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After fun in the sun in Surfers Paradise it was time to move on, this time to Murwillumbah, a small town on the Tweed River and the main place where you can access Mount Warning. Before I left Surfers I thought it only fit to go for an early morning dip and then bake myself in the sun. Could life get any better than this?
Murwillumbah is a quintessential Australian country town; the facades of the shops are just how you expect them to be in Australia; there are numerous taverns and everyone is polite. The hostel itself sits by the river and the sun deck offers you views over the river and to the mountain which rises into the sky. It really is a beast, some 1157 metres high making it higher than any we have in the British Isles. It is also the first place in Australia which receives sunlight and thus it's a pretty special place.
The owner of the hostel is nicknamed 'Tassie' as he's the only Tasmanian resident in the area and maybe it's that fact which explains why he is probably the nicest and most helpful hostel owner I have ever met. Nothing was too much trouble for him and as he took me on a thirty second tour of the hostel it became clear that I would like this place. There are just two eight bed dorms, one for girls and one for boys, neither have locks on the doors. There are a few double rooms as well, but that's it except for a kitchen and a social area.
Feeling rather peckish I decided to head out and buy some food. The Australian in front of me in the queue at the checkout in Coles felt it necessary to drop in a comment about the cricket when he heard I was English to which I replied "Do you like rugby?" He nodded and I continued with the comment "Johnny's back so it's looking good for us again". He didn't say much more surprisingly before he left. The checkout girl just smiled and told me she wouldn't be asking about the cricket.
After a chilled night in the hostel eating pasta and chicken, and drinking Jim Bean, it was time to hit the sack. If you're wondering what Jim Bean is then let me enlighten you to one of the best inventions in the world. Australians produce whisky and coke in alluminium cans - you can buy these cans from bottle shops or in bars and clubs and they are cheap, dirt cheap. Jim Bean is the poor man's version of JD and coke, which you can also buy in a can. Fabulous stuff I can assure you.
On the Wednesday I decided to head back down river to Tweed Heads and to meet Caroline, the French-Canadian girl from Surfers. We were to meet to go surfing and rather worryingly, I was to be her instructor. We hired just the one board and spent three hours chilling out in the surf and drinking salt water. I did most of the drinking as random waves continued to catch me off guard much to the amusement of Caroline who was doing fairly well at the surfing lark. From there we headed for lunch at the local RSL. What this stands for I have no idea, but it is full of people over a certain age (won't comment too much for fear of offending people) but let's just say we were the youngest in there by some thirty years. The reason we headed here to eat and not one of the cafes was because the food here is apparently very good and cheap. And it sure was. I had a scrumptious turkey, cranberry and cheese sandwich for just over five bucks and a plate of wedges for the same price. It's a bargain and was very nice.
Due to the fact that one half of the town runs on Queensland time and the other runs buses on New South Wales time it was soon time to depart. We said our goodbyes and Caroline headed north and I headed west back to Murwillumbah where I spent the night eating chicken stir fry, washed down by Jim Bean before yet another bowl of free ice cream. I wouldn't want to come across as easy to please, but the ice cream was partly what persuaded me to visit this hostel.
Thursday was my last day in the hostel and before catching the late afternoon bus I had to go and conquer the mountain. You can probably guess who named the mountian, yep it was Cook and this time he did so to warn other sailors of problems out at sea. On the way to the mountain, Tassie took us on a guided tour of the local countryside which included driving past a rather posh suburb which now had a protected colony of fruit bats that went out hunting every night, making a rather loud racket before reutrning and doing the same thing throughout the early hours. You practically can't give the houses away there now as no one wants them due to the noise. We also drove past a banana plantation where they still use human workers and not machinery to harvest the crops. This is far more expensive, but necessary due to the incline of the hill in which the plantation is situated.
This is where it gets interesting; the bananas sold here are done so at a loss, the owner doesn't make any profit on them as he has to sell them at the same rate as the larger plantations in Northern Queensland, that is $6 a crate. Crazy you might think, but get this, every 8-10 years a cyclone rips through the plantations in Queensland, destroying 75% of the banana plantations in Australia. This instantly bumps up the price, and the only place that can really offer bananas is, well, you've guessed it, the guy at Murwillumbah who then sells the once $6 crates for a whopping $120! he makes enough money in that year to last until the next cyclone rips through the north.
The walk up the mountain is graded as 'strenuous' and I was to complete it with four girls from the hostel, one of which was especially annoying and claimed to be very fit. I set the early pace and lost most of the group and thus had to keep stopping every five minutes for them to catch up. Their conversation wasn't up to much so I just trudged on. The annoying one had a habit of either having done, or knowing someone who has done, everything that anyone ever discussed, and always to a better degree. She claimed to be good at running and mountain biking but by heck, she struggled on walking up the mountian. Let's just say I had a wry smile on my face as we apporached the final ascent which was a rock scramble. It was a beaut, as were the views from the top. You can see right across the coastline to the skyscrapers of Surfers and to the lighthouse and beach at Byron.
The climb was well worth the effort and after a snack at the top it was time to descend back to Tassie and my waiting transfer to the bus stop. Several of the group had failed to take enough water, the same people who had scoffed at me filling up two one-litre bottles earlier that day, and thus in the humid conditions, I decided to be a gentlemen and share the wealth. It also made my pack that little bit lighter.
My next stop was Byron Bay, an hours journey south back to the coast. It's somewhat of a mecca when it comes to surfing but fear not, I didn't partake here. The first night revolved around food, a much needed shower and a walk along the beach in the moonlight. When I arrived at the hostel I was greated by a woman who looked happy at the fact I was from 'God's county'. It transpired that she was from Sheffield and I thus was able to use the $4 an hour internet for an hour and pay just one dollar. It pays to be a Yorkshire lad! In fact everything was only $1 whilst she was serving me, no matter how long I used something.
Feeling refreshed and wide awake, Friday saw me doing the weekly wash early in the morning before hiring a mountain bike from the hostel. The bike usage is free and for as long as you want. let's just say Lance would have been proud at the array of Trek mountain bikes on offer, though he would have been less pleased as I made my way up to the lighthouse. The shirt was off, the sun tan lotion was on, I had music in my ears, and the sun balzed down on to me as I made an excruciating climb up to the top. I take pride in the fact that I have never gotten off my bike and walked up a hill, but boy, I nearly did here until I saw a group of tourists standing by the side of the road watching me on the final ascent. I was in the lowest gear possible as I turned the peddles round at a snail's pace. It was tiring but I made it to the top in one piece and
took fifteen minutes to recover. The lighthouse offers fabulous views along the coastline and you can see Mt Warning in the distance towering above all that surrounds it. You can walk from the lighthouse to a look-out point which is the most easterly point on the Australian mainland. The walk allows you to look down in to the surf of the Pacific, and it was here where I spotted a pod of dolphins diving through the waves. It was a pretty special sight. I also spotted mantarays and a turtle as I looked out over the pristine clear blue waters. It was a view to savour. I did the obligatory pose for the camera and then mounted my bike for the speedy descent back into Byron.
Back at the hostel I ran into a guy I met on my trip on Fraser Island, and he was heading out to watch the cricket. After a quick bite to eat I joined him and we celebrated England's victory by drinking copious amounts of VB. VB is the worst tasting beer ever, and I committed the number one cardinal sin by not drinking anything non-alcoholic during the night and thus, despite my best efforts at dancing to MC Hammer and 'Hammertime' along with other early 90's dance classics, I hit the sack knowing I was in for torture the next morning. My body didn't fail to deliver, and after trying to get as much H20 down my throat as possible and many little sleeps, I finally saw daylight properly at 2pm. It was whilst being hideously hungover that I vouched never to drink again, that was whilst praying to God and begging for forgiveness.
I spent the afternoon dozing on the beach before feeling refreshed and heading out with three Norwegian girls who I was sharing a room with. We met up with some of their friends who were hiring a rather plush pad on the beach front and proceeded to chill out and have a few drinks. I took it carefully before we headed onto a pub/club where there was a Jamaican reggae concert and I again had the opportunity to dazzle all with dance moves from the JG school of dancing. The jewel of the night though came when a random guy went wandering around the club at 2am holding his hand as a gun and 'firing' at random people. I think he thought he was James Bond as he rolled along the floor, hid behind furniture and 're-loaded' his weapon several times after firing at rather bemused individuals. I was also rolling around on the floor in laughter at the sight of this guy, classic.
On Sunday I left the hostel and travelled south yet again, this time to Coffs Harbour. When I arrived the sky was overcast and after dumping my bag, buying some food and meandering down to the beach, the heavens opened and didn't close for the rest of the day. The night was spent in a cramped TV room watching the cricket and The Bourne Supremecy, thankfully no alcohol was insight.
The next day the rain was still pouring from the sky and so my plans of lying on the beach and getting a tan were scuppered. I decided to don a surf top, hire a board and hit the surf. I was one of only a few in the water and I actually did okay, I managed to stand a couple of times and one in particular must have been for at least 3 seconds as I wobbled, arms outstretched and knees bent before falling off into the water. After an hour I decided to take a rest bite before heading back into the water for one last crack at the whip. it was whilst heading out that a dastardly wave caught me off guard and whipped my board up at my body, I managed to block the board but fell back into the water. I regained my footing just in time for a second wave to whip my board up and smash me on the side of the face causing me to fall back in the water. I think I used a rude word once or twice as I panicked at the thought that I had smashed my jaw and drawn blood. Thankfully, neither happened, but I tumbled back into shore with the board being dragged behind me, I decided my career as a surfer was probably over. The safety of the hostel's swimming pool appealed much more before a relaxing lunch followed by an afternoon of dvds and repeats of Top Gear.
My overnight bus didn't depart until after ten, and once on board I fell fast asleep. The journey wasn't the best and we arrived into Sydney on Tuesday two hours later than expected with yours truly suffering from the dreaded version of Australian man-flu. I dumped my stuff at the hostel and set off exploring. I stumbled over Darling Harbour on the western side of the main city and spent my time browsing around the harbour before heading back to the hostel for a much needed power nap. It was whilst walking back that I tripped over something imaginery on the floor causing my thong to snap and leaving me to walk the mile back to the hostel barefoot. I think the Yorkshire phrase for such a look is 'a right tramp'. I decided to play just dumb if anyone dare ask and say I was from Queensland, everyone in Queensland walks around barefoot so why should they be any different in Sydney?
The power nap turned into a long snooze as the effects of AMF (Australian Man Flu) took hold, and I eventually awoke to a long shower before another tramp around the city making sure to see all those sights I may never see again one last time. On the way back I stopped at Coles to refuel on just about every product on offer that contained oranges before cooking a pasta dish.
Trying not to be too arrogant but my chopping skills have come on a treat, and the best way to do it is to start talking to a fellow 'cook' whilst you chop up your stuff. If you can do the impossible, two things at once, then the person you are talking too can be mesmorised by your chopping skills as they chomp through their chopping. I have been asked if I am a cook twice since I've been here, but don't tell Nick as I'm not prepared to become researcher, proof-reader, removal man AND cook during my stay in Auckland.
Looking for a place to sit and eat, I decided to try my luck at a table with a guy in his thirties who was reading a book. After exchanging pleasantries, he proceeded to tell me every little detail about every little place he went in NZ, I didn't get a word in edge ways which is sure to shock some of you. I made a swift exit after finishing and hit the second orange of the day before heading to bed.
A mammoth ten hour sleep was spoilt by my alarm the next morning, and after having a hot orange drink along with yet more paracetemol, toast and another orange I headed out. My first port of call was the Rip Curl store to buy more thongs, then the Sydney Observatory to check on availability for visiting that night. Normal entrance on an evening costs $15 but since this was Valentines Day they were charging an extortinonate $75. How rubbish is that? After the best home-made burger in Sydney from a cafe on the Rocks, I headed out of the city and to Bondi to soak up the sun. Despite it no longer being holiday season the beach was still packed to the rafters.
From Bondi I headed back to the hostel to get cleaned up, drink yet more hot orange and take more paracetemol (I think I may have been gangsta trippin') before heading out to Circular Quay to meet Natalie, a girl I met at the wildlife park on Magnetic Island (Home to the randy Koala). Tonight's treat was simple, I was taking her to the Mecca that is Pancakes on the Rocks, yep, no visit to Syndey would be complete without a visit and since this was both our last night in Sydney, it was a must. I had tried to book the previous day but was told they were not taking bookings for groups less than eight, so we joined the loooonnnngggg queue (it stretched up two flights of stairs and out of the building) and chatted about our adventures up the East Coast. We eventually were seated, and feeling starving we both went for a main course before the pancakes. I had the tastiest pizza before the appropriately named 'Devil's Delight' pancake dish. To put it simply it had lots of chocolate, lots of strawberries, ice cream and pancakes.
Feeling stuffed (blunt I know) we headed up to the Sydney Observatory to check the view of the Harbour Bridge; the view is probably one not seen by many people as it's a little out of the way, but personally I prefer it to any other. It's a really picturesque spot, especially since it was getting late by this point and the bridge was illuminated. After a couple of photographs we strolled back along the harbour and through Hyde Park watching out for low flying bats. The night ended with us meeting some of Natalie's friends in a club; sadly my dancing when sober doesn't compare in the slightest to that of me after a few too many fizzy drinks, so my dancing to the Killers 'Mr Brightside' (yes, they really did play that) was not up to normal standards.
That leads me up to today, Thursday. After hitting the sack at half two this morning, I was up at half six to get myself organised and catch my bus to Canberra, the Australian Capital. A brief sleep on the uncomfortable bus hasn't really helped my sleep plight so as I type this my eyelids are closing rapidly, hopefully yours are not. The city is basically a sprawl of open space, fountains and buildings with important names. The sun was shining when I arrived so I headed up to Capital Hill and the swanky Parliament House. The building is very impressive and I even managed to get my way into the House of Representatives to watch the afternoon debate. Let's just say that Australian politicians obviously have a sense of humour and it seems much more interesting than watching his Tony-ness strut his stuff in the UK. From there I headed back down to
Burley Griffin Lake, the Captain Cook Memorial Jet and the National Corrilion (if you don't know what a corrilion is then where have you been?). From there I wandered up ANZAC parade and to the Australian War Memorial which was rather impressive, especailly the tomb where they have an unknown soldier buried. The walls of the tomb are adorned with small mosaic tiles, each one has been individually placed and together they look amazing. It's hard to describe it and do it justice at the same time, but it was a fitting surrounding for such a place.
So here I am, typing away at my computer awaiting my bus departure at about midnight. My final destination on the grand tour of Eastern Australia is Melbourne where I should arrive at 8am to be met by my long lost cousin Tess. Not seen her since I was four of five so this could be interesting. All I know is that she intends to take me out drinking in Melbourne and to see all her friends - basically it's yet another case of living the dream, awesome. I hope Melbourne is ready for the JG's arrival and the dancing that comes with it.
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