Who says the French don't like Americans??

We had our first “spot of rain” since we’ve been here and the second morning on Hamilton Island wasn’t as sunny (or water-sport-friendly) as we had hoped. So after a quick (cold) snorkel, sting ray sighting, and one last dip in the Jacuzzi, we headed back to the mainland and continued our push north. Our time in the islands inspired us to listen to Robinson Crusoe which Jonathan happened to have on his ipod. For the first time on our trip we had some trouble finding a campground. We checked 5 places and not one had a spot. Without a nearby National Park (we are always able to access with the 4wd) we had to continue on the next town 60 miles away and got the last spot. We arrived after dark, made an excellent dinner and went to the “camp kitchen” to do our dishes. The camp kitchen was hopping! The kitchen was full of backpackers who are apparently in the area to do farm work (zucchini, pepper, and pumpkin picking - earning a little money before continuing their travels.) There were many from France (who stayed on one side of the kitchen) and another large group from Japan (who stayed on their own side). When it was discovered that we were Americans (our accents gave us away?) we were the hot commodity – apparently it’s not so common to meet Americans here (at least in the backpacking scene). We spent the evening chatting it up with some overzealous French backpackers and have a new best friend if we ever visit France. Jonathan was also hugged and kissed by said French guy too many times to count – Sarah was getting jealous. After a couple glasses of wine and well wishes to our new friends, we retired back to our camper to get ready for the next day.