We made a little detour to Lennox Head before entering Byron Bay. Steff heard that there was good surf here. It was the briefest of brief visits. We got out, walked over and bought a drink – in my case a yummy smoothie – looked at the beach, paced up and down a bit, got back in the car and went to Byron Bay. Strange I know but it was a nice stop to stretch our legs.
Mel and I needed the toilet before we went. I was on spider look-out duties. Now I am cool, calm and collected when it comes to entering places that might harbour the nasty critters but as soon as I see one I scream like a banshee. My attitude is, if I keep thinking I’m going to see one, the likelihood is I will see one or at least THINK that I see one. When I first arrived in Sydney I was jumping at everything. One time I walked down to reception without my glasses and shot to one side at the sight of a rock…a ROCK! All I saw was a blurry dark thing near my foot that shouldn’t be there. In my room I’d flinch at my own shadow lurking in the corner of my eye. I’d bat at my leg furiously even though the only thing that stroked my leg was my bed sheet. This got old very quickly. Instead, I just act all blasé.
Now Mel on the other hand is crazy. When she gets nervous or uncomfortable about something she reels off a list of questions. Since being in Australia Mel has become the encyclopedia of everything that can kill you here. I’d rather not know thanks! That lady does make me laugh. If I ever do get into a life or death situation Mel will be the first person I turn to. If I did get bitten by something I’d know approximately how long I had left to live.
*****
We stopped off at the tourist information place but the guy at his desk just pointed to the rack of leaflets every time we asked a question. Dick.
The nearest campsite we drove to was ridiculously expensive. It would be near enough the same price to stay in a hostel which is what we ended up doing. Thinking we’d be better off in a hostel rather than a campsite was very much an overestimation. For some reason, the facilities at a campsite are very well kept whereas in a hostel people don’t really give a shit. Don’t worry, I’m not turning into a snob. I know by now what to expect from a hostel but it is like a lucky dip. Sometimes you can pay an average price and get a fantastic place and other times you might pay more for a dive.
It only took us a couple of hours to decide that we’d only stay one night in Byron Bay. Cue gasps. I know, I know. Before we arrived I thought I’d want to stay a few days as I’d heard great things about this place. Perhaps we didn’t see the same Byron Bay as you guys but it just wasn’t our scene.
We didn’t leave without seeing the beach of course. Again, I was pretty underwhelmed. It didn’t look much different to all the other beaches I’d visited before. Steff tried out the surf and Mel and I dipped our feet in the sea. Mel came prepared with her bikini under her clothes. I didn’t think I’d go in the sea so didn’t have any bikini bottoms on. I felt a bit lonely on the beach and it was a piping hot day. Mel reassured me that my knickers look just like bikini bottoms and I should come in the sea anyway. I naively believed Mel and ran into the sea. So far so good. Nobody looked at me strangely so I assumed I’d gotten away with it.
Unfortunately I underestimated how powerful the waves were. Each time a wave crashed into me my knickers crept down my legs. Holy moly! One giant wave later and I’d flashed my snowy-white arse to a bunch of guys across from me. Arse…literally! Well it could have been worse I guess. The guys shot me a cheeky grin and I turned to Mel in horror. Clinging to my knickers for dear life, I waddled back to shore. I think that’s enough embarrassment for the day!
Steff wanted to take advantage of the good surf so walked further up the beach. After a while, Mel and I grew bored and went back to the hostel. We sat by the pool and chatted away about random rubbish to the annoyance of others. We got daggers from a couple of girls sat reading their books. Meh.
Time ticked on and there was no sign of Steff. Mel started to worry and hoped he hadn’t run into trouble whilst surfing. To be fair, he’s never normally more than an hour surfing. It’s hard work! Mel wanted to find him so we took the car and went back to the beach. We searched high and we searched low but SteffSteff had been out for over two hours. We had no choice but to head back to the hostel and hope that he was there. He wasn’t so we asked at reception if anyone had seen him. At first the receptionist had no clue but then she started waffling on about a guy waiting for a long time at reception with a surf board saying that he was looking for two girls. Ah-duh! Mel walked up the street towards the beach and was finally reunited with Steff. Phew!
It wasn’t the only stressor of the day. The Steffan Syndrome reappeared. After driving around like a maniac thinking of all the places he could have left his wallet, Steff eventually found it on the boot of the car. How the hell did it stay on there whilst he was tear-arsing around Byron Bay I don’t know! Like I said before, he’s a lucky one!
We were all famished and drained from the day that unfolded. I showered (one of the worst in Australia) and changed half-heartedly into whatever was nearest to me in my suitcase. Everyone around me was glammed up and wearing cute little dresses. I wasn’t bothered.
I’d say we hit the town but really the town hit us. It was buzzing with people of all varieties. Singers, guitar players, weed smokers, drunken idiots, hobos, dressy girls, surfer guys…and so on and so forth. It was a lot to take in. I guess there’s something for everyone in Byron Bay.
We settled on somewhere to eat then walked the streets for inspiration. The long drive here took it out on all of us and nobody was in the partying mood. I bought a cake, naturally, and Steff and Mel went into a nearby shop for a drink. Mel and I were in hysterics as Steff donned remnants of Mel’s lip gloss post-kiss. The guy at the counter looked at Steff as though he had two heads. The counter guy was a stern Aussie who looked like he would do the, “You call that a knife?” skit from Crocodile Dundee. A guy you wouldn’t want to mess with, let’s put it that way. It was refreshing not to be the butt of the joke for once. Good times.
Back at the hostel, we got chatting to a few of our roommates. Funny guys but difficult to carry a standard conversation with. Everything seemed to be about drink and weed. Because I Got High is definitely the theme tune to Nimbin, a nearby village, as well as Byron Bay.
*****
The next day we left pretty hastily for Surfers Paradise. Money was running low and we wanted to take in as much as we could before hitting Brisbane in the hope of finding work.
No comments:
Post a Comment