(no subject)
...so our Oz Adventure continued with an early morning flight from Sydney up to Byron Bay. We were on Virgin Blue, which is a low-cost operator, but with a little bit more panache than Ryanair's "we don't allow anybody to sleep because we are too busy selling them products."
When we arrived in Byron Bay, we rocked up at our hostel, the Arts Factory, which was very much like a commune - a lot of the guests there were working for their rooms, either cleaning, cooking, or teaching their skills in classes. It set the tone for what was a fantastic vibe for this town. Visiting in the low season, we decided, was perfect. The town is beautiful, with a stunning coastline and fantastic little Main Street that eschews national chains. Visiting in the summer could probably have been pretty hellish though, as the place would have been rammed.
Most of our time was spent either drinking or relaxing. We took a surfing lesson (ha!) and managed to stand for all of a couple of seconds... in our defence, the conditions (currents etc) were pretty dismal!
Nights were spent at the notorious Cheeky Monkeys (Somehow that place is synonymous with Byron Bay amongst backpackers). Tables with a non-slip top set the tone for a cracking night of table-dancing, and it was one fateful night at this establishment that Mr. Spikey James met the wonderful Laura. Her mates promptly adopted us and showed us the sights and sounds of town (uhh... Aussie Emo?) as well as their gorgeous apartment, with rooftop balcony, which put shame to our 6-in-a-room mould-smelling dorm at the hostel.
Laura *somehow* convinced James that he would like to stay another night in Byron Bay... although much to our good fortune, it meant that we were around for the Sunday market, which was nothing less than mini-Glastonbury. Drum circles, Anti-Bust / Howard protests, hemp clothing, organic food - it was fantastic. Quite possibly one of the highlights of the town - and I'm very glad that we ended up staying for it.
I then had to drag James kicking and screaming off to the bus stop for our tortuous 12 hour bus Journey to Hervey Bay, for Fraser Island. The strange thing with Aussie public transport is that it seems to exacerbate even the shortest of journeys.
Rocking in to our hostel at 10 at night, we were informed that all we could have to eat was microwave noodles (yum!) and that we had to leave the hostel at 6 the next morning for our Fraser Island briefing. To say that at this point Fraser Island seemed but a distant good idea was something of an understatement...
However we managed to get up the next day on time, and headed off. We were paired up with 7 other people to share a jeep, and we were in a convoy of 3 jeeps. We were presented with an itinerary, a shopping list, and sent on our way! Once fully loaded up with food we headed off to the Island ferry...
To say that we had a fantastic three days at Fraser Island would be something of an understatement. Every night we'd meet up with the other two jeeps and camp in the dunes, drinking our way through our beers... Trying our best to avoid the dingoes (which one night pretty much 'attacked' our site... we could hear them fighting right outside our tent)
The island was gorgrous, and completely surreal. You would have crystal clear lakes, vast sand dunes, lush rainforest, and not a soul in sight. As it was winter, the moon would also be visible in the late afternoon, adding to the surreal nature. It may be a bit of a cliche, but you did feel as though you were in a completely different civillisation.
It was quite a depressing thought to sit there on the Thursday and think "Crap, I have to be back at my desk in an industrial estate by the M3 on Monday"
After Fraser Island, we had to return to Brisbane, so that I could catch my flight. I had quite probably the funniest train journey in a while. The interior had been decorated to look like a plane - all the seats faced the same way, and there were overhead luggage lockers. There was even a safety video... which warned you to hold on extra tight when the train reached it's maximum speed. All very exciting... until it turned out that the maximum speed was a paltry 90kph. I think even Central trains manage more than this...
When we got to Brisbane, we spent a night in the city - whilst I would safely say there's not much there for tourists, I could imagine it being a wonderful place to live - there were some fantastic areas down by the river, full of cafes and restaurants. We hunted out a nice indie club to go to - thought Lonely Planet neglected to mention that it had closed down!
Final thoughts on Oz... I guess one of the things that struck us the most was the sheer friendliness of people. The backpacker circuit is notoriously friendly everywhere you go - but this friendliness extended to every local that we met and talked to. The quality of life seemed to be much higher too - certainly poverty didn't seem to be as extensive elsewhere. Chris and I joke that one day we'll quit work and set up a juice bar by the beach. There's a worrying amount of realistic possibility behind that idea...
When we arrived in Byron Bay, we rocked up at our hostel, the Arts Factory, which was very much like a commune - a lot of the guests there were working for their rooms, either cleaning, cooking, or teaching their skills in classes. It set the tone for what was a fantastic vibe for this town. Visiting in the low season, we decided, was perfect. The town is beautiful, with a stunning coastline and fantastic little Main Street that eschews national chains. Visiting in the summer could probably have been pretty hellish though, as the place would have been rammed.
Most of our time was spent either drinking or relaxing. We took a surfing lesson (ha!) and managed to stand for all of a couple of seconds... in our defence, the conditions (currents etc) were pretty dismal!
Nights were spent at the notorious Cheeky Monkeys (Somehow that place is synonymous with Byron Bay amongst backpackers). Tables with a non-slip top set the tone for a cracking night of table-dancing, and it was one fateful night at this establishment that Mr. Spikey James met the wonderful Laura. Her mates promptly adopted us and showed us the sights and sounds of town (uhh... Aussie Emo?) as well as their gorgeous apartment, with rooftop balcony, which put shame to our 6-in-a-room mould-smelling dorm at the hostel.
Laura *somehow* convinced James that he would like to stay another night in Byron Bay... although much to our good fortune, it meant that we were around for the Sunday market, which was nothing less than mini-Glastonbury. Drum circles, Anti-Bust / Howard protests, hemp clothing, organic food - it was fantastic. Quite possibly one of the highlights of the town - and I'm very glad that we ended up staying for it.
I then had to drag James kicking and screaming off to the bus stop for our tortuous 12 hour bus Journey to Hervey Bay, for Fraser Island. The strange thing with Aussie public transport is that it seems to exacerbate even the shortest of journeys.
Rocking in to our hostel at 10 at night, we were informed that all we could have to eat was microwave noodles (yum!) and that we had to leave the hostel at 6 the next morning for our Fraser Island briefing. To say that at this point Fraser Island seemed but a distant good idea was something of an understatement...
However we managed to get up the next day on time, and headed off. We were paired up with 7 other people to share a jeep, and we were in a convoy of 3 jeeps. We were presented with an itinerary, a shopping list, and sent on our way! Once fully loaded up with food we headed off to the Island ferry...
To say that we had a fantastic three days at Fraser Island would be something of an understatement. Every night we'd meet up with the other two jeeps and camp in the dunes, drinking our way through our beers... Trying our best to avoid the dingoes (which one night pretty much 'attacked' our site... we could hear them fighting right outside our tent)
The island was gorgrous, and completely surreal. You would have crystal clear lakes, vast sand dunes, lush rainforest, and not a soul in sight. As it was winter, the moon would also be visible in the late afternoon, adding to the surreal nature. It may be a bit of a cliche, but you did feel as though you were in a completely different civillisation.
It was quite a depressing thought to sit there on the Thursday and think "Crap, I have to be back at my desk in an industrial estate by the M3 on Monday"
After Fraser Island, we had to return to Brisbane, so that I could catch my flight. I had quite probably the funniest train journey in a while. The interior had been decorated to look like a plane - all the seats faced the same way, and there were overhead luggage lockers. There was even a safety video... which warned you to hold on extra tight when the train reached it's maximum speed. All very exciting... until it turned out that the maximum speed was a paltry 90kph. I think even Central trains manage more than this...
When we got to Brisbane, we spent a night in the city - whilst I would safely say there's not much there for tourists, I could imagine it being a wonderful place to live - there were some fantastic areas down by the river, full of cafes and restaurants. We hunted out a nice indie club to go to - thought Lonely Planet neglected to mention that it had closed down!
Final thoughts on Oz... I guess one of the things that struck us the most was the sheer friendliness of people. The backpacker circuit is notoriously friendly everywhere you go - but this friendliness extended to every local that we met and talked to. The quality of life seemed to be much higher too - certainly poverty didn't seem to be as extensive elsewhere. Chris and I joke that one day we'll quit work and set up a juice bar by the beach. There's a worrying amount of realistic possibility behind that idea...