Dingo aware on Fraser Island

I couldn't keep a straight face as the dingo awareness video rolled on. "Don't feed the dingoes. Don't look at the dingoes. Don't touch the dingoes." A dingo is basically a medium-sized dog that can be found in its most wild form on Fraser Island -- the place I was to camp with 10 strangers for three days. As we prepared to board the ferry over to the island off the east coast of Australia, I wasn't sure what to expect on the trip, but after a pair of extremely redundant dingo safety videos, I was officially dingo aware.

Our group was comprised of sisters from London -- Anabell and Rosie, best friends from Sweden -- Jutta and Viktoria, best friends from somewhere in England -- Alex and Aaron, an English threesome of friends -- Anrdea, Kayle, and Claire, Jodie from Canada, and finally, me.

"It's a hit or miss trip," the tour guide told me when I considered a camping trip to Fraser Island -- a trip either spoken very highly of or very lowly of from the travelers I've met. It all depends on the group.

There is no guide on the trip, just 11 strangers in a 4x4 driving on the beach -- the only form of road on the island. Since I can't drive a stickshift, I was forced to sit in the back with seven girls and drink boxed wine and Australian beer. We had no choice but to get to know one another, our knees smashed against one another's and our drinks constantly spilling on our neighbor's after every bump.

The group clicked right away. The Swedish girls taught us songs that made no sense to us, but we shouted them out anyway. Jutta kept us entertained with her never-ending game of "would you rather."

"Would you rather eat only coconut the rest of your life or be a dingo?" was one example that sticks out in my mind.

We stayed up talking on the beach until our eyes couldn't stay open, and awoke around sunrise to make breakfast each morning. It was a family in a way, everyone chipping in one way or another, washing dishes, setting up the tents, working the grill.

We swam in crystal clear lakes and climbed on steep cliffs to get a good view of the shark fins sticking out of the sea below. One afternoon was spent at the champagne pools -- natural swimming pools and hot tubs made from the ocean water splashing over the rocks. I told everyone I planned on building a house there someday. We agreed it could be the site of our reunion.

Clicking with strangers has been the foundation of my trip. I don't look at the other travelers as strangers anymore. I look at them as friends I haven't spoken to yet. I'm afraid when I arrive back home I will continue to invite people I don't know to eat dinner and watch sunsets, and they will look at me like I'm crazy. Travelers make up an amazing community, everyone is in the same boat, always looking to reach out to people a bit different then them, but similar in spirit.

Our group was known as the "Ay team" since Jodie spoke with a thick Canadian accent and we were group A according to the company we went with. At the beginning of the trip we were just 11 dingo-aware strangers. By the end of three days some of us had chosen to be dingoes, and others were destined to eat coconut the rest of their lives.