Next, I set off to Byron Bay in search of my dream of praticing yoga there on the beach. Byron is famous world-wide for its hippie lifestyle and laid-back vibe. It's a shame that the town itself is a bit of a tourist/yuppie trap (but then again...I'M a tourist, so I'll bit my tongue on that point!). However, the place still holds the feel of magic which I had always imagined it to have.
Andrea selflessly offered to drive me to Byron on her day off, which I readily accepted. We explored the town, ate delicious and authentic dumplings and gyoza from a Chinese shop (go figure!) and then continued on to what would be my hostel for the next few days: The Arts Factory (a subsidiary of Nomads). It was raining pretty consistently, but it didn't matter as there was so much to do at the hostel. First, a bushwalk with the crazy, but strangely loveable, Cokcatoo Paul. This guy looked like he'd walked straight out of the wilderness with his bare feet, feathers hanging from his rattail, and his ever-present pet cockatoo (and thus his nickname). He showed us survival skilss and bizarre facts about the environment, even within the hostel grounds. He was the real deal!!
At night, Shane and Willy (whom I'd met on Magnetic Island), Joe and Joss (my new firends from the Arts Factory teepee room...yes, we slept in a gian teepee!), and I watched the (incredibly talented!) talent show. No joke, I would have bought most of these musicians' cds on the spot. Blake Nobel was a particular favorite: he didn't sing, but he drummed his guitar as he strummed it! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzFmgj-_iig This youtube clip was taken during a bluesfest busking competition and I was actually standing right behind the guy that filmed it!) The night then got even better as the crowd from the talent show made its way to the Jungle Hut in the hostel's campsite. The gazebo's 4 corneres housed separate make-shift jam sessions: jim-bays (sp?) in one corner, guitar in another, a tin whistle's melody heard floating above the din of music. A guy and a girl even began playing the plastic rubbish bins! (I felt like I was at a STOMP concert!) And the beautiful feature about this scene was that every separate rhythm and instrument melded into one. I would dance to bongos on one side of the hut which matched the melody of a guitar on the opposite side! The night wore on and the sound grew as if on waves which washed over the crimson glow of the open-air Jungle Hut. In the end, the energy of it overwhelmed me and I retreated to my teepee bed to revel in the unbelievable amount of talen that could be found in one tiny space of the world!
As an example of this, I will now relate a rather embarrassing story to you. One evening as I was lounging on my bed in the teepee, a guitar melody and a harmony of male voices drifted to me. I got up and followed the music as if in a trance. It didn't take me long to discover 2 happy-go-lucky males sitting on the dryers in the laundry room, singing 'Road Trip' and 'Take a Load Off Annie' to pass the time while their clothes dried. I sat on a dryer myself and listened in bliss with 2 other passerbys. AFter a few more tunes and basic introductions and small talk (establishing that the two musicians were from Vancouver Island), a German bystander asked them to play a song of their own. Vince, the one on the row of dryers to the right, offered up "The Costa Rica song?", and his co-musician agreed. As soon as they began playing ["Let's leeeave this place and goooo to Costa Rica..."] I silently judged these two as liars, as I had heard the song before back in Vancouver! This revelation I saved until later during a private chat with Joss, Joe, and Vince where I confronted him with, "Sooo why did you say that you wrote that Costa Rica song? I know you didn't write it cuz I've heard it before." That's when Vince smiled a smile that only an innocent man could smile (and which made my certainty of accusation falter), and said, "Yah, you've heard it because you're from Vancouver and I won a radio contest there with that song. I'm Vince Vaccaro and I wrote it." [Insert "Katie's humiliating epic failure of accusation" here]. I then asked, like a bumbling idiot, "Soo, are you famous?" (whispering the last word like you'd whisper the word 'bomb' on a plane). He replied, "Yes, but only in Vancouver, haha!" ....And I struggled to repress my urge to ask for a photo with him....idiot.
[Here's the music video with Vince for 'Costa Rica': http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=deVpimIEvGg]
Moving on to happier, less embarrassing subjects....the next day finally produced beautiful sunshine. I used this good weather to attempt a walk to the nearest Salvation Army with the objective of satisfying my growing urge to accumulate some sort of wardrobe. However, I didn't realize this walk was about 3 kms one way under the blazing sun. And so I gratefully hitch-hiked back in an air-conditioned vehicle (where I was offered a job as a tuk-tuk biker, and regretfully declined), then haphazardly walked through town to the famous lighthouse. In the end, my efforts paid off and the hike was worth the beautiful views from the top of the hill, as well as the stroll back along the picturesque beach, relaxing in the misty airs of Byron Bay. The day culminated with meeting up with the 'crew' (Joss, Joe, Shane, Willie, Amy, and Robin) to head out for a night of debauchery and picnic table dancing at the legendary Cheeky Monkeys.
The next day brought a very unique experience: a day-trip to Nimbin, the pot capital of Oz. I took Happy Coach Tours (highly recommended!), with Joss, Joe, Willy, and Shane, a handful of strangers, and our very 'out-there' and crazy (but again, loveable) tour guide, Taylor. Nimbin proved to be everything it was famous for: a tourist trap town centred completely around weed. Shop names like "Bring-a-Bong", grannies asking you if you'd like some pot cookies, and (my personal favorite), the Nimbin museum, showcasing and documeting the town's history with marijuana. This museum takes about 30 seconds to just walk through its 5 rooms, but literally hours to absorb every detail on its walls, floors, and ceilings. A few decades ago, some Australian students decided that they would rebel the rules and demonstrate for the legal use of marijuana. These demonstrations in Nimbin soon earned attention. The man who started the museum began by gathering material associated with Nimbin and marijuana use, ....and his collection doens't seem to have stopped! Newspaper clippings, religious quotes, famous sayings, a phrase said in passing by the old geezer down the street, psychedelic paintings, VW vans bursting half there bodies out of the walls and floors, how-to-grow-your-own-pot infomercials....and everything in between. It was a cluttered collection of epic proportions with knick knacks from every facet of life because, as one quote read, "Life is the real trip." And so, if your trip brings you to Nimbin, this museum is a must-see.
Byron Bay: you took my breath away. Nimbin: you made me laugh. Thank-you both.
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