04 Oct How to Lose a GoPro in Noosa
I was talked into adding a GoPro to my tourist toolkit by Rob, a guy who I met over breakfast during a recent stay in at Netanya Noosa Beachfront Resort, a fine hotel in the east coast of Australia. Rob was a selfie addict. He carried a GoPro camera with him everywhere he went, tucked away in his little backpack. Having spent a solid couple of days with him I became sucked in to the routine of whipping out a futuristic fisheye lens on the end of an extendable pole to be normal. Boys and their toys. People look at you in a new light when you announce you have a GoPro, which I believe has a lot to do with the presence of a selfie stick. It offers so much more than a panoramic view 18 inches beyond your normal reach; It is a weapon of command, is tells us this guy is in control of the show. A GoPro cameraman without a selfie stick is as futile and impotent as the magician without his wand, the lion tamer without his whip, the classical music conductor without his baton, or the man from Star Wars without his Light Sabre. It was decided. I needed a GoPro in my life as soon as possible so I nipped down to the electronic shop where Rob purchased his gadget to collect the very same model. Rob pointed out which extras to have. £350 in total, including selfie stick and memory card.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]
I joined a group of travellers staying at the hotel for a day at Sunshine Beach in Noosa, taking the GoPro with. It was the perfect time and backdrop for inspecting the full camera and video settings. I detached the selfie stick and walked with the GoPro camera into the shallow waters of the ocean, in order for us to shoot video footage of us playing catch with it. I threw the camera to a fellow traveller at short distance. Then signalled for it back, gently. Unfortunately, said traveller mistook the gesture ‘gently’ for ‘as far as you can in the froth of the waves’ and you can guess what happened next. I must have studied the comings and goings of the tide for miles for many hours following the disappearance of my one-day-old toy, eventually giving up hope. My suspicions were compounded by the lifeguard on duty who abruptly gave me ‘no flaming chance’, or words to that effect. Lifeguards: A+ at backstroke, D- at empathy. So like many a mafioso snitch, my first GoPro now sleeps with the fishes. I take satisfaction in the hope that Nemo, Free Willy, Sebastian and Ariel have discovered the camera in the depths of the ocean and are using it well to document their aquatic adventures. What a fantastic group selfie that would make. I walked a solemn walk back to the hotel, clutching an extendable pole that used to have some meaning in life.