If it’s possible to get bored of beautiful beaches, good-looking people and a near-perfect weather record, Australia is the place to do it. If you think Thailand's up to the challenge, you are wrong. And Fiji? Hawaii? Even Brazil? Forget it, Australia has them beat: there are 2,500 sun-soaked, muscleman-thronged, BBQ-decked kilometres of beachfront to be dazzled by.

With just 10 weeks, we didn't have time to hang around. Flying into Cairns is a grim entree on Australia's mouth-watering menu. We found that it offered us little apart from a smattering of nightclubs and a backpacker population that rivals the town's own.

That said, it's the closest you'll get to the Great Barrier Reef. You'll pay through the nose for it - but what a reef it is. We escaped Cairns for the gorgeous Port Douglas, and within hours were cast out into the warm waters of the Pacific, aboard a turbo-charged catamaran with a band of attractive 20-something diving instructors, near-perfect equipment and an amazing buffet spread awaiting us at half-time, making it almost worth the trip without even getting in the water. But when you do, you won't regret it. Forget an underwater camera at your peril, and expect pruned fingers for the next month.

Steering clear of the teenage party boats, our next stop was a four-day trip around the Whitsundays - a vast and dazzling chain of islands with enough reef snorkelling, crystal clear water and white sun-soaked beaches to keep us entertained. Make sure you plan your trip so you're not there between December and March - it's jellyfish season and you'll feel like a right monkey wearing the all-in-one stinger suits.

Between here and Brisbane lies Fraser Island - largest sand island in the world and idyllic holiday paradise - or so you're led to believe. I'm nervous. Every day two ferries, loaded with jeeps, manned by packs of eight-strong 16-25-year-old Brits bomb from the port across the sand-dunes, scouting out places to pitch their tents, drink beer until they're sick and sing football chants at the top of their voices. Its unsupervised teenage carnage, and if you're not being run down by other jeeps, you're creeping through the bushes in the middle of the night trying to find somewhere to squat where the vicious dingoes can't attack you from behind. If you can handle three days of this - the standard package - you're a braver man than me. That said, the island is incomparably beautiful and will leave you reeling for days, if the sleepless nights didn't do it.

My personal highlight was the near-compulsory day-trip to Australia Zoo, founded by Steve Irwin's parents and now a theme park of animal enclosures and Irwin merchandise. Unfortunately, despite asking around, Bindi Irwin wasn't anywhere to be seen ("she's filming today"), and there were no hands bitten off by crocs during the enormous (and equally impersonal) Crocodile Show.

A brief hangover in (the misnamed) Surfer's Paradise dropped us on the shores of Byron Bay, a once tranquil, laid-back surfing village turned town-sized car-park for campervans. Despite being chased by a park warden who refused to let us sleep in our van on a quiet side-road, we whiled away our time here wandering the beaches that stretch on for days, taking surfing lessons (be prepared to be humiliated by the five-year-old Aussie kids who can stand up within 20 minutes of their first lesson) and hanging out with the hippie-kids who stick around in these parts for months.

Next came Sydney - after a stunning drive through dramatic sandstone gorges, we were swept through the city and across the famed Harbour Bridge. Prepare to concentrate less on the 6-laned road-bridge and more on the tiny, yet captivating, Opera House lurking on the banks of the harbour below. Finding somewhere to sleep in our van for free though, proved not so easy, least of all in a city. That said, an unusually accommodating hostel worker directed us to a little-known (and unpatrolled) car park at Clovelly Beach, perfect for a free night in the city, despite the presence of the car park's very active 'dogger' population for three nights.

Of course, Sydney's charmed with stunning beaches, in particular Bondi, but you're better off escaping the British tourists and heading for Coogee, enchanting with its boutiques and cafes, BBQ picnic area and spacious beach. If you're there over Christmas, don't miss the kitsch, yet utterly compelling, Coogee Carol show - a mini-festival of Christmas songs under the warm summer sun to remind you what you're not missing back home.

Australia has every facet of the backpacker market catered for, and could often feel over-priced accordingly. Come here from a developing country at your own risk - adjusting to the cost of living here is one of the toughest challenges you'll face. But with enough cash in your wallet, you can expect to be kept busy every day of the two to four months an average backpacker takes to tackle this section of the Australian circuit. Fond memories and good friends were invented here, so be sure to gorge yourself on this rich and fulfilling country.

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