East Coast Expedition: Bouncing Through Byron Back To Sydney

Feb 1, 2011

I woke in my hostel bed in Brisbane, refreshed for the final leg of my trip. I decided that I would spend the day in Byron Bay before climbing on a night bus back to Sydney. This was my second time in Byron Bay. If you rewind your memories (or back track through my blogs) you will recall that Natasha and I spent a day of our Christmas vacation there. It was the hippie, Woodstock-like town located on the coast that radiated rainbows and fuzzy warm things. I had liked it there so much the first time, that I wanted to go again. I arrived around noon and stood at the bus stop weighed down by the heavy load of bags I was carrying. I was pleased that it was a gorgeous day out, but I wasn't too fond of the sweat that I was starting to perspire. There was no way I was going to enjoy a leisurely afternoon in Byron with all this crap dangling off my back and arms. I could barely haul it off the bus nonetheless carry it around town all day. Normally, I would check into a hostel and leave my stuff in a secure place there, but because I was taking a night bus home I hadn't reserved a hostel room. I needed a solution, and fast.

Suddenly, a lightening bolt of genius hit me smack dab in the head. I achingly dragged myself a few blocks away to the hostel Natasha and I had stayed in a few months prior. When we had checked out, they let us store our baggage in a secure luggage room. All we had to do was ask for the key. Logic told me that if I politely asked for the key now they would hand it over, no questions asked. How would the front desk person know that I wasn't a current hostel guest? Luckily for me, she didn't. First, I snuck into the bathroom (which fortunately didn't require a key to get into) and changed into my bathing suit. A swim was necessary on a hot day like this. Then I hid my luggage around the corner, approached the reception desk nonchalantly, and asked if I could have the key to the luggage room. And voila! Just like magic the keys were in my hand. Am I smart, or am I smart? I felt like I was some spy on a top secret mission. Mrs. James Bond in action. I stealthy slipped around the corner, grabbed my bags and tossed them in the luggage room. Then I handed the keys back to the receptionist, flashed my pearly whites and wished her a nice day. I skipped down the road all the way back to town, whistling as I went.

After strolling the streets and nifty shops, and munching on a macadamia nut white chocolate muffin and sushi (an odd but scrumptious combo, when eaten separately) I made my way down to the beach for a swim. The sun had grown hotter, and the sweat was now tumbling off my body. It was time for a cool down. Byron Bay beach was lovely. I enjoyed drifting with the waves for a while, basking in the memories of my incredible past  few months of travel. I probably could have stayed there for hours, but lo and behold some dang jellyfish began to creep up on me. Chances are they were harmless, but then again in Australia the chances are also pretty good that they are lethal.  I had no intention of getting stung and/or killed by a deadly boxer jelly fish on my last day of travels, so I battled my way through the rough ocean currents back to shore where I resumed my reflective lounging on the beach.  Once dry, I decided to walk up to the Byron Bay lighthouse. Natasha and I had attempted to do this, but somehow managed to failed back in December. Despite following the signs that said "Lighthouse this way" we ended up at the bottom of the cliff that the lighthouse was perched atop. I was determined to make it this time. I quickly realized, however, that determination is only a part of the equation. Knowing where you're going is the other half, and I did not know where I was going. How foolish of me to assume that I would miraculously reach the lighthouse by following the same signs that had lead Natasha and I astray the first time. I won't drag this on folks, I failed again. Somehow I ended up back on the beach beneath the lighthouse. It's quite embarrassing actually. How is it that I can manage to navigate my way across all of New Zealand, both the north and south islands, and down the east coast of Australia with no trouble at all yet I can't find my way up a measly path to a lighthouse? Can someone please explain this to me, because I was and still am baffled. All I can reason is that someone decided to play a lighthearted prank on us backpackers and turned the "Lighthouse this way" signs in the wrong direction. That must be it, because I refuse to believe I am that stupid or incompetent. Where's a GPS when you need it?

I spent the rest of the evening doing my least favorite activity: you guessed it, waiting. Once back from my unsuccessful hike, I transformed into Mrs. Bond again and retrieved my luggage from the hostel. Then I spent a couple of hours at the bus stop waiting for my final Greyhound bus to come pick me up and take me back to Sydney. On board, I curled up in my seat like a baby and dozed the entire length of the ten hour trip. When I opened my eyes and peered out the window I saw none other than the Sydeny Opera House standing majestically in the distance. I broke into a smile and sighed. It was good to be back.