Hello once again to you all.
It seems that I only sent out the last installment of my adventures about a week ago, when of course it has been much longer. I recall writing in one of my previous installments that (when I got to Melbourne I believe) I was glad to have slowed my pace for a time. Well since the last issue things have been anything but slow. At times I have felt as if things were going more than just fast, more than "rollercoaster fast"; I had entered the rarely seen realms of "Red hot maximum overdrive". Before we get to that however I remember that at the end of Part 5 I promised you a tale of my tour of the Great Ocean Road.
The Great Ocean Road was built between 1919 and 1932 and stretches for 285km between Torquay and Warranamboo. It was originally conceived as both a memorial to soldiers who dies in WW1 and an employment scheme for those who returned. It was intended to rival the Californian Pacific Coast Highway, so now I will have to visit that to provide comparison. I got up bright and early (as ever) and set off on the tour bus. We weren't going to go along the whole road but we were going to visit a number of things along the way to the main attraction of the trip; the "Twelve Apostles", which I will get to in due course.
The day started with the usual tour of the local hostels to pick people up and then off we went. Once we were clear of the city we soon joined the coast road and associated beautiful seascapes, although we were yet to reach the start of the Ocean road. Before we reached this point we had stopped at a local golf course to say 'hello' to the kangaroos that hop all over it . This was pleasant enough and I suppose that for those that had not seen wild 'roos before it was nice but I have seen so many now that the novelty has started to fade. Anyway shortly we were on the road again and by this time we had passed under the rather unimpressive wooden arch that marks the start of the Great Ocean Road. The views from almost all points on the road are spectacular, the blue ocean and golden sands meeting lush green rain forest and farmland seemed to go on forever. Our first stop along the way was at "Bells Beach" (I think that is what it was called) where the final scene from the film "Point Break" was filmed. It was essentially just another surfing beach but knowing it had been in that film (which I have seen many times) seemed to make the place more special. Also there were some pretty good surfers out in the waves which helped boost the ambiance.
Next up we left the main road for a brief detour in to the forest to go koala spotting. I have always found that I am not naturally predisposed to spotting tree hugging mammals. It all started with those red pandas that many zoos claim to have (including Perth zoo) but no matter how long you stand and crane your neck and search the canopy all you see are leaves. I suspect that they don't exist and its a zoologists joke. Anyway koalas are another such animal only there is a difference. You see koalas do exist and I know this because everyone else can see them, its just me who can't. I have come to believe that when I look they hide and when I look away they jump up and down in the branches and wave and throw gum nuts at people. After a time they tire of this game and allow one of the other observers to point them out to me. So eventually I see a wild koala and try to take a picture that will probably look like a photo of an old gray tennis ball stuck way up in a tree. Oh well at least 'I' will know what it was.
Then it was back on the road and down to "Apollo Bay" (a small coastal town) where I had my lunch on the beach before we drove inland a little way to explore the coastal rain forest by going on a very nice but very very short walk. Then at last it was time for the highlight of the tour and the main reason I had wanted to go on it. It was time to visit the "Twelve Apostles". So what are these? Well basically they are a row of sea stacks. They are rather impressive although there are no longer twelve. On account of the sea wearing them away there are now only nine. The exact number however doesn't seem important as even when they were first named there weren't twelve there were sixteen (if I remember correctly). Anyway I was very pleased to have got there at last and was suitably impressed. I had first decided I wanted to see them when I had seen a picture of them in my guide book before I left England. I remember looking at the picture and then looking it up on the map and thinking to myself "I'm going to go there". So I was not only glad to see them for their own natural beauty but I also felt a faint sense of achievement as I had successful y completed another of my trips objectives.
After the apostles we continued along the coast for a while to go and see "Lock Ard Gorge" which is another creation of the ocean. It is a huge arch shaped stack in the sea which was also very impressive and its surroundings also boasted many secluded (but dangerous) bays and coves. As we explored out guide told us all about various nautical disasters that had left people stranded in the caves when their ships had been smashed on the rocks. This stretch of coast is also known as the "Shipwreck coast". And so that was the Great Ocean Road. It was time to get back to Melbourne and have an early night ready to check out the next morning and begin what turned out to be a very big day.
I had decided that the south east corner of OZ, while probably packed with "gorgeous this" and "must see, that" didn't have anything I was desperate to see that I hadn't already seen or was planning to see further up the east coast. Therefore it made sense to make a larger than usual jump and catch a plane from Melbourne to Brisbane. In order to get the cheapest flight possible however I had booked myself on a plane that left at 6:15am the next morning which meant getting the 4:35am shuttle bus from the hostel to the airport. So I spent the day watching TV in the hostel lounge and saying goodbye to people all over again. I had hoped that after about midnight the TV room would empty out and I could snooze on the sofa until I had to leave. Of course this didn't happen and I ended up sitting chatting until 4am by which time there was little point in sleeping.
I was the only passenger on the shuttle bus and when I arrived at the airport it was similarly empty. It gradually filled up as I waited and by the time we boarded it was a full house. I have to say that despite the tiredness I thoroughly enjoyed the flight. I don't know if the novelty of flying ever wears off, but I can't imagine it would, its just so cool. The views from the plane were excellent and so were the rainbows in the clouds. Needless to say I didn't get any sleep on the plane. When I arrived in Brisbane it was hot, certainly compared to Cradle Mountain. I found a shuttle bus to take me in to the city and as we drove I realized that I had passed through tiredness and was wide awake again. This presented me with a dilemma. Do I do as planned and stop for a day in Brisbane or do I get a ticket to where I was really heading for. I made some inquiries and found there was a bus leaving in just an hour, so I made a snap decision and bought a ticket. I went off to find a spot of brunch while I waited for the bus and after a chicken sandwich (with extra gristle as is the Australian style) I was back in another cramped seat for 3.5hrs as I journeyed back south to the new age beach paradise of Byron Bay. By this time I had already been awake for over 32hrs straight and was surprisingly not tired. It had done strange things to my sense of time but then I had already had 2 days in one and it still wasn't finished. I arrive at the beautifully painted "Byron Bay Bunkhouse". When I checked in to the hostel they were in the middle of preparations for the evenings bar-b-q and live music event. This sounded rather nice and meant I didn't have to worry about buying and cooking food. Now I was aware (and I am sure some of you have been thinking this) that sleep deprivation can be bad for the health so I decided to get an hours kip before dinner. When I awoke I met a french bloke in my dorm who offered me a beer and we went off to the bar-b-q together. It was an excellent night and the local band were joined by some of the backpacker who had their own guitars which provided an eclectic mix of musical styles from around the world. And then at 10pm, some 38 hours after my "Big Day" had begun I hit the sack for a very well deserved sleep.
The next day was spent exploring the area and getting used to the heat and bright sunshine. I dug my sunglasses out of my pack, bent them back in to shape and strode forth in to town, but not before I had gorged myself on the hostels complimentary all you can eat pancake breakfast. Byron Bay was apparently once a dilapidated working class town without much going for it. Then it and more importantly it 30km's of unbroken sandy beaches were discovered by the surfers. After the surfers came the hippies and more recently this mix of natural beauty, surfing and new age curiosities has brought the tourists. It is now definitely a "must" for backpackers and so far at least has retained its unique charm in the face of commercial tourism. I wandered down the busy main street trying to adopt the same lazy style as the locals. It didn't take me long to warm to the place and to understand why it had become so popular.
The streets are lined with every kind of new age craft shop and cafe selling everything from organic food to clothed to suit the would be hippy and the aspiring surfer. (I incidentally was neither) The air is filled day and night with music of all descriptions. Every evening as I sat out on the hostel balcony eating my dinner it was as if I was just around the corner from a joyous carnival. It wasn't the slightly sinister racket often associated with a visiting funfair, instead it was the friendly and inviting sound of people from all backgrounds enjoying themselves.
I spent the rest of my first day walking along the pristine beaches and just relaxing after the previous days travel. Having spent winter in chilly Melbourne and then the snow of Tasmania, Byron was exactly what the doctor ordered, it was like having a holiday from a holiday; if that's possible. I headed back to the hostel and decided I would be lazy about cooking again and spent $4 on the "in house" dinner.
The meal was excellent and whilst I was eating it an old man sat down opposite me at the table. I glanced at him and remembered I had seen him earlier near the beach. He was of distinctive appearance with his long thin gray hair, thick glasses, brightly coloured scarf tied around his head in a band. His clothes were of hippy style and he wore beads and flowers. His face was darkly tanned and its deep furrows clenched in to a smile as he asked my name. I told him and he said "pleased to meet you, I'm Beautiful". I was soon to discover that I was in the presence of a kind of modern legend. He spent his days sat down by the beach surrounded by his paper signs on each of which was written one of his own unique wisdoms such as "You are already fully enlightened". He would entice people to speak to him and would hand out flowers to the girls, accepting nothing in return but a smile. I think perhaps we have all heard of a man like Beautiful, it may have been in a film or book or some travelers tale (not unlike this one). I know I have, but I never thought it was true, the people like this existed. He wasn't a "weekend hippy" and he wasn't selling anything; at the end of the day he didn't take off his hippy "costume" and drink Pimms on the verandah of his colonial mansion. He was the genuine article. I am sure there are thousands of "Beautiful" around the world but I can't help wondering for how many of them it is just an act.
Anyway back to the Bay. I spent several days in Byron just lazing around on the beaches (in the shade as I have never been one for tanning) but soon it was time to go on a little excursion. If Byron is a "must" for backpackers the the nearby township of Nimbin is a Mecca. So what attracts people to Nimbin? Well it is another new age place, similarly psychedelically painted and full of odd characters, it is much smaller than Byron and is in the middle of nowhere. So once again I as what is the attraction? To be frank its Marijuana. Now Marijuana is illegal in OZ and is policed with varying degrees of zeal but in Nimbin the locals and the police have a kind of understanding. Basically it has become so much a part of the culture of the place that the police couldn't get rid of it if they tried; and in the past they had tried. This however has meant that Nimbin had become little more than a bizarre and seedy drugs market. Walking up the main street I was offered a drug deal 8 times and the street is only about 200m long. The same happened on the way back. So what else does the town have to offer? There is the museum which contains a seemingly random clutter of marijuana related artifacts and articles. There is the 'hemp embasy' who promote the uses of marijuana for both its medicinal and materiel properties. There are several cafes offering various foods much of which is organic or vegetarian and some cakes and biscuits containing (guess what) marijuana. The surreality of the place defies description. Later on the tour we visited a local permaculture center. Permaculture stands for permanent culture. It is a way of life that uses environmentally friendly and sustainable methods to produce all their food, fuel and building materiels etc.. It was interesting but I don't think I would like to live there. Next up it was a quick visit to a 98m high waterfall for a final leg stretch before heading back to Byron. Possibly the strangest day trip I have been on yet.
Another few days in Byron and it was time to move on again. I didn't really want to leave as I liked the place so much but all good things come to an end; or so I'm told. Anyway my finances were once again withering and so I decided to head for the farming regions and the town of Bundaberg.
Bundaberg is just another farming town and is only visited for 2 reasons, to work and to visit the Bundaberg Rum Factory. Now as I have already said I was there to work but while I was there I thought I may as well visit the distillery. I have been around spirit distilleries before so it was nothing new but I just love the smell of the places not to mention the free drinks at the end. Having done the distillery that only left work. Bundy has a 10 month picking season. Except when I arrived, due to the bad winter there was an unusual gap in the season which meant no work. This was rather a disappointment and I wasn't sure what I should do, so I consulted my travel guide and decided to head up the coast. I couldn't leave until after the weekend as the bus station was closed, so early Monday I go and get a ticket and then go to check out of the hostel only to be told that there is a little work if I want it. I decided I would give it a try and I rearrange my ticket. Next day I get up rather early to go and prune sweet potato vines. This work lasted 2 days and then nothing. Until someone gets chucked out of the hostel and I get his job next day helping a farmer to dismantle his huge tractor. Then another day off before a half day of picking squash. Then the work dried up again and there wasn't much hope of any more so I picked the brains of an old hand on the picking circuit and with this info I set off again.
Unfortunately the bus ticket I already had was to Rockhampton and I had since been told that there was no work there. There was also practically nothing else there either. So why had I decided to go there? Err... not too sure. I think it just seemed a logical distance further up the east coast. Anyway I didn't have to stay there long. As it turned out however "Fate" the great puppeteer had perhaps guided my hand as unbeknownst to me a series of curiously lucky events was about to unfold.
And so I step off the ash speckled streets of Bundy and on to a rather smelly bus. (The ash rains from the sky after nearby cane field are burned off. Its odd ash, its black, brittle and twisty). The bus finally dropped me in Rocky at about 10:30pm, it was dark and the hostels courtesy bus had failed to turn up. After consulting a map I set off along the unlit road in a town with a reputation for gang violence. A reputation that as far as I could tell was undeserved. I get to the hostel, check in and call it a night. In the morning I set off to town to try to get a cheap bus ticket out but was unable to find one and so I decided that I would book the normal bus back at the hostel. Before this though I decided to visit Rockhamptons only attractions. These attractions aren't great, there are only three and 2 of them are mere curiosities. Rockhampton considers itself the beef capital of OZ and dotted about the place are huge model bulls; these were attraction number 1. After seeing a load of bull I took a rather long stroll to the tropic marker. It was really very unimpressive but I took a picture none the less and went and stood on the temperate side just to see if it was appreciably cooler (it wasn't). After this I crossed back in to the tropics and headed off to Rocky's botanical gardens. It seems that every town in OZ has a botanical garden and they are of varying sizes and qualities. Having visited the ones in Bundy which are rather small and dull I was immediately impressed by Rocky's huge gardens with their own zoo and Japanese garden. Having said hello to all the animals (including some very sad looking chimps) I started to feel I had been out in the tropical heat too long and so I set off back to the hostel stopping off on the way to buy dinner in the blissfully cool air conditioned supermarket.
When I arrived back at the hostel the lucky coincidences began. As soon as I entered my dorm I noticed that someone had moved in to the bunk beneath mine and I only paid special attention to this because amongst the stuff on the bed was a plastic bag from W.H.Smiths (an English shop). "Aha!" I think an Englishman. I then noticed the name written on the front of a travel diary and I recognised the hand writing which in combination with the first name (surnames are rarely used amongst backpackers) meant it could only be one man. I had first met Alex in Perth shortly after I arrived in OZ and I had bumped in to him again briefly in Pemberton (SW OZ). To bump in to people in this way is surprising but common, but to meet for a third time and this time some 7 months and several thousand miles later was something I had never expected. Later that day we met in person and caught up on what each of us had been up to since last we met. Now Alex had become acquainted with a Scottish girl staying at our hostel called Catrina and the three of us decided to share some wine together that evening to pass the time. I had not met Catrina before but she too was woven in to the tangled web that Fate was spinning for me; not that I could have known this at the time of course. Anyway the evening was a success and as Alex was moving on the next day to Airlie Beach I decided to join him on the bus, as did Cat. So next morning we got up early in spite of the previous nights excesses and boarded out bus. The bus incidentally was piloted by the most officious and verbose bus driver I ever hope to meet with a love of regulation that surpassed obsession. Anyway in due course we arrive in Airlie Beach. Airlie is another common stop for backpackers as they travel up the east coast. Not I might say because it has much to offer in itself. The town is pretty tiny and its only main street is full of hostels, bars, clubs, fast food places and travel shops. The reason most people go there is because it is the "gateway to the Whitsundays". The Whitsundays are a group of islands not far off the coast and are a major tourist attraction due to their natural (and so far not too spoiled) beauty and wildlife. Whilst its possible to stay on many of the islands in anything from a tent to a five star resort one of the most popular ways to explore them is on one of the many cruises available. These can be bought lasting a varying number of days and may include activities such as snorkeling, scuba diving and fishing. Alex was already booked on one such tour leaving the following afternoon and I was tempted to go on one myself. Only to do so would have left me a little too close to the bread line and in any case Fate had other plans. That night our merry little band had dinner together and the next day Cat and I said goodbye to Alex as he waited for his cruise to sail and we headed further north. Cat was heading for Ayr to meet up with a friend and as luck would have it she had (after extensive inquiries) wangled us a lift all the way there. This was great not only as it was cheaper than the bus but it also made a nice change. Now that was lucky enough in itself but there was more to come. You see Cat knew her friend was in Ayr in a caravan park and she hoped there would be only one. Unfortunately there were more than one and our inquiries at the first one told us that the chap we were looking for wasn't there. We were just deciding what to do when Cat spots some backpacker types and decides to ask if they know the chap. They did and in fact he was staying at that caravan park after all (the people in the office having being mistaken). So we checked in.
Ayr is another farming center only its smaller and duller than Bundaberg. Once again backpackers only go there to work. So I made some inquiries and immediately got a job starting the next day picking zucchinis.
And so that pretty much brings you all up to date. I worked the zucchini fields for just over 2 weeks until the season ended and now I am awaiting the start of the mango season. And that is as far as I know the end of my lucky streak. Of course if there is more good luck to come I will tell you all about it in Part 7.
Until then.
David.