Noosa, Nambour

 
Decided that I had seen enough of Byron for a little while but will definitely be back. It was time to head North. On the way to Noosa was Nambour a regional Queensland town in the middle of sugar cane and pineaple plantations. Also there was Evelyn an Austrian medical student who I had met in Byron a couple of weeks earlier and I had given her some surfing lessons. I arrived last Tuesday night and then spent Wednesday covered in surfboard resin and dust fixing the accumulated cracks and dents that I had been adding to my once pristine shiny board.
 
Thursday I headed out to Maroochydore and Maloolabaa on the coast. There was not much surf and the towns are high rise hell with very little to please the eye. I watched some surfers for a little while catching small but steep waves over rocks near a lighthouse and then drove down to Coolum which was a little nicer but still no exciting surf to enourage me to get wet. Friday Evelyn and I headed out to Noosa.
 
My first reaction to Noosa was. Money Money Money. The place was Toorak by the beach. Loads of people walking round in designer clothes, ugly sunglasses and leathery tans. The town is beautiful in a resort style of way with none of the rough edges that Byron has, no signs for clairvoyants or energy healing here, just property agents willing to lighten your load to the tune of a million dollars or more. Still the National Park at Noosa heads in very nice to walk around and if there was surf which there wasn't it would be a lovely place to catch some waves.
 
Looking for something to do that night we decided to see a movie. Unfortunately we decided to see "The True Story" of King Arthur. If there is one thing I emplore anybody to do, it is not see this movie. Stick with the legend of King Arther. The true story is much more mundane and the acting is worse. Arghhh, By the end I was hoping the invading Saxons would win the battle instead of Arthur and his band of pouty boy band styled Samation knights. Anyway we saved the day by observing that nobody actually checked tickets at the cinema doors. They just checked them at the entrance to the complex so we nipped into the cinema next door and caught Spider Man 2 a most entertaining load of nonsense which I high recommend.
 
By the time this movie ended Noosa was shutting down and all that was left was a bar and a nightclub neither of which we would recommend. I'm thinking 5th Aveneue in Cambridge. Still they served cold beer and given we hadn't had dinner, something in the stomach was comforting. After exiting the club there was nothing left to do except crash out in our sleeping bags down by the Noosa river. A warm starlit night it was great to be sleeping outside again, that is until we were woken in the moring by the ranger who gave us a little yellow piece of paper informing us that "free camping" in Noosa shire was illegal and that somehow we were lowering the class of the neighbourhood by our actions. 
 
We then spent the rest of the day at Eumundi markets a definite must see. A lovely little town and a really nice market full of interesting things. I had a long conversation with a women about industrial hemp production and the problems and future of the industry. She was a tough small little woman who commisioned her own fabrics to be made and then sewed her own garments. Eveyln bought one of her tops which looked quite good. The woman predicted that eventually most of the cotton farmers would transfer to industrial hemp once all the problems with it's production and processing had been sorted out. It will be interesting to see.
 
From Eumundi we travelled up to Elanda Point and stayed at the camp grounds of the Elanda Point Canoe Company set on Lake Cootharaba fed by the Noosa River. We camped there on Saturday night and on Sunday hired a canoe and paddled north up the lake and into the Noosa river. Hardly anybody about and really still and quiet on the river. The color of the water is amazing. Blood red in places and sometimes black depending on the depth of the water. The color must be generated by all the tea trees lining the banks. It is tempting to want to jump into the cool still waters of the river but a sign at the ranger office convinces you  otherwise. Four meter long bull sharks  prowl the estuaries looking to munch on unsuspecting human snacklets.

So we stayed in the canoe and had lunch on the river. The paddle back across the lake was a killer. The wind had sprung up and we were going straight into it. It took 45 minutes of continuous paddling and vigillence to ensure we didn't end side on to the waves and accidently tip over. Still we made it back to the camp on time, packed camp and headed back to Nambour.

B

Pushing the limits

The waves got big today. Went down to Broken head with Jon and Ursula and managed to convince Jon to give the break a go. I only caught one wave sort of. I managed to make the drop but fluffed it on the bottom turn and got myself hammered in shallow water. I hit the bottom and twisted my left middle finger. Ouch but not too bad. I hadn't had a good wipeout like that for a long time and I enjoyed it very much. That was my adrenellin rush for the day and a couple more failed attempts at waves and we bailed out and headed back to the gentler surf at Wategos. The northely sweep had almost dissapeared so I could sit out back without ending up miles down the beach. Patience was required but a few good waves came through. Again there were dolphins playing around me, jumping out of the water and expertly surfing the waves.

In Byron Bay

Hi all,

I've now been in Byron Bay for about two weeks. Life is pretty easy here. Got sick of camping and living out the back of my car. Before getting to Byron I met up with my Aunt and uncle in Yamba then drove down to Angourie a famed surf spot. I pulled up at the car park overlooking the break. A very long right hand point and the swell was running very strong and big.

I started chatting to a bloke standing next to me. "Not great out there today is it?" he suggested. "Huh!" I replied. "Pretty small stuff. Not worth getting wet really" he mused again. As far as I could see the waves were well over head high and sometimes barreling. Big enough for me. In fact too big and I wasn't keen on going out over a rocky bottom and mixing it with some obviously very good surfers. I walked around a little and decided to give camping a miss and drive straight for Byron.

Just before getting to Byron I stopped in at Lennox head, another amazing long point break and just happened to start chatting to an English couple, Jon and Ursula who had been staying in Byron for two months. I've been surfing with them ever since.

Byron Bay is a little like Cambridge I have decided but instead of all the tourists coming to go punting on the tranquil river Cam they come for the surf, apart from that it is very much like living in a small town decended on by hordes of tourists. However the nightlife is better and there is live music every night. I got myself a room in a house which is cheaper than staying in a hostel and I don't have to share with other stinky tourists.

I've been told I have to recant a story that happened ages ago to me. This was way back when I was heading to Canberra to meet up with Annete. As it got dark I stopped for the night at a road side rest area, not willing to mix it with the trucks and other nutters out on the road after dark. Whilst I was preparing dinner on my trusty campa-stove I noticed movement on the periphering of my light. It was a little fox. Oh how cute I thought. Still before I went to bed I made sure to put away all edible temptibles and lock everything up. I go to bed, sleep then wake up, as you do, yawned once and opened the fly of my tent to see the little fox sitting outside my tent with my washing up sponge in it's mouth. I put my shoes on and tried to chase the fox to get my sponge back. Obviously amused my feeble attempts to match it's dexterity the fox danced around the camp site avoiding my lumbering attempts to catch up with it. Then the fox stopped dead and dropped my sponge. Finally I thought, I win. Not so quick. With what I am sure was a devilish grin on it's face the fox looked at me, then my sponge, spun 180 degrees to squat over my sponge and then shat on it. "It's mine now" was the clear message and I couldn't do anything but agree. Still I was enamoured with the cute little thing and forgave it's behaviour, that is until I took a closer look around my camp site. My car was covered in muddy little footprints. Almost every square centimetre was painted. Then a look behind my tent resulted in the discovery of a broken and obviously chewed piece of rope that was meant to hold my tent up. At this point I lost my temper and grabed a handfull of small rocks and proceeded to chase the terrified animal with projectiles and insults until it got the message and dissapeared never to return.