Wednesday 18th May
My alarm went off at 5:30am, causing me to stir, look out the window and see that it was still dark outside, and go back to sleep. I finally awoke at 6:30 and, the morning swim comprehensively overlooked, headed over to the food hall for breakfast. "Full" and "English" are two words that can never be combined without success (the exception to this rule is when the words are being mutilated by the BNP, but they're idiots and warrant no further thought) and today was no different. Sausage, bacon, egg and hash browns all made a welcome appearance on my plate this morning, followed closely by a strong black coffee. My morning ritual almost complete, I jumped in the shower and flung some clothes on and emerged from the room ready to rejoin the human race. Instead I settled for rejoining the tour group, and we set off on the next leg of our Fraser Island adventure.
The first stop on todays expedition was (Insert Name Here), a beautiful 2km treck through the island's rainforest. As usual Daniel and I lead from the rear of the group and arrived at the end of the trail about 10 minutes after everyone else, in our defence we were distracted by all the nature all over the place! From the track we walked along a boardwalk through the forest, seeing a few little kookaburras on the way, to our 4 wheel drive and then headed off to our next stop. We arrived at (Insert Name Here) Lake around 10am, after driving on some of the bumpiest track i've ever been on, and filtered out of the 4 wheel drive ready to plunge into the deeps. The water was phenomenally clear and cool, but not cold at all, and the colours were breathtaking; starting with the pure white of the sand and gradually fading into yellow, then green and finally into a dark blue towards the centre of the lake. We all splashed around for a while and messed about with a football, which was very entertaining. The lake was the last stop on the tour, so we headed back to the beach, ACDC blaring out, in the 4 wheel drive. Pretty much all that remained was to have a late lunch and then bid my very fond farewells to all the gang, Daniel especially as this was the end of our 2 and a half week travelling stint, but we have arranged to meet up when i'm in Europe next year and see what's Broing on.
Once everyone had left in the 4 wheel drive, Brisbane bound, I rolled over to the travel agents across the street to book my transport to, and accommodation in, Hervey Bay. All went smoothly until it was time for me to pay; their internet booking was on the fritz so I had to call up the bus company and book that way, which was not a problem. Unfortunately when the operator I was talking to tried to put my card through it just said to contactmy bank - worrying! This went on for another 15 minutes while I tried to figure it out, then I went to the computer and transferred some money between my English accounts so that I could try my other card. This done I called up the bus co. again, only to go through the whole rigmarole again to have my second card behave in exactly the same manner - bank contacting was suggested. In the end on of the guys at the travel agents suggested I try the other agents down the road and see if I could pay cash there. Finally my luck turned, when I arrived at Peterpan Travel they managed to get my ticket all booked up and, completely unprompted, the guy gave me $20 off my ticket price (Karmic balance is restored!).
So I hung around for a while at Rainbow Beach, in the hotel bar, watching Dances With Wolves on my laptop and drinking cappuccino - the ultimate combination, before jumping on my bus to Hervey Bay. I arrived in Hervey Bay at around 9pm and rolled over to my hostel and laid myself to rest nice and early.
Sunday 22 May 2011
Out of the frying pan and into the Fraser
Tuesday 17th May
Last night was hilarious; Daniel and I decided to grab an early one as we had to be up at 6am to catch our ride to Fraser Island, but we managed to convince two of the people in our room to go out and party on our behalf. It took a lot of ingenious peer pressure and speaking too fast for them to understand. When they got back at 3am they decided to wake us up and much laughter ensued, although i'm not sure the rest of the people in the room found it quite as funny - oops! When we woke up at 6 we discovered that, while we were sleeping, the two party-goers had hung our shoes of the walls and tied our towels to our beds. The pranks were well received by us, despite the early rise, and we reacted in kind by hanging their shoes of the lights; our comical way of saying goodbye. We managed to get lost again on our way to the meeting point for our tour, and when we called up the tour guide it was only to discover he was standing on the other side of the road.
We left Brisbane at 7am and made our way north, stopping briefly for lunch and a coffee, and eventually arrived at rainbow bay at around 11am. We had a brief stop to admire the view of the beach and then hopped on a ferry to take us over to the island. The tour started off with some casual belting it down the beach in a 4 wheel drive. Before we even reached the first stop we were lucky enough to see a dingo roaming along the beach (apparently the last two tours the guide had taken out hadn't seen any at all) and several photos were taken. We stopped for lunch by the dripping rocks, where the rocky landmass, dripping with water, met the beach. It was cold subway sandwiches on the menu, and they have never tasted so good! After lunch we journeyed onwards,ever north until we reached Eli Creek, where we were able to walk along a boardwalk, following the water upstream, taking pictures all the while, and then Daniel and I walked back to the beach in the creek itself. The water was incredible; not cold at all and clearer than the stuff you get coming out of your taps. After the creek we headed onwards to Indian Head, so named because when Captain Cook was busy discovering Australia he looked up at the head and, seeing aboriginals standing at the edge, mistook them for Indians and named the head accordingly. There were stunning views along the coastline and the weather was wonderful, allowing for, you guessed it, more fab picture oppourtunities. From the head we followed our tracks back to the shipwreck, the name of which eludes me, which was being towed to Japan to be used for scrap metal when the tow line broke and the ship ended up being beached on the shore of Fraser Island.
From the wreck we headed to Eurong, where we would be staying for the night. The room was lovely and once we had showered, in order toremove some of the sand, and dressed we headed over for dinner. The menu consisted of all you can eat mexican food, which bordered on the sublime, with chocolate cake for dessert. Dinner was followed by a brief spate of "Fuck, Paper, Scissors" with the fellow roommates, before heading over to the beach bar for a few drinks and some extremely vigourous table football. All in all it was a fantastic day on Fraser, and I can't wait for tomorrow, although it will be sad as well as it will be the last day of my travels with Daniel (ma Danish Boi - still not gangster enough to pull that off) as he is heading back down to Brisbane,while I continue my foray north. Anywho I must away to bed as I'm getting up in 5 hours for a swim before breakfast. Nighty night.
Last night was hilarious; Daniel and I decided to grab an early one as we had to be up at 6am to catch our ride to Fraser Island, but we managed to convince two of the people in our room to go out and party on our behalf. It took a lot of ingenious peer pressure and speaking too fast for them to understand. When they got back at 3am they decided to wake us up and much laughter ensued, although i'm not sure the rest of the people in the room found it quite as funny - oops! When we woke up at 6 we discovered that, while we were sleeping, the two party-goers had hung our shoes of the walls and tied our towels to our beds. The pranks were well received by us, despite the early rise, and we reacted in kind by hanging their shoes of the lights; our comical way of saying goodbye. We managed to get lost again on our way to the meeting point for our tour, and when we called up the tour guide it was only to discover he was standing on the other side of the road.
We left Brisbane at 7am and made our way north, stopping briefly for lunch and a coffee, and eventually arrived at rainbow bay at around 11am. We had a brief stop to admire the view of the beach and then hopped on a ferry to take us over to the island. The tour started off with some casual belting it down the beach in a 4 wheel drive. Before we even reached the first stop we were lucky enough to see a dingo roaming along the beach (apparently the last two tours the guide had taken out hadn't seen any at all) and several photos were taken. We stopped for lunch by the dripping rocks, where the rocky landmass, dripping with water, met the beach. It was cold subway sandwiches on the menu, and they have never tasted so good! After lunch we journeyed onwards,ever north until we reached Eli Creek, where we were able to walk along a boardwalk, following the water upstream, taking pictures all the while, and then Daniel and I walked back to the beach in the creek itself. The water was incredible; not cold at all and clearer than the stuff you get coming out of your taps. After the creek we headed onwards to Indian Head, so named because when Captain Cook was busy discovering Australia he looked up at the head and, seeing aboriginals standing at the edge, mistook them for Indians and named the head accordingly. There were stunning views along the coastline and the weather was wonderful, allowing for, you guessed it, more fab picture oppourtunities. From the head we followed our tracks back to the shipwreck, the name of which eludes me, which was being towed to Japan to be used for scrap metal when the tow line broke and the ship ended up being beached on the shore of Fraser Island.
From the wreck we headed to Eurong, where we would be staying for the night. The room was lovely and once we had showered, in order toremove some of the sand, and dressed we headed over for dinner. The menu consisted of all you can eat mexican food, which bordered on the sublime, with chocolate cake for dessert. Dinner was followed by a brief spate of "Fuck, Paper, Scissors" with the fellow roommates, before heading over to the beach bar for a few drinks and some extremely vigourous table football. All in all it was a fantastic day on Fraser, and I can't wait for tomorrow, although it will be sad as well as it will be the last day of my travels with Daniel (ma Danish Boi - still not gangster enough to pull that off) as he is heading back down to Brisbane,while I continue my foray north. Anywho I must away to bed as I'm getting up in 5 hours for a swim before breakfast. Nighty night.
What can I say?
Monday 16th May
A fairly straight forward one today; took a couple of pictures around Brisbane, a minor sunbathe occured, and then chicken sandwiches and a slice of travel journal. And that oh best beloveds, brings us up to date.
A fairly straight forward one today; took a couple of pictures around Brisbane, a minor sunbathe occured, and then chicken sandwiches and a slice of travel journal. And that oh best beloveds, brings us up to date.
Bris-bane of my existence
Sunday 15th May
Ben dropped us off at the train station around lunch and we made our way into Brisbane, arriving around 130pm. For some reason, when we arrived, I decided that I would be able to navigate our way to the hostel using only the memory of what i'd seen on google maps and the position of the sun - WRONG! Despite getting thoroughly lost, we had a good laugh as I was given 15 minutes to find the place, so it was a race against the clock; kind of like our very own version of The Amazing Race. Eventually we actually looked at the map and found our way to Woodduck Backpackers. The hostel is nice, if a little simple. Brisbane on the other hand is duller than scuffed dirt; We went into town to meet a guy we had met in the hostel in surfers paradise, and headed to a few bars, all of which were frequented by maybe six people. In light of this we decided to call it a night and arranged to meet a couple of days later as we were all on the same tour to Fraser Island.
Ben dropped us off at the train station around lunch and we made our way into Brisbane, arriving around 130pm. For some reason, when we arrived, I decided that I would be able to navigate our way to the hostel using only the memory of what i'd seen on google maps and the position of the sun - WRONG! Despite getting thoroughly lost, we had a good laugh as I was given 15 minutes to find the place, so it was a race against the clock; kind of like our very own version of The Amazing Race. Eventually we actually looked at the map and found our way to Woodduck Backpackers. The hostel is nice, if a little simple. Brisbane on the other hand is duller than scuffed dirt; We went into town to meet a guy we had met in the hostel in surfers paradise, and headed to a few bars, all of which were frequented by maybe six people. In light of this we decided to call it a night and arranged to meet a couple of days later as we were all on the same tour to Fraser Island.
Coomera is where it's at-lantic salmon
Friday 13th/14th May
Good old uncle Ben opened up the doors to his abode to Daniel and me for two nights, which was absolutely brill. We slept in real, actual, people beds and ate proper, homemade, people food; Atlantic salmon on the first night and ham and pea soup on the second. We also watched all of the Indiana Jones films (I'm not including the fourth one in this but, come on, who would?) and Ben a I enjoyed a lot of witty back and forth.
Good old uncle Ben opened up the doors to his abode to Daniel and me for two nights, which was absolutely brill. We slept in real, actual, people beds and ate proper, homemade, people food; Atlantic salmon on the first night and ham and pea soup on the second. We also watched all of the Indiana Jones films (I'm not including the fourth one in this but, come on, who would?) and Ben a I enjoyed a lot of witty back and forth.
A day with the Danish
Thursday 12th May
Today Daniel and I were to be heading down to Coolongatta for the day and night, before heading back up to Coomera for a couple of nights with my Uncle Ben. Unfortunately it turned out we were far to lazy to manage that, and we ended up staying in Surfers' Paradise for another day and went to visit the Currumbin wildlife sanctuary. I think we went to the sanctuary a little bit late as most of the animals seemed to be asleep out of sight, but we did get to feed the kangaroos and wallabees, have a picture with a baby crocodile and watch some aboriginal dancing, so the day was still a success.
Today Daniel and I were to be heading down to Coolongatta for the day and night, before heading back up to Coomera for a couple of nights with my Uncle Ben. Unfortunately it turned out we were far to lazy to manage that, and we ended up staying in Surfers' Paradise for another day and went to visit the Currumbin wildlife sanctuary. I think we went to the sanctuary a little bit late as most of the animals seemed to be asleep out of sight, but we did get to feed the kangaroos and wallabees, have a picture with a baby crocodile and watch some aboriginal dancing, so the day was still a success.
Brief but memorable
Wednesday 11th May
Much of the same yet again really, beach action followed by lunch. In the evening we all decided to repeat what had been a winning formula, and head down to the beach with some goon. There were a few more of us this evening; instead of the 5 we had the previous evening, we were a group of 9, and as such decided to buy 4 boxes of goon (that's around 18 litres of wine). We all played the newly created drinking game; "Fuck, Paper, Scissors." We had a hilarious time on the beach and then headed into town, which was less fun but still a good time was had.
Much of the same yet again really, beach action followed by lunch. In the evening we all decided to repeat what had been a winning formula, and head down to the beach with some goon. There were a few more of us this evening; instead of the 5 we had the previous evening, we were a group of 9, and as such decided to buy 4 boxes of goon (that's around 18 litres of wine). We all played the newly created drinking game; "Fuck, Paper, Scissors." We had a hilarious time on the beach and then headed into town, which was less fun but still a good time was had.
Beach boys and beach bums
Tuesday 10th May
After convincing John to join me in a quick jump in the pool, which was absolutely freezing, but also the best way to cure a hangover I have ever known, it was time for a nice healthy breakfast of fried egg and avaocado on toast. Then where else to go but the beach? We had a another little sunbathe and a general chill before heading back to the hostel, via woolworths to pick up a roast chook and some laughing cow, and huge chicken and stuffing sandwiches while everyone else at the hostel enjoyed their 2 minute noodles. There was another hostel event set for the evening, with everyone heading to a bar named The Beer Garden, so we decided to get some drinks before heading down with the rest of the hostel. Unfortunately you weren't allowed to bring your own alcohol into the hostel because tehy had their own licensed bar, so we got around that by buying some goon and drinking it on the beach - Classy! While on the beach we decided to play some drinking games, the only problem being that we didn't have any cards or dice - problem! So a new drinking game was created, borne of the hearts and minds of the people. We called it "Fuck, paper, scissors."Daniel, James (The Californian), Ashton, Emmy and I headed back to the hostel after that to meet up with everyone before going to the beer garden. It was a pretty cool club, with a massive dancefloor, and we ended up dancing the night away (Even James who had recently broken his ankle - oops!). The results were huge amounts of very stupid photos being taken and much fun had by all.
After convincing John to join me in a quick jump in the pool, which was absolutely freezing, but also the best way to cure a hangover I have ever known, it was time for a nice healthy breakfast of fried egg and avaocado on toast. Then where else to go but the beach? We had a another little sunbathe and a general chill before heading back to the hostel, via woolworths to pick up a roast chook and some laughing cow, and huge chicken and stuffing sandwiches while everyone else at the hostel enjoyed their 2 minute noodles. There was another hostel event set for the evening, with everyone heading to a bar named The Beer Garden, so we decided to get some drinks before heading down with the rest of the hostel. Unfortunately you weren't allowed to bring your own alcohol into the hostel because tehy had their own licensed bar, so we got around that by buying some goon and drinking it on the beach - Classy! While on the beach we decided to play some drinking games, the only problem being that we didn't have any cards or dice - problem! So a new drinking game was created, borne of the hearts and minds of the people. We called it "Fuck, paper, scissors."Daniel, James (The Californian), Ashton, Emmy and I headed back to the hostel after that to meet up with everyone before going to the beer garden. It was a pretty cool club, with a massive dancefloor, and we ended up dancing the night away (Even James who had recently broken his ankle - oops!). The results were huge amounts of very stupid photos being taken and much fun had by all.
Inactivity breeds in a nest built of lethargy
Monday 9th May
I got up late again today, a definite pattern that has been emerging over this trip, and enjoyed a late breakfast before hopping on the coach to Surfers Paradise. There was a big old gang of us leaving for Surfers on the same bus; Florence and her friend Maeva, Daniel, who I met in Port macquarie, Henri, a French guy from the hostel in Newcastle and 3 girls from England who just called me 'Cambridge'. I managed to sway public opinion so that we all ended up heading to the same hostel as well, so we ended up descending on Backpackers in Paradise en masse. I met a great bunch of people in my room, there were two Canadian sisters, an English couple who had been in Byron Bay, John, who was my roommate in Byron bay but had left the day before me and an English girl called Emmy. We went to the beach for the day (what a surpirse) and then in evening played drinking games. Most of the group were going out into town on the hostels pub crawl, but I decided to stay at the hostel and have a recovery night, so Instead Florence and I watched a movie and grabbed a relatively early night.
I got up late again today, a definite pattern that has been emerging over this trip, and enjoyed a late breakfast before hopping on the coach to Surfers Paradise. There was a big old gang of us leaving for Surfers on the same bus; Florence and her friend Maeva, Daniel, who I met in Port macquarie, Henri, a French guy from the hostel in Newcastle and 3 girls from England who just called me 'Cambridge'. I managed to sway public opinion so that we all ended up heading to the same hostel as well, so we ended up descending on Backpackers in Paradise en masse. I met a great bunch of people in my room, there were two Canadian sisters, an English couple who had been in Byron Bay, John, who was my roommate in Byron bay but had left the day before me and an English girl called Emmy. We went to the beach for the day (what a surpirse) and then in evening played drinking games. Most of the group were going out into town on the hostels pub crawl, but I decided to stay at the hostel and have a recovery night, so Instead Florence and I watched a movie and grabbed a relatively early night.
The Swiss-French owl fever
Sunday 8th May
Much the same today as before, with a day spent on the beach, although a few of the guys and I made the treck out to the lighthouse and even had a few pictures of the most easterly point in Australia, which had some stunning views, but also highlighted the fact that I need to cut out the whole smoking thing after climbing about 20 steps. After completing my exercise for the month I returned to the hostel to jump in the hot tub yet again, then grabbed some lunch and went to check on Florence, who had developed a killer fever. We were palnning to grab some food from the shops and cook a big dinner to share that night, but in the end we were too lazy and dominoes pizza ended up on the menu. I also ended up having a bottle of wine with dinner, by which I mean I had the entire bottle (so much for my night off drinking). After dinner a few of us curled up in Florence's bed and watched a movie on my laptop, it was a wierd animated one about owls but it turned out to be a hoot.
Much the same today as before, with a day spent on the beach, although a few of the guys and I made the treck out to the lighthouse and even had a few pictures of the most easterly point in Australia, which had some stunning views, but also highlighted the fact that I need to cut out the whole smoking thing after climbing about 20 steps. After completing my exercise for the month I returned to the hostel to jump in the hot tub yet again, then grabbed some lunch and went to check on Florence, who had developed a killer fever. We were palnning to grab some food from the shops and cook a big dinner to share that night, but in the end we were too lazy and dominoes pizza ended up on the menu. I also ended up having a bottle of wine with dinner, by which I mean I had the entire bottle (so much for my night off drinking). After dinner a few of us curled up in Florence's bed and watched a movie on my laptop, it was a wierd animated one about owls but it turned out to be a hoot.
Chuck a chook at your chums and chow down
Saturday 7th May
A little bit of a later rise today, which may have had something to do with the alcohol imbibed the previous night, but I soon managed to quiet the associated drum solo taking place in my head by jumping in the hostels hot tub and having a shower; a pattern that I unfortunately had to repeat every morning while in byron bay. Once the hangover had been suitably subdued I headed to the beach with a few guys from the hostel, via woolworths to grab a hot chicken, some laughing cow and a breadstick, and had chicken and stuffing sandwiches overlooking the sea. After another day of sunbathing, because I can't allow myself to be less tanned than my friends when I get back to England, we all headed back to the hostel to chill out for a while before dinner. We all went to a club called cheeky monkey for dinner, as they were doing a $5 feed deal; Dinner and a free drink for $5, plus we won a load of free drinks by being the hostel that made the most noise. There was also a jenga set on every table, so we ended up playing while we drank, with surprising success. After dinner we all headed back to the hostel to play some drinking games in the rooms, the result of which was red wine all over the bedroom floor and even on my bed, which went very nicely with the sand it was already covered in. After the drinking games a few of us headed back to cheeky monkey for more drinks and a ridiculous amount of dancing. Afterwards we all headed back to the hostel and I ended up talking in reception with Florence till the small hours of the morning.
A little bit of a later rise today, which may have had something to do with the alcohol imbibed the previous night, but I soon managed to quiet the associated drum solo taking place in my head by jumping in the hostels hot tub and having a shower; a pattern that I unfortunately had to repeat every morning while in byron bay. Once the hangover had been suitably subdued I headed to the beach with a few guys from the hostel, via woolworths to grab a hot chicken, some laughing cow and a breadstick, and had chicken and stuffing sandwiches overlooking the sea. After another day of sunbathing, because I can't allow myself to be less tanned than my friends when I get back to England, we all headed back to the hostel to chill out for a while before dinner. We all went to a club called cheeky monkey for dinner, as they were doing a $5 feed deal; Dinner and a free drink for $5, plus we won a load of free drinks by being the hostel that made the most noise. There was also a jenga set on every table, so we ended up playing while we drank, with surprising success. After dinner we all headed back to the hostel to play some drinking games in the rooms, the result of which was red wine all over the bedroom floor and even on my bed, which went very nicely with the sand it was already covered in. After the drinking games a few of us headed back to cheeky monkey for more drinks and a ridiculous amount of dancing. Afterwards we all headed back to the hostel and I ended up talking in reception with Florence till the small hours of the morning.
Lord Byron
Friday 6th May
Ashton and I arrived in Byron bay at around 6am and, assuming that the hostel's reception wouldn't open until around 9, headed to a cafe for breakfast. It was in this cafe that I had possibly the best bacon and egg roll I have ever encountered, with fresh spinach, aoli and relish on a soft muffin. While enjoying this epic brekky I also used the cafe's free internet and discovered that Nomads, the hostel at which we were to reside, had a 24 hour reception. So, breakfast having come to and end, we popped across the road to our new home for the next few nights. When we reached reception our rooms were still not ready, which was to be expected as most hostels don't have book in until around 11am and it was still well before 7am, so we dumped our bags and chilled on the sofas around reception, where I promptly fell asleep for the next hour. I awoke to a sympathetic face asking me if I was waiting to be booked into a room and, after a minute of figuring out where, who and what I was, replied that I was indeed waiting for a room. As luck would have it the sympathetic recepetionist had managed to get our rooms prepared and we were able to check into them by around 8 o'clock.
Ashton and I were in separate rooms so we went our separate ways with plans to meet after considerable napping. Oddly enough when I got into my room, and in sight of my bed, I no longer felt tired; I assumed the coffee from breakfast was just kicking in, and so got changed and headed down to the beach for a morning stroll and to check out what I would, undoubtably, be spending most of the next three days lying on. The weather was fantastic and the surfers were out in for, heading to the sea like clams lead by the walrus. I walked down to the end of the beach, where there was a lookout back along the coastline, and took a few pictures, including one of myself involving some very precarious balancing of my camera on a rock.
Shortly afterwards I met up with Ashton and Janna, one of the girls from port Macquarie who was also in Byron Bay, and we had a lovely first day at the beach. While we were down at the beach inspiration struck and I, for no apparent reason, decided to design a tattoo in the sand, and got so engrossed in it that I spent almost an hour on it before completion. That night we all went on the pub crawl that had been arranged by the hostel, and by we I mean a few of the guys from my room, the Port Macquarie gang, Ben, a guy I had met in Sydney, and a few others that I had met that day. It was a fab night with much drinking of the accursed 'Goon' followed by much drinking of pretty much anything that seemed to be floating past. I met a Swiss girl that night called Florence and became immediately distracted by the fact that she spoke French, which appears to be my Kryptonite. Towards the tail end of the night I went down to the beach with a few people to consume some of the alcohol we had left at the hostel and then, taking half of the beach with me, returned to the hostel and bed.
Ashton and I arrived in Byron bay at around 6am and, assuming that the hostel's reception wouldn't open until around 9, headed to a cafe for breakfast. It was in this cafe that I had possibly the best bacon and egg roll I have ever encountered, with fresh spinach, aoli and relish on a soft muffin. While enjoying this epic brekky I also used the cafe's free internet and discovered that Nomads, the hostel at which we were to reside, had a 24 hour reception. So, breakfast having come to and end, we popped across the road to our new home for the next few nights. When we reached reception our rooms were still not ready, which was to be expected as most hostels don't have book in until around 11am and it was still well before 7am, so we dumped our bags and chilled on the sofas around reception, where I promptly fell asleep for the next hour. I awoke to a sympathetic face asking me if I was waiting to be booked into a room and, after a minute of figuring out where, who and what I was, replied that I was indeed waiting for a room. As luck would have it the sympathetic recepetionist had managed to get our rooms prepared and we were able to check into them by around 8 o'clock.
Ashton and I were in separate rooms so we went our separate ways with plans to meet after considerable napping. Oddly enough when I got into my room, and in sight of my bed, I no longer felt tired; I assumed the coffee from breakfast was just kicking in, and so got changed and headed down to the beach for a morning stroll and to check out what I would, undoubtably, be spending most of the next three days lying on. The weather was fantastic and the surfers were out in for, heading to the sea like clams lead by the walrus. I walked down to the end of the beach, where there was a lookout back along the coastline, and took a few pictures, including one of myself involving some very precarious balancing of my camera on a rock.
Shortly afterwards I met up with Ashton and Janna, one of the girls from port Macquarie who was also in Byron Bay, and we had a lovely first day at the beach. While we were down at the beach inspiration struck and I, for no apparent reason, decided to design a tattoo in the sand, and got so engrossed in it that I spent almost an hour on it before completion. That night we all went on the pub crawl that had been arranged by the hostel, and by we I mean a few of the guys from my room, the Port Macquarie gang, Ben, a guy I had met in Sydney, and a few others that I had met that day. It was a fab night with much drinking of the accursed 'Goon' followed by much drinking of pretty much anything that seemed to be floating past. I met a Swiss girl that night called Florence and became immediately distracted by the fact that she spoke French, which appears to be my Kryptonite. Towards the tail end of the night I went down to the beach with a few people to consume some of the alcohol we had left at the hostel and then, taking half of the beach with me, returned to the hostel and bed.
Ode to a grumpy old Aussie
Thursday 5th May
Port Macquarie was amazing! I arrived at the hostel, Ozzie Pozzie, at around 7pm and paid for my room. While I was getting sorted I heard a "You must be Dave then." From the table outside, this is how I met Phil, an old guy who worked at the hostel and had met my sister when she'd been there a week or so earlier, and had been forewarned of my arrival. He was a great character, your classic grumpy old man. He was also a compulsive liar and caught me out more times than i'd like to mention, the worst occasion being when he told me I was playing ping-pong with a left handed paddle and it took me a good thirty seconds berfore I realised he was pulling my leg. He also spent the next four days trying to steal my thongs and screw them to the roof of the smoking area, as he had a habit of doing to stray thongs. basically Phil was awesome!
That first night I joined a few of the guys at the hostel in a game of shithead, racking up a pretty impressive losing streak, and some mild drinking. There was Brad, Anika, Harley, Ashton, Dan and myself, and we soon became good pals.
The next day we all headed to the beach for a bit of a swim and a surf, during which I managed to garner another minor injury (as I seem to do every time I go near a board). That night we all hung at the hostel and played drinking games over a ridiculous amount of pizza. We also met a few new faces including a Canadian guy that was the spitting image of Michael Buble! We played a game called aussie roulette which is ever so simple and ever so vicious and then a lot of drunken ping pong took place.
Tuesday was another beach day with the guys, although this time we just went to the beach closest to the hostel with a couple of new found friends, including an English girl called Ana. We hung out for most of the day and had a lot of fun laughing at Ana and Anika while they battled to keep their bikinis on under the onslought of the waves. That night we hung out and watched telly at the hostel and met Teresa and Janna, a couple of german girls travelling up the east coast.
Wednesday was yet another beach day with a bit of surfing thrown in again, and yet more battles with bikinis, this time for Teresa and Janna. In the afternoon Ashton, the german girls and I went to the koala sanctuary and saw all the little furry guys hanging around being absurdly cute. The guide was a funny little American lady who looked just like a koala herself, and gained my eternal respect for referencing Blinky Bill (Legend!).
That night Brad the chef made everyone a huge roast Chicken dinner with peas, carrots, pumpkin potatoes and gravy; It was phenomenal! After my body had recovered from the shock of eating real people food, as opposed to my staple diet of noodles, we all went to Brad's pad, as he was living in 'The Villa', and played (you guessed it) more drinking games. I also joined in with some of Brad's fellow villa residents in a bit of drunken guitar playing, although my already less than impressive jamming skills were somewhat hampered by the amount of goon. Janna was leaving at 1am so we walked her to the bus stop to say goodbye, only to return to find Brad passed out.
Thursday morning rolled around and Brad, who couldn't remember the latter stages of the previous evening, and I went for a 2 hour kyaking trip at 10am, which was wicked but incredibly tiring when coupled with a hangover, and discovered that I am terrible at steering a kyak. Then all that was left to do was pack the bags and chill, my train would be at 1030pm in Wauchope (Don't pronounce it how it looks, It's War-hope, and saying it the other way gets you very funny looks from people at Country Link information desks).
I got to Wauchope at about 530pm with Ashton, who is also heading to Byron Bay, and spent the last 4 hours in what is possibly the dullest place in australia. I am now sitting at the train station waiting to move on to better and brighter things, with many people to reconnect with in Byron bay. Now I just need the weather to be as good as it has been in Port Macquarie - I'm almost tanned again!
Port Macquarie was amazing! I arrived at the hostel, Ozzie Pozzie, at around 7pm and paid for my room. While I was getting sorted I heard a "You must be Dave then." From the table outside, this is how I met Phil, an old guy who worked at the hostel and had met my sister when she'd been there a week or so earlier, and had been forewarned of my arrival. He was a great character, your classic grumpy old man. He was also a compulsive liar and caught me out more times than i'd like to mention, the worst occasion being when he told me I was playing ping-pong with a left handed paddle and it took me a good thirty seconds berfore I realised he was pulling my leg. He also spent the next four days trying to steal my thongs and screw them to the roof of the smoking area, as he had a habit of doing to stray thongs. basically Phil was awesome!
That first night I joined a few of the guys at the hostel in a game of shithead, racking up a pretty impressive losing streak, and some mild drinking. There was Brad, Anika, Harley, Ashton, Dan and myself, and we soon became good pals.
The next day we all headed to the beach for a bit of a swim and a surf, during which I managed to garner another minor injury (as I seem to do every time I go near a board). That night we all hung at the hostel and played drinking games over a ridiculous amount of pizza. We also met a few new faces including a Canadian guy that was the spitting image of Michael Buble! We played a game called aussie roulette which is ever so simple and ever so vicious and then a lot of drunken ping pong took place.
Tuesday was another beach day with the guys, although this time we just went to the beach closest to the hostel with a couple of new found friends, including an English girl called Ana. We hung out for most of the day and had a lot of fun laughing at Ana and Anika while they battled to keep their bikinis on under the onslought of the waves. That night we hung out and watched telly at the hostel and met Teresa and Janna, a couple of german girls travelling up the east coast.
Wednesday was yet another beach day with a bit of surfing thrown in again, and yet more battles with bikinis, this time for Teresa and Janna. In the afternoon Ashton, the german girls and I went to the koala sanctuary and saw all the little furry guys hanging around being absurdly cute. The guide was a funny little American lady who looked just like a koala herself, and gained my eternal respect for referencing Blinky Bill (Legend!).
That night Brad the chef made everyone a huge roast Chicken dinner with peas, carrots, pumpkin potatoes and gravy; It was phenomenal! After my body had recovered from the shock of eating real people food, as opposed to my staple diet of noodles, we all went to Brad's pad, as he was living in 'The Villa', and played (you guessed it) more drinking games. I also joined in with some of Brad's fellow villa residents in a bit of drunken guitar playing, although my already less than impressive jamming skills were somewhat hampered by the amount of goon. Janna was leaving at 1am so we walked her to the bus stop to say goodbye, only to return to find Brad passed out.
Thursday morning rolled around and Brad, who couldn't remember the latter stages of the previous evening, and I went for a 2 hour kyaking trip at 10am, which was wicked but incredibly tiring when coupled with a hangover, and discovered that I am terrible at steering a kyak. Then all that was left to do was pack the bags and chill, my train would be at 1030pm in Wauchope (Don't pronounce it how it looks, It's War-hope, and saying it the other way gets you very funny looks from people at Country Link information desks).
I got to Wauchope at about 530pm with Ashton, who is also heading to Byron Bay, and spent the last 4 hours in what is possibly the dullest place in australia. I am now sitting at the train station waiting to move on to better and brighter things, with many people to reconnect with in Byron bay. Now I just need the weather to be as good as it has been in Port Macquarie - I'm almost tanned again!
May on the move
Sunday 1st May
As the new month has decided to rear it ugly head I have decided that I should combat its arrival with some sort of resolution. That is to say I am going to try adn quit smoking again. This does not relate to the events of the past few days and is merely the result of finding myself without any tobacco related products.
To return to the purpose of recounting my travels; I arrived in Wickham, the train station closest to my hostel, at around 7 in the evening, after having discovered on the train that the number I had for the hostel was, in fact, for use only on a landline. This meant that I was in the same position as when I arrived in Sydney; being that I had no way of contacting my hostel and no clue upon which street it even lay. I decided to trust what I like to think of as my innate sense of direction to guide me to my temporary abode, and feeling only minorly dispirited, journeyed forth in what I felt to be a southern-esque direction. After trying, and failing, to hail several taxis, I found myself outside a BP garage and decided that an innate sense of direction was a fine thing, but would provide accomodation for the night. So pride, coming as it did before a fall, put aside I asked the attendant at the BP for the name of the road and the number for a taxi. He wished me well and I emerged from the garage with a new sense of purpose and absolutely no trace of surprise at the fact that it had started raining. After a decent period of standing in the rain my taxi arrived and, fortunately, the driver knew where the hostel was located, thus rendering my complete lack of information a mere trifling nuisance. I arrived at the hostel only to be told by the owner that the BP station was in fact just around the corner and almost visible from the hostel. Score one for the innate sense of direction. Less points, however, on the side of being a wily traveller, as the cabbie charged me $10 for the completely unnecessary mystery tour he took me on en-route to the hostel.
The hostel seemed great, although the general population were all glued to the royal wedding on channel 7. Fortunately two English girls arrive shortly after I and we immediately excercised our right, as British nationals, to mercilessly mock the royal family. After that it was an early night as I had ambitions towards waves and the riding thereupon the next day.
I arose early, to glorious sunshine, and jumped on a computer to check the surf forecast for newcastle. The forecast looked hopeful, if a little out of my league, with predicted 3 meter waves. The serendipitous nature of my surfing plans seemed assured when my French roomate checked in, longboard in tow, and decided to join me for a surf, despite the fact the weather had taken a turn for the worse and, as I had become used to over the last week, proceeded to precipitate all over the place. Our hopes were, alas, all for nought as, after enquiring at reception about board hire, we were informed that the beaches had been closed as the waves were too dangerous. Downtrodden and downhearted we went for a smoke and chat and agreed that a movie would be the best remedy to this dissapointment. So Henri and I watched one of the obviously pirated films available at the hostel, after which I retired to bed for a read, only to wake up 4 hours later at 7pm.
That evening I joined the rest of the gang at the hostel in a game of pictionary and the customary consumtion of goon before falling away to my bed ready to journey the promise land of Port Macquarie, that my thirst for surfing be slaked.
I now reside upon the train, half way to Port Maquarie and short one towel, left hanging up by the pool. Fortunately it's microfibre counterpart yet resides in an auxilary pocket of my pack. On this note I shall leave you, dearest ones, to cogitate on what may lie ahead for this intrepid nomad, no longer inert.
As the new month has decided to rear it ugly head I have decided that I should combat its arrival with some sort of resolution. That is to say I am going to try adn quit smoking again. This does not relate to the events of the past few days and is merely the result of finding myself without any tobacco related products.
To return to the purpose of recounting my travels; I arrived in Wickham, the train station closest to my hostel, at around 7 in the evening, after having discovered on the train that the number I had for the hostel was, in fact, for use only on a landline. This meant that I was in the same position as when I arrived in Sydney; being that I had no way of contacting my hostel and no clue upon which street it even lay. I decided to trust what I like to think of as my innate sense of direction to guide me to my temporary abode, and feeling only minorly dispirited, journeyed forth in what I felt to be a southern-esque direction. After trying, and failing, to hail several taxis, I found myself outside a BP garage and decided that an innate sense of direction was a fine thing, but would provide accomodation for the night. So pride, coming as it did before a fall, put aside I asked the attendant at the BP for the name of the road and the number for a taxi. He wished me well and I emerged from the garage with a new sense of purpose and absolutely no trace of surprise at the fact that it had started raining. After a decent period of standing in the rain my taxi arrived and, fortunately, the driver knew where the hostel was located, thus rendering my complete lack of information a mere trifling nuisance. I arrived at the hostel only to be told by the owner that the BP station was in fact just around the corner and almost visible from the hostel. Score one for the innate sense of direction. Less points, however, on the side of being a wily traveller, as the cabbie charged me $10 for the completely unnecessary mystery tour he took me on en-route to the hostel.
The hostel seemed great, although the general population were all glued to the royal wedding on channel 7. Fortunately two English girls arrive shortly after I and we immediately excercised our right, as British nationals, to mercilessly mock the royal family. After that it was an early night as I had ambitions towards waves and the riding thereupon the next day.
I arose early, to glorious sunshine, and jumped on a computer to check the surf forecast for newcastle. The forecast looked hopeful, if a little out of my league, with predicted 3 meter waves. The serendipitous nature of my surfing plans seemed assured when my French roomate checked in, longboard in tow, and decided to join me for a surf, despite the fact the weather had taken a turn for the worse and, as I had become used to over the last week, proceeded to precipitate all over the place. Our hopes were, alas, all for nought as, after enquiring at reception about board hire, we were informed that the beaches had been closed as the waves were too dangerous. Downtrodden and downhearted we went for a smoke and chat and agreed that a movie would be the best remedy to this dissapointment. So Henri and I watched one of the obviously pirated films available at the hostel, after which I retired to bed for a read, only to wake up 4 hours later at 7pm.
That evening I joined the rest of the gang at the hostel in a game of pictionary and the customary consumtion of goon before falling away to my bed ready to journey the promise land of Port Macquarie, that my thirst for surfing be slaked.
I now reside upon the train, half way to Port Maquarie and short one towel, left hanging up by the pool. Fortunately it's microfibre counterpart yet resides in an auxilary pocket of my pack. On this note I shall leave you, dearest ones, to cogitate on what may lie ahead for this intrepid nomad, no longer inert.
Much ado about no worries
Friday 29th April
Thursay morning rolled around and I managed to tear myself out of bed by 11am for my last round of fried eggs and avocado on toast, pretty much my staple diet for this trip. I did nothing until about 1pm then headed to Bondi, with a couple of my roommates, for my last surf in Sydney. The waves were ridiculous, with big sudden swells right where it was shallow so that, on more than one occasion, I got all excited when I started to catch a wave only to have my board nose dive into the sand sending me in much the same direction. In one of these optimistic tumbles I managed to fall off in front of my board, which was then hurled at me by the wave I was trying to catch and resulting in one of the fins taking a chunk out of my foot. So it was with bloody foot and toothy grin that I abandoned the surf for home, so that I could get dinner before going to see Much Ado About Nothing that night.
I arrived at Sydney Opera House in high spirits and with 10 minutes to spare, which is just as well as I didn't have a clue where to pick up my tickets from. After being directed the the box office, being told I was at the wrong box office (indeed entirely the wrong part of the opera house), I finally found a man willing to bestow my ticket upon me and headed into the 'Drama Studio'.
The show was well performed and, of course, Benedict was absolutely hilarious, however I felt that it was too comical an interpretation of the play. Despite it being a play with a large amount of comedy in it, there are also several scenes of more tragic nature which were not portrayed as well as they could have been. It was an enjoyable performance all the same, and definitely worth it for the experience of having seen a performance at the Sydney Opera House.
The next day I fell prey to the 9 hour time difference with England as I got up ridiculously early so that I could skype with my friend Katy. After that I had breakfast and packed my bags ready to leave Sydney for Newcastle. I am now on the train and awaiting arrival at the next stop on my adventure, fortunately it's only a two and a half hour journey and i'll be there in tiem for dinner, most likely followed by some heavy drinking, it is Friday afterall.
Thursay morning rolled around and I managed to tear myself out of bed by 11am for my last round of fried eggs and avocado on toast, pretty much my staple diet for this trip. I did nothing until about 1pm then headed to Bondi, with a couple of my roommates, for my last surf in Sydney. The waves were ridiculous, with big sudden swells right where it was shallow so that, on more than one occasion, I got all excited when I started to catch a wave only to have my board nose dive into the sand sending me in much the same direction. In one of these optimistic tumbles I managed to fall off in front of my board, which was then hurled at me by the wave I was trying to catch and resulting in one of the fins taking a chunk out of my foot. So it was with bloody foot and toothy grin that I abandoned the surf for home, so that I could get dinner before going to see Much Ado About Nothing that night.
I arrived at Sydney Opera House in high spirits and with 10 minutes to spare, which is just as well as I didn't have a clue where to pick up my tickets from. After being directed the the box office, being told I was at the wrong box office (indeed entirely the wrong part of the opera house), I finally found a man willing to bestow my ticket upon me and headed into the 'Drama Studio'.
The show was well performed and, of course, Benedict was absolutely hilarious, however I felt that it was too comical an interpretation of the play. Despite it being a play with a large amount of comedy in it, there are also several scenes of more tragic nature which were not portrayed as well as they could have been. It was an enjoyable performance all the same, and definitely worth it for the experience of having seen a performance at the Sydney Opera House.
The next day I fell prey to the 9 hour time difference with England as I got up ridiculously early so that I could skype with my friend Katy. After that I had breakfast and packed my bags ready to leave Sydney for Newcastle. I am now on the train and awaiting arrival at the next stop on my adventure, fortunately it's only a two and a half hour journey and i'll be there in tiem for dinner, most likely followed by some heavy drinking, it is Friday afterall.
Sun, spooks and scnaaps
Thursday 28th april
Surfing yesterday was great,despite still having a hangover at 3pm. The waves were pretty strong and I couldn'tget more than about 3 metres from the sand, not too mention the fact that I could only go about 15 minutes at a time before feeling too sick or too exausted and having to take a breather. After surfing I sped back to the hostel and then headed out to meet Gabby for our ghost tour extravaganza.
Gabby and I met at the harbour and made our way over to 'The Rocks', a super old area of Melbourne, to join the start of the tour. Our guide was hilarious, and not at all purposefully; He looked like a friendly baker in a black leather trenchcoat and the descriptions he gave of the 'gruesome' events that had transpired in the area had Gabby and me in stitches.
After the tour we went to a Bevarian themed restaurant, which was, if anything, more hilarious than the ghost tour guide. There was a 3 man band, all dressed in leiderhosen, playing such 'Bevarian' classics as YMCA and You Can Leave Your Hat On. We both ordered some sort of veal (I know i'm the devil) stroganoff-y kind of thing and I also had a cheeky little shot of peppermint shnaaps, as I've been wanting to try it ever since I saw Little Nicky years ago.
After dinner I headed back to the hostel and got myself a reasonably early night (1am) so that I could go surfing the next day.
Surfing yesterday was great,despite still having a hangover at 3pm. The waves were pretty strong and I couldn'tget more than about 3 metres from the sand, not too mention the fact that I could only go about 15 minutes at a time before feeling too sick or too exausted and having to take a breather. After surfing I sped back to the hostel and then headed out to meet Gabby for our ghost tour extravaganza.
Gabby and I met at the harbour and made our way over to 'The Rocks', a super old area of Melbourne, to join the start of the tour. Our guide was hilarious, and not at all purposefully; He looked like a friendly baker in a black leather trenchcoat and the descriptions he gave of the 'gruesome' events that had transpired in the area had Gabby and me in stitches.
After the tour we went to a Bevarian themed restaurant, which was, if anything, more hilarious than the ghost tour guide. There was a 3 man band, all dressed in leiderhosen, playing such 'Bevarian' classics as YMCA and You Can Leave Your Hat On. We both ordered some sort of veal (I know i'm the devil) stroganoff-y kind of thing and I also had a cheeky little shot of peppermint shnaaps, as I've been wanting to try it ever since I saw Little Nicky years ago.
After dinner I headed back to the hostel and got myself a reasonably early night (1am) so that I could go surfing the next day.
Tuesday 26 April 2011
Pong but not forgotten
Another night, another game of goon pong. Unsurprisingly my resolve weakened and my plan to have a sober night fell to pieces by around 7pm. So, after the entire hostel had finished watching The Notebook in the common room, we got our pong on. We also dabbled in a cheeky bit of flip cup (here's a hint, you have to flip your cup) and one of the girls called michelle turned out to be a rage machine when it came to drinking games.
I met a load of new people and, after the obligatory game of goon pong, we all went out to a nightclub called The Gaff. It was a cool club with a huge basement bar, and there were topless dance competitions and wet t-shirt contests going on all the time. Hedonism thy name is Gaff. I also seem to have been dubbed 'Tiger' as I've got tiger stripes in my hair and there are two Daves in our little posse.
I've been enlisted to design a tattoo for one of the guys here, so I did a little bit of sketching last night and will continue today once the hangover receeds a bit. Later on i'm going surfing wth my roommates and in the evening I will be meeting up with cousin Gab to go on a ghost tour around the rocks!
I met a load of new people and, after the obligatory game of goon pong, we all went out to a nightclub called The Gaff. It was a cool club with a huge basement bar, and there were topless dance competitions and wet t-shirt contests going on all the time. Hedonism thy name is Gaff. I also seem to have been dubbed 'Tiger' as I've got tiger stripes in my hair and there are two Daves in our little posse.
I've been enlisted to design a tattoo for one of the guys here, so I did a little bit of sketching last night and will continue today once the hangover receeds a bit. Later on i'm going surfing wth my roommates and in the evening I will be meeting up with cousin Gab to go on a ghost tour around the rocks!
Overly Hung
I arose this morning with a pounding headache and a mouth that felt like it had played host to a sand appreciation convention. The reason for this, of course, being the incredible amount of goon imbibed by myself the previous evening (or prevening) while playing a game called goon pong. Basically the same as beer pong, goon pong can be a pretty deadly game, especially when you're half cut to begin with. The aim of the game is to throw a ping pong ball into the opposing teams cup, which are partially filled with goon, whereupon said opponant has to drink the contents of the cup.Despite winning the first game I ended up wasted before we even left the hostel. After the goon ponging we all headed out to a club called Soho and had a bit of a boogie, then a few of us decided to go to another club. As we were walking down the strip I thought I recognised one of the girls on the door of one of the clubs, as it turned out I had gone to college with her in Grimsby 5 years ago! Small world agogo!
Anywho, after battling my way through breakfast, at midday, I decided to go and see the sights, so I trundled off into the city to kick it tourist style. I saw the botanic gardens, populated by approximately a jillion bats, the sydney opera house and harbour bridge and all sorts of other exciting stuff. I then returned to Chili Blue to colapse once more and chill. Early night tonight methinks, as I'm going surfing at 9am tomorrow.
Anywho, after battling my way through breakfast, at midday, I decided to go and see the sights, so I trundled off into the city to kick it tourist style. I saw the botanic gardens, populated by approximately a jillion bats, the sydney opera house and harbour bridge and all sorts of other exciting stuff. I then returned to Chili Blue to colapse once more and chill. Early night tonight methinks, as I'm going surfing at 9am tomorrow.
Monday 25 April 2011
Easy like monday afternoon
So i'm in a brand new city and should be out reaping the benefits that this coastal haven has to offer. I am not. I'm still feeling a little bit worse for wear after my train journey so I've been resting up ready for tonight; There's a plan to go out to a club called 'Soho' tonight which should be fun.
Sunday 24 April 2011
Penthouse baby!
So my room finally became available and into it I bounded, whereupon I met the first of my new roommates ; Ana from Denmark. She's is travelling with her boyfriend and they've been having an antipodean adventure for the last 8 months. Everyone I meet seems to have been travelling for quite a while, making my 6 months jaunt around Aus seem modest in comparison.
The room is nice, if a little small, and it's exciting to be back on the road and in a new city, especially as I haven't really spent much time in Sydney as an adult. Mario (possibly not his actual name but it definitely starts with an 'm'), my other roomie has ambitions towards the surf, so I may try and enlist him for a surf sometime.
The room is nice, if a little small, and it's exciting to be back on the road and in a new city, especially as I haven't really spent much time in Sydney as an adult. Mario (possibly not his actual name but it definitely starts with an 'm'), my other roomie has ambitions towards the surf, so I may try and enlist him for a surf sometime.
Penthouse baby!
So my room finally became available and into it I bounded, whereupon I met the first of my new roommates ; Ana from Denmark. She's is travelling with her boyfriend and they've been having an antipodean adventure for the last 8 months. Everyone I meet seems to have been travelling for quite a while, making my 6 months jaunt around Aus seem modest in comparison.
The room is nice, if a little small, and it's exciting to be back on the road and in a new city, especially as I haven't really spent much time in Sydney as an adult. Mario (possibly not his actual name but it definitely starts with an 'm'), my other roomie has ambitions towards the surf, so I may try and enlist him for a surf sometime.
The room is nice, if a little small, and it's exciting to be back on the road and in a new city, especially as I haven't really spent much time in Sydney as an adult. Mario (possibly not his actual name but it definitely starts with an 'm'), my other roomie has ambitions towards the surf, so I may try and enlist him for a surf sometime.
Home and away from home
So I have finally managed to get into the hostel, my room won't be ready until 11am but i'm definitely happy to be in the hostel. I'm just sitting in the common room at the moment, on one of the millions of futon-esque seats, wondering what to do with my day. This rain os stillpouring down but I've decided that rain or not I am going to go surfing while I'm in Sydney.
Back to the point
After an extremely lengthy interlude in Melbourne I have finally hit the road again, and as such, I figure I may as well start using this blog as it was originally intended; as a travel journal type thing. So here goes!
I jumped on my train from Sydney to Melbourne at 8pm last night, with high hopes of a nice lengthy sleep to help pass the 12 hours i was to spend in transit. No such luck! After a week of late nights, and even later mornings, I found myself unable to drift into slumberland, leaving me stranded in the land of the conscious. Strange though it may seem, the hour and a half sleep I managaged on the train has not left me feeling especially bright eyed not bushy tailed (although the latter is perhaps a relief. You have to wonder how a decent night's sleep can prompt one to sprout a tail, bushy or otherwise), and as a testament to my lack of preparation for this little jaunt to Sydney, I arrived at the train station only to realise I had not, in fact, written down the address of my hostel. So a quick call to my father, and one very confused cabbie (it turns out my hunch about where the hostel might be was entirely wrong), later I touched down on Victoria street. The weather was fresh, or to put it in a more British way, wetter than a badger in the mist. Nevertheless I had arrived and relief abounded, unfortunately my relief may have been premature, mcuh like myself, as I had arrived at the hostel an hour before it opened.
So here I sit, freshly squeezed orange juice in hand, recounting my tale to you while I await the recumbent staff off Chilli Blue backpackers. All hail Joe's Cafe for being open at 8am on Anzac Day. With any luck once i've booked in to my room and set the world to rights, in the common fashion of breakfasting and showering, I'll make my way in to town to watch the Anzac Day parade. Either that or my bad luck may continue and rain will prevent play.
I jumped on my train from Sydney to Melbourne at 8pm last night, with high hopes of a nice lengthy sleep to help pass the 12 hours i was to spend in transit. No such luck! After a week of late nights, and even later mornings, I found myself unable to drift into slumberland, leaving me stranded in the land of the conscious. Strange though it may seem, the hour and a half sleep I managaged on the train has not left me feeling especially bright eyed not bushy tailed (although the latter is perhaps a relief. You have to wonder how a decent night's sleep can prompt one to sprout a tail, bushy or otherwise), and as a testament to my lack of preparation for this little jaunt to Sydney, I arrived at the train station only to realise I had not, in fact, written down the address of my hostel. So a quick call to my father, and one very confused cabbie (it turns out my hunch about where the hostel might be was entirely wrong), later I touched down on Victoria street. The weather was fresh, or to put it in a more British way, wetter than a badger in the mist. Nevertheless I had arrived and relief abounded, unfortunately my relief may have been premature, mcuh like myself, as I had arrived at the hostel an hour before it opened.
So here I sit, freshly squeezed orange juice in hand, recounting my tale to you while I await the recumbent staff off Chilli Blue backpackers. All hail Joe's Cafe for being open at 8am on Anzac Day. With any luck once i've booked in to my room and set the world to rights, in the common fashion of breakfasting and showering, I'll make my way in to town to watch the Anzac Day parade. Either that or my bad luck may continue and rain will prevent play.
Wednesday 30 March 2011
A vox in the henhouse
There is a curious murmuring, in among the vox populi, that the youth and, indeed, entire younger generation of today's society is all too interested in 'matters of the flesh'. This is, in fact, a fallacy and ,moreover, a heresy; It is the lack of acceptance, inherent in today's society, of the discussion and exploration of the entire sexual gamut of experience, that so stunts the sexual and emotional vernacular of the very generations they deplore.
There have been ages of 'free love' and great periods of exploration in the arena of sexual encounters. What is lacking, on the other hand, is a free,open and non-judgmental public forum (by which I do not mean to refer to the internet's definition of 'forum', but more to indicate the origins of that word which are that a public forum being a gathering or meeting of minds), wherein people can discuss and learn from the sexual experience of others.
This rather lengthy prologue leads me on to the true crime of this stray social patriarchal figure, ever looking over your shoulder, the 'vox in the henhouse' as it were. The true crime being the thousands of bastard children left in it's wake. I speak not of the literal bastard children left behind in this onslaught of naivety, but of the morons who are so idiotic when around their peers, especially those to whom they are sexually attracted. These poor souls have no hope of developing as sexual beings as they are unable to communicate with others about anything sexual, and as such are less likely to learn.
I have to admit I begin to lose my own, invariably important, point, and so will close with a thought:
'They have said that knowledge is power; and from that grown wealthy. For they knew that is it not knowledge that grants power, but the distance that knowledge has traveled. As they shared the power of knowledge, through the hearts and tongues of man, so to did their power over man's mind grow. So it came to be that, to lessens mankind's resolve, all that was needed was restrict that bounty of knowledge which one was free, turning it from a harvest to a ration. The cruel trick lay in convincing man that it be his choice.'
Hmm, very strange yet again. Well enjoy the wine that has, this eve, been squeezed from my mind grapes.
Yours,
The Inert Nomad
There have been ages of 'free love' and great periods of exploration in the arena of sexual encounters. What is lacking, on the other hand, is a free,open and non-judgmental public forum (by which I do not mean to refer to the internet's definition of 'forum', but more to indicate the origins of that word which are that a public forum being a gathering or meeting of minds), wherein people can discuss and learn from the sexual experience of others.
This rather lengthy prologue leads me on to the true crime of this stray social patriarchal figure, ever looking over your shoulder, the 'vox in the henhouse' as it were. The true crime being the thousands of bastard children left in it's wake. I speak not of the literal bastard children left behind in this onslaught of naivety, but of the morons who are so idiotic when around their peers, especially those to whom they are sexually attracted. These poor souls have no hope of developing as sexual beings as they are unable to communicate with others about anything sexual, and as such are less likely to learn.
I have to admit I begin to lose my own, invariably important, point, and so will close with a thought:
'They have said that knowledge is power; and from that grown wealthy. For they knew that is it not knowledge that grants power, but the distance that knowledge has traveled. As they shared the power of knowledge, through the hearts and tongues of man, so to did their power over man's mind grow. So it came to be that, to lessens mankind's resolve, all that was needed was restrict that bounty of knowledge which one was free, turning it from a harvest to a ration. The cruel trick lay in convincing man that it be his choice.'
Hmm, very strange yet again. Well enjoy the wine that has, this eve, been squeezed from my mind grapes.
Yours,
The Inert Nomad
Friday 25 March 2011
If roses are red and violets are blue, how do you explain love to the colour-blind
It's is a sad and trying fact that love is used as a wrecking ball to our defence against commercial immersion. Much as an ancient piece of architecture, an enigma poised in front of our eyes, as the pyramids were to their discoverers, baffles those who seek to find a science behind the beauty of a statue; Films, television series and, even, the events that unfold within a social group, will ever convince the unwitting population of any society. Instilling them with the virtuous cry of "I believe in love at first sight!' and "You had me at hello!"
This is not a thing to take pride in. All of us have those moments in life, and some have those lives based in those moments, where we will gives way to need and we sink into a world not our own. A facsimile of our existence, shown on a screen, with friendly characters and trials that seem all too familiar, is enough to relive you of heavy thoughts, most, probably innocuous in their nature, but all the same enough to weary a mind.
The point of this tale, dear friends is to indicate the flaw of humanity's inner Shakespeare, ever compelling romeo to ask "What light through yonder window breaks." Waiting with baited breath, and a sigh of relief when it hears "It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." So that when in real life Romeo turns out to be an absolute bastard, only interested in one thing, the human race recoils in shock and amazement. The same for today's Romeo, upon suiting his dear Juliette, pronouncing her beauty to be, to him, like the rising of the sun, is surprised upon hearing his maiden refer to him as a nancy and too clingy by far.
The lesson here, gentle folk, is to have faith in love, for it is faith that can make the blind see and a man walk on water, but do not believe in it, for belief is that desperation that makes a man kill that which threatens his belief, for that is all he knows.
This has been incredibly odd, but it did warn you that I would most likely be somewhat less than the image of sobriety during these interludes from reality. So I offer no apology, only the best of intension's in the most misguided of areas.
Yours,
The Inert Nomad
This is not a thing to take pride in. All of us have those moments in life, and some have those lives based in those moments, where we will gives way to need and we sink into a world not our own. A facsimile of our existence, shown on a screen, with friendly characters and trials that seem all too familiar, is enough to relive you of heavy thoughts, most, probably innocuous in their nature, but all the same enough to weary a mind.
The point of this tale, dear friends is to indicate the flaw of humanity's inner Shakespeare, ever compelling romeo to ask "What light through yonder window breaks." Waiting with baited breath, and a sigh of relief when it hears "It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." So that when in real life Romeo turns out to be an absolute bastard, only interested in one thing, the human race recoils in shock and amazement. The same for today's Romeo, upon suiting his dear Juliette, pronouncing her beauty to be, to him, like the rising of the sun, is surprised upon hearing his maiden refer to him as a nancy and too clingy by far.
The lesson here, gentle folk, is to have faith in love, for it is faith that can make the blind see and a man walk on water, but do not believe in it, for belief is that desperation that makes a man kill that which threatens his belief, for that is all he knows.
This has been incredibly odd, but it did warn you that I would most likely be somewhat less than the image of sobriety during these interludes from reality. So I offer no apology, only the best of intension's in the most misguided of areas.
Yours,
The Inert Nomad
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