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Published: December 26th 2009
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Surfers
Not actually my group, but I assume we looked much the same. The surf camp was at a place called Woolgoolga, which was quite pleasing in a way since no-one seems to have heard of it. Finally, I was visiting a place on the East coast which wasn't a total cliche! It's just some small town out in the relative boondocks, fairly near to the more well known Coffs Harbour.
I got off at the bus stop (marked by a telegraph pole opposite a building with a statue of an elephant. Well of course) and was whisked away by minibus to 'Spot X', the site of the surf camp. I was told this was a secret location by people in the Byron Bay office, which does beg the question 'how come I saw it marked on road signs?' but never mind about that.
As I got to the camp in the afternoon there wasn't time to have any surfing lessons that day- instead I just got used to the camp itself and wandered along the beach for a bit before dinner and drinks in the evening.
The following day, however, promised to be a long one. I was booked for two surfing lessons and as I was leaving at the
Bandicoots
I forgot to mention these! On the second night I just came across a mother and baby bandicoot playing around in the camp, running about up and down trees and playing trapeze artists along a power cable. end of the day they were both in one day. The first started off with a quick bit of theory before going off to the beach and getting in the water. I started off a bit apprehensive as I wasn't convinced surfing would be my cup of tea. Since this was all part of a longer pre-booked trip and the surfing was included as part of that I just thought I would give it a go to show I'm willing to try new stuff.
Indeed at first I wasn't too taken with it. I seemed to spend ages just hanging around in the water not doing a whole lot although it was good when I eventually managed to catch a wave. The first few times I contented myself with just lying down on the board as the waves carried me up the beach. After a while I started trying to stand up, and failing miserably. But towards the end of the initial session I actually managed it! Sometimes I could even stand up and ride a wave all the way to the beach and step off the board, looking (in my head at least) extremely cool whilst doing so. I really got a rush of satisfaction each time I managed that. To my surprise, when the time came to get out of the water I would have been quite happy to stay in for longer.
There were a few hours between the two sessions (about two, two and a half, hours long each) which were filled with a bit of lunch and a bit of lying on the beach with a book.
For the second session the waves had picked up a bit and I felt almost as though I had lost ground- it took me a while to get back to the point where I could stand up on the board again. I had also picked up the annoying habit of veering to the left whenever I managed to catch a wave. With the help of the instructors I started trying to work on some of the aspects of surfing beyond not falling off instantly, such as being able to go in a straight line, and catching a wave on purpose, not just through fluke, and halfway through I was able to start standing up again. Again, when the session ended I hadn't quite had enough.
So all in all, a much better day than I was expecting. I could almost get into this surfing lark!
Sadly the day wasn't to end so well.
I was to catch a night bus to Sydney leaving at 12.25am which meant hanging around all evening before catching a cab out to the weird telegraph pole bus stop. So I was there reasonably early. And then it was late by half an hour. OK, I've gotten used to the Greyhounds being late all the time. An hour late. That's pretty annoying but not unprecedented. Two hours late. Getting pretty worried by now stuck out in the middle of nowhere on my own. After about two and a half hours a Greyhound coach actually turns up! It's not the service I am booked onto and he has no spaces for me, but just wanted to let me know that mine is running 4 hours behind due to a mechanical fault. OK that's pretty awful, but at least I have some information. So continuing further into the night (morning?) and desperately fighting off sleep, and even the cold, eventually 04:30am rolls around, and STILL no &!$%£ coach! Really worried and angry now. Has it been cancelled? Did I fall asleep and it went straight past? Such questions are going constantly through my mind until about ten to six in the morning, when finally a coach pulls up and the driver gets out. 'So...' I say 'Is this the twenty-five past midnight service to Sydney?' Looking meaningfully at the time. 'Yeah, I reckon it is' comes the wry and slightly embarrassed reply. Frankly I was too relieved to be angry at this point, and just piled into the coach to try and grab some sleep on the 10 hour journey.
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