listening to the rain, the birds, and the waves. We watched some movies, read some books, and talked a lot about our lives up to this point over cups of Nescafe and peanut butter sandwiches. We struggled with ourselves on these rainy days, joking ”Here in Australia, with nothing to do.”  Even on the other side of the world, on the trip-of-a-lifetime, it was way too easy to sit and watch TV. This boredom, laziness, sluggish fatigue for no-good-reason is terrifying. Ennui turns in me like a cement mixer, sometimes bubbling up as a cold terror of losing mobility, momentum, memory, and health and a burning frustration that I do nothing about it. As I went down that depressing rabbit hole of self-incrimination on a rainy day on the other side of the world, a bird whistled for me. So loud it startled me. Just there, sitting on the balcony railing, looking in the screen door to our room on a pouring rain afternoon, was a curious black and white bird. Again, she sang her tune. It sounded like a person whistling, loud. I leapt up, and then froze–trying to reach my phone or camera without startling her. She cocked her head sideways, looking back at me from not more than five feet away. Eye contact for a second, maybe two. And she was gone, and with it, my wet-blanket mood. My heart felt lighter. II googled “black and white singing bird Hervey Bay Australia” until I found a match…this was the Australian Pied Butcher Bird. I did eventually record one of the birds another day (listen below to the waves and a song):

We rallied, doing more rain-dodging walks. One morning, we walked all the way out on the long Urangan Pier. Just as we touched the end railing—a 1/2 mile into the bay—the rain came again. We were soaked by the time we got back to the Esplanade, but laughing and happy.

Hervey Bay:  Take 2

After Lady Elliot Island, we returned to a sunny Hervey Bay. It was a completely different place. We stayed up the road at Shelly Bay Hotel… which was more like an apartment with a full kitchen and an in-unit washer and dryer (thank goodness, because all our clothes felt beachy–sticky with lotions and sand and sea salt.)

On these days, we explored further around Hervey Bay. I bought a lightweight maxi dress for $29 AUS at the Australian Post Office–trying it on in the back room, surrounded by passport-making supplies and holiday decorations. Hervey Bay was at last without rain, but the shelly, orange beach lost something in comparison to what we knew was only an hour out there. We walked and walked, back and forth on the long beach. The hard sand feeling good on our bare feet, our shadows following and the birds singing.