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.
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.
posted by Brad Phelan at Sunday, July 11, 2004
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kewl
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