Memories of being 12...

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December 22nd 2011
Published: December 28th 2011
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My final day in Byron Bay and I thought I'd treat myself to breakfast out. Bored of toast in the hostel, so I wandered into town and around the shops. Bought a pressie or two with a 20 dollar note I had in my pocket but couldn't find anywhere where I wanted to eat - I think I was just in an indecisive mood. I knew I needed to get money out to pay for my hostel in Sydney tomorrow so stopped at a cash point on the way back.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! Where's my purse???? Deep breath, look through handbag-with-a-million-pockets again. Nothing. No trace. Heart's thumping - the last time I felt like this I'd lost a similar size/shape little purse aged about 12 on a walk into town to do some shopping for Mum. Then, my purse was returned to me by someone who tracked me down through my little name tape sewn in the inside, and the phone book. I fear I'm not going to be so lucky today.

Retraced my steps. Nothing. Back to the hostel and I'm in a full-on sweat - ripped out the contents of my locker, suitcase etc - nothing. So breathless I couldn't cry. Into reception, I asked the way to the Police Station. To which I got the following response - 'Not sure the police will be able to help you find this' at which point my little purse was brought from behind the counter. Apparently I'd dropped it by my locker before I even went into town, and someone had handed it in. Never have I been so happy to see anything, returned with its full contents.

I treated myself to a cold shower and a morning by the pool instead - food suddenly didn't matter. It's a raging hot day and Emma and I met up with a group travelling from Portsmouth who will be getting on the bus later tonight too. The Greyhound tonight is a 5-strong legion of coaches from Byron Bay, all fully booked, taking the backpacking masses to Sydney for Christmas. Estimated journey time 13 hours, overnight. We've all been given colour codes to help us to get on the right bus but somehow you still think it's going to be carnage - both in Byron and once in Sydney as all the buses will leave and arrive at the same time.

Highlight of the afternoon - George crashing through his sunlounger while trying to sunbathe. Less amusing to George who ended up with a foot long bruise and open cuts to his spine where the plastic lounger tore him to shreds...

And so it's bye to Byron - a much better place second time around, it turns out, and would definitely come back. At 8pm Emma and I headed early to our buses (fabulously organised with no hint of chaos) to grab the best seats (which we managed), and to bid farewell to each other as we're on different buses and living in different hostels. And then it was time to hit the road - next time I wake up I'll be in Sydney. At least that's what I'm hoping...


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