I think I can genuinely call myself a seasoned traveller after yesterday’s flight. Having had a final coffee in our favourite bakery in Narrabri, we three clambered into Juliet Bravo (that’s our plane’s call sign) and set off for Hervey Bay. We were all transfixed (thank goodness for auto pilot) by the changing landscape below; from stunning mountains and forests to swathes of lush agricultural pastures; rivers winding through sections of rock. At one point Head of Entertainment (Mark) remarked there weren’t many places to land in case of emergency; it’s those sort of comments that makes a nervous flyer’s blood run cold.

But in all honesty, the time literally flew and ahead of us lay the extensive beaches of the Gold Coast. Looking at the empty sand and the rolling waves, it’s obvious why it’s called Surfers’ Paradise.

Captain Cockpit got us safely on the ground - it’s the first time he has handled the landing and, to be fair to Jonathan, you don’t get many gusts from the mountains or sea and lift from hot runways when you are touring the East Midlands. Picking up a trusty (we hope) 4WD, it was all aboard the Fraser Island ferry to the world’s largest sand island. Captain Cockpit lay on the bed congratulating himself; Head of Entertainment set off on a hike (of course he did - no takers from the Agnews!) and I found the laundry room and did a load of washing. See, it’s not all glamour!

We enjoyed some Aussie rosé watching another spectacular sunset from the jetty, while Head of Entertainment outlined the activities for Monday. He made it sound like a series of challenges for I’m a Celebrity.

An early start to miss the day trippers saw us negotiating very rough and ready sand tracks to the other side of the island where we joined 75 mile beach. What a thrill, racing up sand right on the edge of the water. The ocean on one side and the Red Canyon/Cathedral

Rocks and mile upon mile of stunning landscape on the other. Intrepid travellers were sparsely scattered camping in specially adapted 4WDs complete with sleeping platforms on top, or the full tent experience at the side.

Now I’m not faint hearted, but the thought of being a tasty meal for the local dingos just doesn’t appeal. The people of K’Gari, as it’s now known, take the threat of dingos as seriously as the threat of sharks.  There are signs everywhere warning what to do in case you come face to face with what are the purest breed of dingos in the world. Don’t walk alone; carry a large stick, stand together, don’t run and simply shout for help. I must admit to being just a tad disappointed we didn’t see even the twitch of a wongari’s tail from the safety of our vehicle.

The grand finale of “Mark’s Tours“ was Lake MacKenzie. A truly incredible jewel in the middle of the island the size of 3200 tennis courts . As warm as the Caribbean Sea, this gem is known as a perch lake. Yes, I had to look it up too. It means it has compressed sand and organic material at the bottom, is fed ONLY by rain water, and is so pure it doesn’t sustain plant or animal life. It was utterly glorious to laze on the silica sand and bob around in the water for a lazy hour or so.

So, lack of dingo spotting aside (I was so desperate to shout “ Bingo a Dingo”!) I can report that Fraser Island - or to give it its proper title K’Gali, meaning paradise - has truly lived up to its name .