Byron Bay, New South Wales
After walking through Kings Cross with my rucksack at 10pm, dodging the drunken crowds & the strip club bouncers, I made it to the Greyhound coach terminal in one piece. Some cruel b***** at the hostel told me Greyhound buses provided free wifi. That person lied. This meant thirteen hours with no internet connection, on a coach packed full of sweaty, smelly, restless travellers. I worked out it's like travelling from Bournemouth to the Highlands of Scotland, ...