When I stepped off the plane in Cairns, I was taken aback by the sweaty, fetid fug of humidity. Clearly, if Alice was desert heat, Cairns was to be jungle heat.
It wasn't until the next day when the sun was up, I realised Cairns is nestled in between a series of towering rainforest-covered slopes. But then again, it is in the Tropics. Like Lilt, it really is Totally Tropical.
And to prove it was raining. Oh boy, was it raining. Rain that would make your head bleed. Rain that would make Noah go "...oh no, not again" before nipping down Focus Do-It-All for some supplies.
Cloud here isn't so much low as at street level, and because Cairns is a doing place rather than a seeing place, travel agents peer out from amongst gaudy posters for diving courses, wondering when the torrential downpour will end.
And amongst the deluge, my camera decided to give up the ghost, so I spent the afternoon rushing round Cairns trying to find the one Sony accredited dealer on the edge of town. One discounted $30 fixing fee later, and back at the hostel I found that though it worked in the shop, the camera was broken again, my day had been wasted and it was too late to book any activity for the following day. Not that it would have been particularly pleasant in this end of the world weather.
A balls-up frankly. But never mind. Greyhound bus to Airlie tomorrow where I am hoping the weather will stay fine.