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BUS PARTY!!!
The Northbounders live it up on the bus. Longnecks all round. Harlo!
Back on the blog again which doesn't seem like a bad idea in cold and wet Sydney. The main reason i actually decided to pop into the net cafe this time was to give my clothes a chance to dry before I brave the elements one more for the long walk back to Surrey Hills. But, I thought it was a good opportunity to update you all (as promised) on the last couple of weeks at surf camp.
On Monday 22/5 I boarded the Waves Surf Camp Bus at Central Station in Sydney with a group of 11 internationals and one other Aussie. I felt like I was letting our great nation down a little when I saw the disappointment on the punters' faces as they learnt that I was an Australian who had never surfed before - according to our international visitors Australians all started surfing since at the age of 3 and know by sight every single item of Australian flora and fauna. The latter you can get around by making things up (eg. "That's a Spotty Grey Winged Bird, found on the coast from Melbourne to Cape Byron" and "This is a Spikey Devil Brush
Simmo and the Demolition Man
There's not much of him but he always makes a big splash. This is me and Demo shortly after the dance-off that he comprehensively won with the oldest trick in the book - the worm. Plant. Be careful, it's poisonous"). Unfortunately surfing prowess is harder to fake so you can only lie about your abilities when you're 100km or further from the coast.
The northbound crew were a quality bunch. A real good mix of people from the UK, Holland and Canada. I became good mates with one of the blokes. He was your typical Aussie surfer. Curly blonde hair, sea shell necklaces, T-shirt and bare feet rain hail or shine. Then he opened his mouth, had the broadest Irish accent you'll ever hear and introduced himself as Seamus. Turns out he was a traveller who had grown sick and tired of people asking if he surfed so he did a surf class 2 months ago, caught the bug, bought a board and has surfed every day since. He was a good fellar with a great sense of humour and a real knack for pulling good chicks.
The instructors were great value as well. They lead pretty nomadic lives, pretty much following the sun, stopping for a while here and there to earn some cash as surf instructors or tour guides, then moving on. The head tour guide was Matty D. If Matt
Judging the surf comp on the final day of the Northbound trip
The tour finished with a surf comp at Yuragir National Park on the Friday. The comp was judged by Matty D (standing, cap and sunnies) and Demo (seated sunnies) and won by a crazy dutchman whose winning combo of switchfoot into forehand turn into unzip wetsuit into moon judges pretty much brought the house down. was any more laid back he'd be dead. He talks with the slowest surfy drawl you're ever likely to hear. When he's not running surf tours Matt spends his time surfing all around the world, judging pro comps and getting Indonesian fishermen to drop him and his mates on uninhabited islands with a hunting knife, basic food stuffs, water and a few gallons of rum, and pick them up 2 weeks later. Quality.
One of the other instructors was a bloke affectionately known as "Demolition Man", or Demo for short. He used to work as a demolition man and reliably informs me that this was his chosen career path because "I just love breakin' shit, eh." Demo pretty much does it all: break stuff, surf, snowboard, fish, rock-climb, abseil, martial arts, security, bar work and the rest. In the 8 days I spent with him he crashed a bus, caught some mad waves, broke 3 hearts, slammed my toe in the van door, danced like a maniac, got in a small brouhaha with a crazy dutchman, saved a Kookaburra that was stuck in a barbed wire fence, told about a thousand stories and broke the Guiness world record for
Just giving the punters what they want
On the DF, final night of southbound with (L to R) Laura, Nicky, Siobhan and Sara. Helping out at surf camp was a tough job, but someone had to do it. most words spoken in 8 days. But it's all in a week's work for the Demolition Man.
My surfing ability is a bit sketchy. I caught a handfull of good waves for the week but I did manage to learn a few things along the way:
1. Sitting on your board out the back of the breaks looking cool is a clever way that anyone can look like a surfer (although you do feel like shark bait).
2. Surfing with Dolphins is great, but surely God was taking the piss when he put shark-like fins on their backs?!?!
3. Pissing in your wetsuit is fantastic. It may sound a bit disgusting, but don't knock it till you try it coz there's no better way of warming yourself up - it's like you're own little spa bath in the ocean, especially if you pass wind at the same time.
4. Number 3 doesn't work when you do it in your sleeping bag in an attempt to warm yourself up at night.
Seriously though, the surfing itself was awesome. We were blessed with great weather, good instructors, beautiful, unspoilt beaches and great conditions surfing conditions.
Possibly the only negative of surf camp was that I spent a bit too much time with my shirt off and subsequently getting sunburnt following this conversation with a BLACK Dutch girl:
Dutchy: How come you're so white?
Simmo: Excuse me...?
Dutchy: I mean like, how can you live in Australia and not have a tan. Like, you're so white I can almost see through you.
Simmo:(tears in eyes, jaw shaking) Well it's not that bloody easy for some of us!
Surf camp nightlife was pretty quality consisting of drinking games, parties, joke sessions, campfires, bad dancing and frequent partial male and female nudity. At one stage one of the helpers, a hot Norwegian girl, managed to get all of the blokes' shirts off (hey, she had hers off, it was the least we could do...). In fact, that night was probably the first time I have ever danced topless on a table for free. Not even so much as one fiver stuck down the old bonds Y-fronts. Where's the justice in that?
Anyway, we arrived in Byron on the Friday night and headed out to the infamous Cheeky Monkeys. Given I was planning on heading back to Sydney at some stage in the next few weeks anyway I snagged myself a free trip back as a helper. Free food, accomodation, travel and surfing in return for stacking boards, packing the trailer, preparing lunch and washing a few dishes. Pretty sweet deal I thought. The southbound trip was great too. Another good bunch of people, great weather, good surfing conditions etc. Though I was lucky to make it back to Sydney after agreeing to drive the troopy back from the camp. It wasn't easy driving a big diesel 4x4 with no speedo, no side mirrors, no 1st gear and bald tyres along a highway for 3 hours and then through Sydney peak traffic for another hour. Lucky I had Demo next to me (he has no license at the moment - I think he dropped it in a puddle or something...) to chime in with the odd joke to keep me awake after 12 solid nights on the gas.
So now I'm back in miserable Sydney staying with Ange, an English girl I meet at the hostel last time I was hear. She's been great to stay with and does delightfully English things like sing Beatles songs, say "roobish" instead of "rubbish", drink lots of tea and sip on the odd mug of hot lemon and honey when she has the sniffles. She lives in Surrey Hills, just near Oxford Street - the epicentre of Australia's gay capital. I've had to cut the bum cheeks out of all my jeans and buy a pink cowboy hat just to fit in - I hope to rearrange my wardrobe before I head to Tamworth coz I hear that you're Tamworth Cowboy differs from your Oxford Street Urban Cowboy.
Stay safe, keep in touch and say hi to your mum for me.
Simmo.
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Hey rove, It must be a real inconvenience to cut the butt cheeks out of your jeans, then have to sew them back on your jeans to go to Tamworth, especially after all the effort you went to sewing them back on just before you left melbourne. I still cant believe the Dutch girl thought you had no tan, if only she knew!