From: "Pete" <[email protected]>
To: thegang
Subject: Another week another 400 kilometres
Date: 24 June 2001 09:56
Well, greetings once again from the land down under. Well I think I last wrote to you all while I was in Coff's Harbour so I guess I'd better pick up from there. Well, we set off with the car weighed down somewhat, with me having a $400 pokie win in my back pocket and Paul, a kiwi we met in Newcastle having been offered a lift after we discovered that he had actually travelled Newcastle to Coffs on the Bus on the same day as we had driven, and was intending to do the same thing on to Byron Bay. The drive to Byron Bay was fairly short in comparison to the distances that had been undertaken previously, but we found ourselves in sugarcane country for the first time and as such it felt more of an achievement. A quick stop in Ballina to admire The Big Prawn (which was marginally more impressive than The Big Banana, but not much.) and we were into Byron Bay around lunch time.
A relativly easy afternoon was undertaken with a gentle walk around town and along the beach before returnng to the hostel. The hostel in Byron was one of the best that we've stayed in. It had a courtyard type layout with the breakfast area on the balcony overlooking the heated swimming pool. The swimming pool was actually something of an enigma with a sign "Open 8am - 8pm" proving totally inaccurate as I dived onto the blue plasic cover that I had failed to notice through my bleary eyes before my nine am swim. Actual, as opposed to theoretical hours turned out to be 10 til 4 but I reasoned that since that sign was wrong I could ignore all the others and proceded to do so, putting a stop in my bedroom door and consuming alchohol on the premises after 10pm.
Actually as far as signs go, the hostel in Byron was also better than most, the tendency to overstate the obvious being resisted quite well. Actually the Coff's Harbour hostel had some of the best signs, "Please refrain from diving from the balcony into the pool, you may damage the pool", "Wash all sun lotion off before entering water, we do not want an oil slick!", "Smile this is a happy hostel!", and the somewhat bizarre "The hostel is clean after we clean it. If you want it to stay clean please keep it clean. We do clean it regularly though", being just a few that spring to mind. I've yet to come across a hostel that doesn't have one telling you to do your own washing up, in spite of the fact that this is usually directly above the three foot high pile of dirty dishes that some swine never bothered with. The classic has to be "Please refrain from defacing hostel signs" though.
Oh well, back to the tale. After returning to the hostel we met up with some more kiwis Eddy and Tracy, who I had first encountered on the night I won my 400 bucks (on a 1c machine I still can't believe it!). I ended up going with them for a night out at a place called 'Cheeky Monkey's' which, after a few dodgy negotiations at the door to get round the fact that it only had a restaurant license, turned out to be a pretty good place, in spite of the fact that it was full of drunken English backpackers.
The next day, it was undertaken that a road trip should be attempted by the five of us (Myself, Paul the kiwi, Paul the Aussie, Eddy and Tracy). So we all clambered into the now extremely overcrowded and overladen Ford Laser and headed for Nimbin, which as some of you might know is where the Australian Hippy movement went to die in 1973. It was an interesting place to say the least. Large numbers of groovy shops (including one with The Big Reefer suspended from the ceiling); a museum devoted to the history of the place (kind of disjointed and random but worth doing); an alternative energy centre, selling everything from composting toilets to wind turbines; at least ten people offering each of us dope; and plenty of what you might call 'local colour'. If you can describe twitching down the street eratically and then spending ten minutes trying to talk to God on a payphone that you haven't put any money in as colourful. I still have mixed thoughts about Nimbin. I like what they were trying to do (create a free place away from the rat race and conventions of society) but somehow, in spite of what the locals claim the number of highly visible heroin scars and serious nutcases seem to suggest that it isn't the wonderfully happy place it ought to be.
Still the scores were as follows:
Number of times offered weed: Pete - 7, the winner!(it must be the glazed expression!); Eddy - 5; Tracy -4; Paul the Aussie - 4; Paul the Kiwi - nil (his tidy clothes and short hair must have been too offputting, he was very disapointed though!). Number of Volkswagen Kombis spotted - 54 (group total). Number of Volkswagen Kombis spotted that were actually capable of going anywhere - apprx.20.
On the return trip we took a short diversion up to the Cape Byron Lighthouse, to take a look at the incredible views and stand on Australia's most easterly point. Oh well, only North, South and West to go.
The next day was taken up by a little shopping, me having decided I should spend my winnings on some half decent sunglasses before I frittered them all away on stuff like food and rent. I only spent $50 mind you, but still the most expensive pair I've ever bought. If I can make this the third pair in a row that wears out before I lose or break them then I might even buy some nice sunnies. I also bought a Surf hat with 'Byron Bay' on it. Then we went and posed on the beach to show off our new stuff. Unfortunatly there were too many beautiful people down there and I developed a complex and couldn't take off my shirt for fear of being laughed at (it's uncomfortably white and flabby under there).
The day after that was on to Surfer's Paradise, still three in number, and another short drive. The day was unfortunatly however essentially lost through the problem of Paul the Aussie, trying to renew his Western Australian Driver's License, whilst in Queensland, with only a Victorian address. In the end the reciept from the hostel was sufficient as 'proof' that he was currently residing in Queensland. His new Queensland License now has the address c/o Seaworld Drive, Southport (no number) printed on it. A trip to the casino that evening proved unfortunatly fruitless and restored all my previous distrust of the poker machine's. I'm still $390 bucks up though. Another day wandering the town, and then sitting on the beach was the order for the next day, albeit a different town and different beach from the last time. Paul the Kiwi was astounded at the difficulty he had purchasing a beach towel in a town that only exists because of the strip of sand that people come to sit on. Surfer's was more comfortable for me however, with the number of beautiful people still high, but balanced by middle aged parents who were at least as white, and even flabbier than I am.
So the next day was on to Brisbane, where we parted company (at least temporarily) with Paul the kiwi, found many wonderful signs that said things like, "No Left Turn", "No Right Turn", "No U-turn", and "No Entry", fairly frequently all posted at the same junction. I am now staying with the very kind noble and generous housesitter of my cousin Tam, who is actually in Edinburgh at the moment and will be no doubt pleased to hear (along with most of the Wearn family) that the possums are eating very well, in spite of her absence.
That brings us to today, which involved a trip up the river into Brisbane on the citycat (a great way to travel, smooth, fast and great views). A look at the overpriced and overcrowded Sunday Markets. A look at the Queensland Museum. Which was an excellent museum with an unusual mix of natural and political history. And then a wander around town.
So anyway, we'll be sticking around here for another couple of days and then hitting the road again. Destination yet to be decided upon.
Please reply and let me know how you are all getting
on.
No Worries!
Pete