We started our hike to the tip – or so we though. We walked around the car park and, after three minutes, found ourselves back at the Landy.

“Did you see any signs to the tip?” Glen asked.

“No.”

“So where do we go?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, there’s a path over there. Let’s try that.”

The path was a hundred or so meters from where we stood now; an inconspicuous affair that didn’t give any indication that it lead to the tip but, then again, it didn’t say it didn’t. So we started the walk up, and were soon after presented with a sign confirming that we were indeed heading in the right direction.

“500 meters to The Tip,” Glen read. We continued on.

We came across another sign: “Frangipani Beach left, Tip or Cape York right”.

Following the path right, we emerged from the rainforest and continued over the rocky headland. On our left, the view over Frangipani Beach was sensational!

And then, there it was! The top of Australia! Right there in front of us! And there, just over there, was the sign from the pictures; “You are standing at the northernmost point of the Australian continent”!

We let the joy of the moment sink in. Admittedly, it didn’t take that long.

“Ok, time for a few photos.”

Like any good, God fearing tourists, we took up positions by the sign to give this spectacle the proper documentation on film. “Click.” “Click”. A few toothy-smiled photos, and then the beer came out.

“A toast to the tip,” Glen was saying as he handed me a beer.

We drank happily – the beer still cool from the eski it had been residing in that morning – and took time to stroll about the ending landform before us to admire the views. The current of the water-mass ahead – the Torres Strait – was notoriously strong, and it couldn’t have been more evident to us now. It flowed right to left at, well I don’t know how fast, but it was fast! There were a few tinnies out – small boats with equally small engines – and all were clearly struggling to negotiate the strait. Even though they were being propelled in a forwardly direction by their puny sized engines, they were almost moving backwards, and in some instances were moving backwards, because of the current. It was pretty wild.

We spent the rest of our day lazily lounging about on Frangipani Beach; swimming, sunbathing, and collecting shells washed up onto the very agreeably sandy beach. It was nice, after so much harried activity, to finally be able to take time out to relax and not worry about pushing on in a sort of scientific precision so as not to do something that would have us miss our target.