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The first impression I got from Byron bay, and some may disagree, that it was a cross between Noosa and airlie beach. Driving through it, with the little seaside shops and bars, it had the chilled out atmosphere of airlie but he the nightlife there if you wanted it. However it had the beautiful beach nearby that you could swim and surf in, much like Noosa. It also had the ridiculous price tag that Noosa had ($32 a night - do they think I'm made of money!). One of the hostels called holiday village, was the same price as the rest of them but had free surf board hire. Keen to test out my new talent, I thought this was the place for me! I settled into my new room for the next 3 days and went to the nearest travel agent to look into completing a skydive whilst in Byron, as I heard its one of the most beautiful bits of scenery to see from the plane, minus the great barrier reef. I booked it for the next morning at 6:15am!!! Due to his clever talking magic the tour agent had convinced me to do it first thing as the 'conditions were better' so I paid up and went back to the hostel to celebrate (and panic slightly). A few hours later, I had forgot the tiny detail of the skydive and was downing my 5th beer. O dear. I climbed into bed with my two Swedish roommates trying to get me to drink more, fully aware that in a couple of hours time I'd be thrown out of an aeroplane at 14000ft.
The next morning I woke up at 5:45am too nervous to be hungover. Adrenaline was surging through my veins so powerfully that no amount of alcohol the night before would have had any effect. I got picked up by the van and discovered there were a large variety of us doing the jump that day, from an 6ft 8 eighteen-year-old german to a tiny middle aged Brazilian woman. We did all the usual forms to fill out to say that we're not going to sue if we fall to our deaths and we got kitted out in the harnesses which, as jump-time drew closer, looked too flimsy for my liking. I was in group one, typically, and so would be jumping out of the first plane. I met my tandem partner, a lovely german chap called stefan, who loved to slip in little jokes about needing to swim if the plane crashes. I was not particularly amused. The plane was tiny, just a small propeller powered thing that looked like it had been plucked from a toddlers hands, but they managed to squeeze 15 of us in the back. I had to cosy up to poor stefan who was getting the brunt of my fear, while he strapped me into his own harness. I made he triple check it. I mean, he had only done it for 25 years, what did he know? An extra guy called matt was with us to take my photos on the way down and he was doing his best to get me excited, not scared of what was about to happen. Despite my nervous being in tatters I was still able to appreciate the breathtaking scenery surrounding byron bay. The travel agent back on solid ground was right, early in the morning had been the perfect time to do it. The sun was up but still low enough to cast beautiful colours over the ocean and the air was so crisp and fresh that you wanted to bottle it up and save it for later when you knew the atmosphere would become heavy and humid.
But no matter how much I tried to put off the inevitable, the plane was still climbing- 4000ft...6000ft...11000ft...until eventually we had reached 14500ft and I got a reassuring squeeze on my shoulder. Two other tandem skydivers went before me, each one leaving a lingering and terrifying scream as they fell smoothly towards the earth below. Stefan calmly turned to me at this point and said 'we're going to fall like stones'. Thanks stefan. The last thing I consciencely remember doing was looking up at matt with the camera and shook my head, convinced that there was no way they would make me jump. But before the words 'I don't want to' had left my mouth, stefan had shuffled us to the hatch of the plane so I was dangling feet first out towards the 14000ft gap between us and the land below. There was no going back. I thought I was going to die. My face in the photos say it all. The initial rush was the worst, the feeling of your stomach shooting up to the back of your throat, but after a few seconds if just felt as if you were floating so I stuck my arms out and just enjoyed every second of it (90seconds to be precise). It was easily the most scarily enjoyable thing I've done to date. The excited rush of air as you plummet to the ground was incredible and all the scary thoughts and doubts are blown out of your head as you, as stefan so nicely put it, fall like a stone. After the exhilarating freefall it was time to put the parachute up. With the harness rubbing in places I've never even seen before, it wasn't the most comfortable trip down but stefan let me steer the parachute which was pretty cool. This was my time to contemplate what had just happened and the take in the view from a height I'd never openly been before. I could see right down the gold coast, spotting the tall skyscrapers of Surfers paradise and the haunting mountains surrounding it. As soon as I landed on my bum, gracefully as ever, I wanted to hop back up and do it all again. I was hooked. We took off all our kit and had a look at the video matt had made of the trip. I had the biggest smile on the face that morning and it wasn't even 9am by the time I got back from the hostel. It was only then, when the adrenaline had worn off, that i realised I was like the walking dead and sent myself off to bed for a few hours.
When I woke up I took myself off to the beach to check the surf (get me!) which was crap so I chilled out and sunbathed for a few hours waiting for the girls to arrived from Surfers paradise. That evening the hostel had a BBQ night, similar to few of the past hostels I'd been to. However, at this one there were about 100 people and a whole lot of drinking games, including new friends and old. It was amazing how many people I knew from my travels down the east coast. After gorging ourselves on BBQ food (I naturally out-ate everyone) we hit a backpackers bar called Woodys and then on to Cheeky Monkeys. It was an awesome way to end my day after an impressive beginning.
Waking up was hard work the next day and it didn't help that the Swedish girls got up at the crack of dawn and made enough noise to wake the dead. We got up made decided to make the most of the free surf boards, surf or no surf. As it was the surf was worst than the day before but we made the most of it anyway. I was rubbish on this surf board. I couldn't catch the wave and when I did I either nose dived or slipped right off the board. After 2 hours in the water I was exhausted and came out of the water down heartened but determined to be good at it eventually. Poor grace was not feeling too good so I checked up on her and the girls were off to have a good nights sleep. After chilling out in the hostel for a bit and we headed over to Cheeky Monkeys for the third night running to watch the pub games which included a heads or tails strip game and an aeroplane making competition. I made it quite a early night (compared to the last two).
The next day Grace was feeling better so all three of us (including Poppy) rented bicycles from the hostel and decided to ride to the lighthouse off Byron bay, which is the most weston point in Australia. The bikes looked like they were made in the 1800s and rode like dutch bikes ie they brake when you cycle backwards, something I struggled to gasp. I can't remember the last time I rode a bicycle! Not only that but none of them had gears making the uphill rides especially tricky. Grace actually fell into a tree scratching her feet to death when going down a steep hill to the beach. We left our antiques locked up to trees and hiked by foot up to the lighthouse, a journey that made me sweat more I ever have in my life. The views from the top of the cliffs were incredible and the wind on the top was a welcomed blessing. They had a small museum in the lighthouse itself which would have been more interesting if I didn't have the ocean pouring out of my face. We stopped for a much needed ice cream and made our way down the hill for a refreshing dip in the sea. We rode back still wet, developing interesting chafe marks, had a shower and headed over to Cheeky Monkeys for the last time for dinner. At around 9pm it was eventually time for me to leave the girls and head over to the bus stop to catch the greyhound to Sydney. Saying goodbye was definitely harder than I thought, as I had been travelling with the girls for half my time in Australia and as much as I've taken care of them, they've taken care of me too. My sadness for leaving them however soon turned into dread as I approached the bus stop. What kind interesting night is this going to be?
- comments
JOHN ARROWSMITHJ GREAT STORY KATIE
Jackie Parsons love it katie! byron is my 2nd home - me and matt got married at the pass last november. Enjoy the rest of your travels...jackie from uni xx