Great Barrier Grief

Another glorious day in Cairns and we set off on our Great Barrier Reef Cruise. The boat was reputedly the fastest to the reef, which I was pleased about given my terrible habit of throwing up when I'm on one. Another bonus was the fact that it catered for snorkeling and scuba diving which meant Shin and I didn't have to book separate cruises to get what we wanted.

I sensibly took some of the anti-sea sickness tablets that were on offer and they seemed to serve me well. We got out to the reef and Sinead suited up in her anti-jellyfish outfit and headed out for a spot of snorkeling. I got tanked up for some scuba and set off. The Scuba guy had been running through a list of things we might see in the water - "turtles, clown fish, wasse and lots of Japanese" - surprise, surprise.

Annoyingly, the Scuba guys insisted on linking arms with everyone in the group. There were only five of us, but it still freaked me out. The old Japanese guy on my right kept doing breast-stroke arms and was getting dangerously close to my regulator. Then he'd let go of my arm to take some pictures and flap about frantically trying to get hold of my again. I was deliberately making my arm as inaccessible as possible and it turned into some kind of underwater Benny Hill sketch as he tried to catch up to me and link arms again.

Back on the boat we had a barbecue lunch and set off for our second reef spot. I decided to do a second dive for the bargain basement price of 17 quid. Knowing that I always feel less sick on deck than I do inside, I headed up to the sunbathers' area and set out my towel next to some girls wearing the tiniest thongs I've ever seen. They were all really brown and oiling themselves up. Still, with all my scuba and diving off the back of the boat I felt like Princess Di so I didn't mind lying next to the professional tan team too much.

Sinead joined me for a bit and said: "This is the life Lis. I feel like we're celebrities." "I know. I was just thinking I feel like Princess Di." "Ha ha. I feel like the paps should be taking pictures of me so readers back home can discuss my beach body."

My second dive was much better. The water was clearer, the colours more vibrant and I didn't have to hold anyone's arm. I saw some more clams but they weren't as big as the giant one in the Cook Islands, and I found Nemo. There were millions of them. I went up and did some snorkeling. Shin and I tried to take some pictures of each other under water, so we'll see how those turn out.

I headed back onto the boat so I could take up my position on the sun deck for the journey back home. The thong brigade hadn't moved - I think they must have been real celebrities. Anyway, it was roasting so I kept topping up my sun cream and I was glad when the boat started off for home and I got a bit of a cooling breeze. It was great. I was lying on a speedboat on the other side of the world, getting some sun, not feeling sick and being pleased with myself cause scuba counts as exercise. Total celebrity!

A Japanese woman wearing a leopard and zebra print kaftan (make your mind up hen) sat down beside me and started munching on a sandwich. It was really windy so every time she went to take a bit, some of it would fly out and hit me in the face. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said picking her tuna off my face. At first I didn't say anything and her apology was enough, but it happened another 2 times so I lost it and felt compelled to say: "Will you please get your sandwich under control!" Gross.

She eventually went back inside and left me food free, which I was pleased about. As the boat came back into the harbour, I got my stuff together and noticed the tops of my thighs were looking suspiciously pink. "Arggh! This is not a good sign." Needless to say, I spent that night with my legs covered in Solarcaine and wet towels. To make matters worse, every second advert on TV was about skin cancer. "Quick. Turn it over Shin. I can't bear to watch." Admittedly, I was feeling distinctly less like a celebrity after that.