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Published: November 9th 2007
VW Combi
Bryon Bay (at the 'Arts Factory')I apologize for the delay of this blog entry; my computer died a few days ago and subsequently erased the blog I'd been working on! Re-writing it has come as a timely cost amidst exams and traveling, but I'll do my best to remember what I wrote.
As promised, here is Mid-semester break Part II. (Also, the pictures are not exactly as well done as the others, without iPhoto my pics looks pretty lame, but you get the idea!)
Byron Bay
So surfing on the coast was a great time - but returning to civilization was not as much fun. Still, our accommodation for the few days following the Surfaris trip was the coolest place I've stayed at! 'The Arts Factory' - a converted commune that was formed as a product of the hippie counter-culture in the sixties - was home to some 500 residents that hailed from all over the world. There were mostly backpackers, but there were also quite a few oldies still rocking up in VW combis with long unwashed hair and shoeless. There was a pool, a double-decker bus converted to a bunk room, tepees, and all sorts of odd accommodations, but I ended
up in a standard bunk room. I’ll admit that having a mattress was nice after sleeping in a tent for a week!
A place like this could only be sustained by a place like Byron Bay. Apart from the commercialization that polluted some of the main street (signs littering the words 'ROXY' and 'BILLABONG' everywhere), the people and landscape were unscathed. Old cars with surfboards tied to their roofs were nearly everywhere; guys and girls walking casually with board shorts and bikinis lined the sidewalks; and a beach that stretched endlessly off into the horizon were just a few signatures of this town.
I parted from my Surfaris group - although my friend from school (Sean) remained - and I agreed to meet the German couple that I had met (Markus and Ari) in Melbourne at some point. Alison and Megan, two more girls from school, found their way to the 'Arts Factory' and we spent a few days lazing around the beaches, collecting souvenirs, and working on our tans.
Another unique attraction that Byron Bay offers is the town of Nimbin that lurks in the nearby mountains. Having a reputation as THE hippie town in Australia
(little Amsterdam, if you will), we decided it would be worth the $25 all-day bus tour that frequents the area. Alison, Sean and I boarded the 'Happy Coach' (streaked with rainbows) and prepared for the unexpected. Our bus driver was a loud, 30-something, dread-locked, joke-telling, crazy fella. He greeted each of us comically and assured us we were in for the ride of a lifetime. How right he would be.
We stopped off first at a Sunday market on the outskirts of Byron and picked up various gifts (I copped two hand-made Indian wall tapestries for dirt cheap) and kicked on, winding up treacherous roads to the far-off mountain town of Nimbin. Before we got there, our crazed driver drove us to a giant pole and stopped the bus. "This is Lismore,” then added brightly, “and that pole over there is 25 feet high." He pointed out a small marker near the top of the pole and said, "In 1997 the water level of Lismore reached that height." We all oooo'ed and ahhh'ed before he said, "In 2003 the pole was completely underwater." That's a lot of rain.
When we finally reached Nimbin everyone was giddy. Locals waved
to our bus, a woman was painting a store sign over a row of benches off the Main (and pretty much only) Street, and stores like "Bring-a-bong" and the "Hemp Cafe" dotted the sidewalks. Given only an hour and a half to explore, the three of us quickly found ourselves fending off hippies soliciting us with "Wanna buy some drugs?" We adamantly replied ‘no’ as we looked at their leathery faces, black decaying teeth, and the moth-eaten rags that draped their malnourished bodies.
Not everyone was a disgusting old hippie though. When we entered the museum there were gangsters. In a mountain town in Australia, I found gangsters - hustling. I think I've seen just about everything a man could possibly see in this lifetime!
Seriously though, Nimbin turned out to be one of the most interesting places I've ever been to. While the marijuana culture is all-too-apparent, the people are profoundly unique and self-sufficient. You won’t find a Starbucks or McDonalds anywhere NEAR this place. Alison and I never encountered such friendly and homely people - like the 60-something barista at the Hemp Cafe (which, by the way, won the "Best Coffee" award....in all of Europe and
Australia combined! I tried it, and I can attest it's true. Best coffee I've ever had - and no additives of ANY sort, if you know what I mean).
Still, we had our fill and felt the urge to rejoin Byron's lively atmosphere once we grew tired of being solicited by drug feigns. Back on the bus, our return trip began (I think those were clove cigarettes people were snuffing out before getting back on the bus…). Our driver cranked his sound system and we rolled out of town assuming that the ride back would be as pleasant and comfortable as the ride there. How wrong that assumption was…
The roads our dreadlocked Captain opted for were only slightly wider than the bus, bordered cliffs that dropped off endlessly to the earth below, wound down and around blind turns, and oh yeah: traffic was meant to go BOTH ways. With his foot heavy on the petal, Alison and I crept to the back of the bus and felt the pigment from our time spent at the beach wash away with intense fear. I have never been so afraid in my life!
We took frequent breaks to suck
in the scenery (granted it WAS gorgeous) but thoughts of hitchhiking back to avoid certain death started forming in me. Panic nearly consumed me…
All fear aside, we made it back to Byron, and I even managed to snag the MP3 CD that our crazed driver was blaring the whole frightful drive. Alison and I cooled off with some sushi and managed to laugh off what we thought may have been our last moments!
One thing I've become quite conscious of along this adventure is the willingness (and unwillingness) of others to travel. Some people are perfectly content just staying in one place and others (like me) MUST get out and explore. With more than a week to spare before having to face the chalkboards back at Macquarie, my classmates decided to go back to the monotony of the MUV and wait around. I retched at the thought and patiently waited for them to part back into that miserable atmosphere of school while making plans of my own. Fraser Island was one place that everyone kept telling me to check out, and with Mom and Dad's support, I managed to book a trip that left within the
Lake McKenzie
Fraser Island
day. I packed up my belongings, said g'bye to my retreating friends and boarded a bus (this time it was a coach, no dreadlocks) to the unknown. 10 hours later I was in the northern city of Hervey Bay, alone, exhausted, and hungry.
Fraser Island
Eight strangers, a Toyota 4x4, just enough supplies to last us three days and two nights, and a loose itinerary. This is how I started my second day in Hervey Bay and my first day on Fraser Island.
Speedy with introductions, I met the worldly group of people that I would be spending the weekend with. We were composed of a 26 year-old Irishman named Brian, his 26 year-old German girlfriend Vivian, another 27 year-old German named Anna, two 22 year-old Canadian guys named Matt and Chris, two 22 year-old English girls named Heather and Jeni, a 23 year-old Swiss girl named Anne….. and NO guide.
I had absolutely no idea what to expect, and not knowing anyone, nor having anyone to rely on within literally hundreds of miles, I was filled with the strangest, newest, and wildest form of excitement.
When we reached the island (via ferry), we
quickly noticed the overwhelming amount of sand (after all, it IS the biggest sand island in the world), and stopped off at the nearby Lake McKenzie. I apologize for the picture that I posted showing the lake - it does absolutely NO justice to the actual location!! Imagine the whitest beach you’ve ever walked on, the cleanest, most transparent water you’ve ever been in, and in the most remote location you could imagine. It was like jumping into a giant pool of bottled water! Even in the middle of the lake you could see the bottom….that was actually freaky. As I was swimming out to the middle I looked down and noticed a very large shadow swim directly beneath me!! Needless to say, I turned right back around and headed to the shore!
Although Lake McKenzie was gorgeous we still had other places to see on our itinerary. While en route to Fraser’s famous beach highway, we encountered some off-road traffic. Though it was extraordinary to see massive 4x4’s trekking across this vast desert landscape on narrow roads, all it took was one car to stop traffic. With the help of several dozen people, cars stuck in the deep
sand were eventually moved and we were on the beach highway soon after.
The beach was over 90 km (55 miles) long and ran parallel to the Pacific Ocean. Small engine planes landed unannounced as we hurtled down the unmarked territory, and fishermen lined the shores with buckets and tents nearby. I didn’t notice at first, but nobody was swimming in the water. Apparently the risk of shark attack was enormously large (Tiger sharks everywhere), but I wasn’t fortunate enough to see any!
We did, however, see the “Maheno” Shipwreck (a massive steam powered ship that washed on shore many years ago) as we cruised farther up the coast. That was neat.
I was a bit bummed that I was the youngest person in the 4x4 (meaning I was unable to drive!), but when we reached the campground my spirits were rectified. Run by two Aboriginal natives, our campground was the home to generations of Aboriginals that had managed to keep a spot on the island despite the growing tourism.
Dinka Dinka and Smiley were the two tribesmen who greeted me - or snuck up on me - while I was building a camp fire.
Dressed in shirts and shorts, the two guys struck up conversation and I was soon learning everything I could about their culture. It was fascinating. I won’t go in to too many details, but learning about a culture that has been around for 50,000 years - their rules, their rituals- was incredible. At one point Dinka ran off and returned with a map of Australia that was divided into the hundreds of Aboriginal tribes that existed before the ‘white-man’ took over the land. He made it clear that border crossing among tribesmen was a very serious deal. Similar to the way we have immigration laws, customs, passports, etc., the Aboriginals must gain permission before entering a new territory. Often traveling hundreds of miles on foot, whenever they come across a new border they are supposed to light a huge fire, gather gifts (i.e. dead animals) and wait. Eventually the two tribes would meet, and depending upon how the transaction goes, the travelers may or may not enter the territory. Very primitive stuff! After they left I ate dinner with the 8 other people I was traveling with. We sat around the campfire for a few hours sipping on Victoria Bitter
Beer and getting to know one another. Everyone had very interesting backgrounds! Anna, the German girl, told us about how she was raised in a commune in Germany and was an actual love-child! She had some very interesting experiences....!
When we got up on our second day it was bright and sunny, but the tides had come in and made our beach highway nearly impossible to drive on (without being washed into the great Pacific). We waited it out and eventually got back on track - heading out to Indian Point and climbing a large plateau that overlooked much of the island and the ocean. Right off the coast we could see a family of humpback whales flapping their tales!
Just as I was beginning to relish the impact of my newfound independence, I was tapped on the shoulder. Expecting to see somebody from my trip, I was instead greeted by three people that I met when I first arrived in Cairns! It was so great to see them, and what a surprise! They were all studying at UTS (another school in Sydney) and coincidentally ended up on the island touring around with a 4x4. I didn’t see
Lake Wabby
Fraser Island them the rest of my time on the island but my head was surely spinning.
We were exhausted after a day of hiking and swimming so we retreated to camp on our second night and built a huge campfire. Dinka Dinka showed me that Eucalyptus trees make an excellent natural bug-repellent, so I was climbing trees like a Koala ripping off branches and chucking them into our massive fire. It worked too, the mossies let us alone!
Once we ate from our diminishing supply of food the Aboriginals reappeared, only this time they were painted up in their tribal colors! They invited us to another campfire (one surrounded by 40-60 people), gave a brief history of their tribe, and an introduction to their performance. Using their voices, clap sticks, and stomping as hard as they could on the ground, the two tribesmen delivered an excellent performance. It was even under a full moon!
Sitting around the campfire a short while later I spotted two dingoes wandering the premises. Signs covered the island telling us to 'beware of the dingo'- but coming from the threat the bears and mountain lions in Colorado, it was hard not to laugh
Sand Jump
Lake Wabby (and think of Seinfeld).
Our final day on the island was my favorite. Not because we had to leave but because of what happened to us WHEN we left. A few kilometers down the beach (again washed with high tide) we came to a river crossing (see photo). Unsure how deep it was, we put our 4x4's snorkel to the test and sped through the brackish water as fast as we could! What a rush! (I managed to snap that photo just as another 4x4 entered the river).
We landed at Lake Wabby later that morning and were absolutely stunned. The beach was bigger than the lake! Clear and beautiful like Lake McKenzie, we spotted dozens of Catfish and turtles swimming near us once we ran down a massive sand dune into the ocean. The Irishman (Brian) and I walked out to the desert and got a sample of just how massive this sand island really was.
Not long after that and we were in line waiting for the ferry back to Hervey Bay. It was a few hours late, and as it turned out, the ferry that was supposed to pick us up had caught fire
Group Photo
Fraser Island on its way to the island! They were pushing 4x4s into the (shark infested) water and people were jumping overboard (yikes)!!
When another ferry picked us up the tide had gone out nearly all the way, so they half-loaded the ship and spent 45 minutes getting out of the mud. The excitement didn't stop there! Back at the hostel we were staying at, Brian and Vivian walked to their car and found their stuff had been ransacked - his wallet was stolen.
We checked into our dorm for one last night and I made it out to dinner with the two English girls and Canadian guys. Feeling awful about the car theft, I pooled money together from everyone on the trip and made a small donation to our new friends. They were pretty grateful!
Three days before, when I arrived in Hervey Bay, I knew nobody and was completely on my own. My last night there I was surrounded by new friends who I had experienced so much with in such little time!!
It was undoubtedly sad to see them go the next day, but where I was headed, my spirits were unsinkable.
Next stop: Melbourne and the Great Ocean Road.
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