Surfin' Byron Bay

I've always harboured a secret belief that I'd be pretty okay at surfing. It looks pretty easy, right? I'm comfortable in the ocean, can balance okay and seem to be able to swim. Sorted, what else do you need to surf?

Hmm.

The more I spoke to people out here the more my confidence in my future potential skill dropped. It seemed like surfing might not be something I'd pick up right away. Surfing, apparently, is rather difficult to pick up.

Byron Bay is the home of surf schools in Australia so I couldn't live here and not have a lesson. Waking up one morning, still drunk from the previous evening, I decided that today would be the day. With goon still boiling in my blood stream this seemed like one of the best ideas I'd ever had (and I once decided to sleep sitting up so I woulnd't have to re-do my hair and makeup the next day .True story. It didn't work).

Unfortunately about an hour after booking my lesson I sobered up, fell asleep and had to drag myself to the lesson with my head swimming as much as my stomach. I was about to learn to surf, a sport that requires quite a large amount of physical exertion, on the crest of my hangover as it broke and churned through my body and brain.

In other words, I could've picked a better day.

Things started well, on dry land. It turns out I surf 'goofy' with my feet the wrong way around. With sand under my board I popped up and down like a pro until my legs were wobbly and I tried to micro nap as the instructor was talking about rip currents. Jesus, I was already exhausted and we weren't even wet yet. We had to do yoga to limber up. Yoga. I needed to be eating bacon and watching Gossip Girl in bed, not bloody exercising.

Getting out was harder than surfing. My leg rope thing wasn't quite long enough to allow me to move my back leg as I held the front of the board. Cue me half hopping, half lurching Quasimodo-like into the breaking waves. Oh, I thought, this bodes well.

I almost got up on my first wave. On my second I stood for a total of two seconds before plummeting arse first into the water. My third wave tipped me in after I tried to avoid a fellow student. But on my fourth wave I did it. I stood up, properly. In my head I had quicksilver calling to sponsor me. Not once did I wobble or worry, maintaining a perfect position until I stepped off the board when the water was ankle deep. Perfect.

Hmm. Never had the phrase 'peaking too soon' been used so well. Subsequent attempts saw me standing for a few seconds at most; on one particular try I went from crouching to kneeling to hitting the water head first in one beautifully elegant movement.

"Yeah," quipped Simon my instructor, " I thought you were too far forward, but figured it'd be funny to watch you fall in."

Cheers mate.

Worry not, I dealt with the whole experience with typical good humour. I mean, come on, it's bloody hilarious when people fall over even when 'people' is you. And I did manage to stand up slightly more towards the end, a whole 3 seconds at one point!

As the lesson concluded everyone else got out of the ocean but I was beckoned back in for one last go. I was thirsty, exhuasted and my legs felt burned to ash from battling to get out through the breakers. With the beach watching Simon asked me to hop on for one last try. I heard him yell, "Dude remember that you're AWESOME,"  as he pushed me through the foam.

I'd like to conclude this post by saying that I rode the wave triumphantly towards the shore, fists pumping to the sound of cheers but that would be a fabrication. I fell off almost instantly and almost couldn't stand back up from laughing. It seems I don't flourish under pressure.

My problem obviously stems from scuba diving; I want to be under waves not on them. And being hungover too. Not my fault. Ahem. I doubt I'll ever be a sunstreaked blonde with salt behind her ears up at dawn to catch waves but I'm going to go back and try again. Why? Because although I failed miserably it was a lot of bloody fun. Oh, and because some comfort came from Simon in the pub later on: "You're not the worst person we've ever had, honestly!"

I'd like to test that theory.

Catching up

So I've not really blogged about post Christmas, mostly because my laptop is so slow that uploading pictures is actually quite painful to do. I've still got Blue Mountains, food poisoning and fireworks, and my brithday to go just to give you a taster (bet you can't wait eh?. Of course, I'm now back to my 'real life', or as real as living seconds from one of the best beaches in Australia can be anyway.

That's right, I'm back at Wicked travel helping backpackers to plan their trips. I was, obviously, so good at my job that when someone from the Byron Bay branch left I got rehired. Nothing to do with how long it would take to train a newbie of course...

After a brilliant birthday week I said a tearful goodbye to my little sister and hopped on the greyhound up north. Initially I'd planned to camp with Bridget, but after two nights on a rollmat being solicited for drugs, and realising that I could get a discounted hostel room, we moved into town. So now on the mornings that I wake up before my alarm I go down to the beach and have a little spalsh before heading to the daily grind.

How's the snow?

True to form I arrived in Byron with an empty bank balance but after a 60 hour week I'm now financially solvent again and ready to cause drunken mischief...well until January 31st anyway.

That's right guys I'M GIVING UP ALCOHOL IN FEBRUARY. There. It's on the internet now. I can't go back.

Rather than drinking my money away I'm going to put it towards saving and surf lessons. My weekend next week will be a trip to Nimbin and my first attempt to stand up on a board. *Cue hilarious situations*
So there you go, a catch up. What's new with you?

Crikey - it's Christmas!

 

As you all know, Christmas at home is usually celebrated inside with the heating cranked up to eleven. Not for us this year, we were off to the beautiful Byron Bay! Thankfully we were only a short hop down and found the time to head to Woolies and stock up on all the Christmas essentials - meat, beer and goon. We didn't die/get pulled over in the van of death and made it to Byron in time to spend a couple of hours on the beach. It's a hard life, eh?

 



 

Then it was back to the van for dinner (meat) and drinks. We set up our lovely aussie Christmas tree - isn't it enormous? That's what she said

 

Of course Chris had his cooler, a fitting tribute to a trailblazing conservationist.

 

 

And the rest of us had our santa hats! Deciding that Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without a trip to the pub we traipsed into town hit Woody's Surf Shack for more drinks and dancing. At about 3am (we're not sure) we decided to walk back to our little campsite, kebabs from the brilliantly named "Abra-Kebab-bra" shoved into our hungry mouths.

 

We woke the next day sans hangover, and Chris got down to the important business of cooking breakfast. In lieu of any presents, we had bright blue skies. I found this deal to be acceptable.

 

Happily, on our way to the beach we discovered a surf rental place and got ourselves some bodyboards. Not that we could use them for the frist hour - the beach got shut because a 3.5m great white was cruising around the bay... Apparently he lives here, but they like to keep an eye on him and he managed to disappear. I guess even sharks need their Christmas lunch!

 

It didn't take long after they repoened the beach for us to run into the water all guns blazing. A very happy few hours were spent catching some waves, getting pummeled by others and topping up our tans. Unfortunately we all topped them up a little bit too high and got a smidge sunburned... Another Christmas first!

 

 

Then it was back to the campsite for Christmas dinner and Bridget's first experience of Christmas crackers. We were joined by our friend Danny who we met on our diving trip - and excellent buddy both in and out of the water :)

 

Foolishly thinking we didn't have too much food we dug in with enthusiasm, only for us to barely finish everything with extremely full tummies. I couldn't even finish my corn on the cob. Managing to cook a dinner using nothing but a crappy electric BBQ and tiny gas stove was quite the achievement though; after all that effort we couldn't let anything go to waste!

 

Tash and I were very lucky to get to spend the day together - not every backpacker gets to have Christmas with their family.

 

As night fell and we grew sleepier, the idea of walking 3km back into town with a heavy eskie lost it's appeal. Lots of sun and food made us fairly lethargic, shocker, although we did find the time to play with sparklers!

 

Boxing day dawned grey and rainy, the only upside being that we hadn't had the weather for Christmas day. But did we let that stop us from using our boards before we had to hand them back? Of course not! It was actually lots more fun than on Christmas day - the break was nicer and there were very few swimmers. Thinking that we'd probably be desperate to get out of the ocean after an hour, we were actually very disappointed to end our surf-y session and hand back the boards.

 

After a hot shower we came into town to have a mooch around. Byron is gorgeous, packed full of little cafes and shops but also boasting some excellent nightlife. The rain did hinder us somewhat but as it looked to clear we decided to drive up to the famous Cape Byron lighthouse - the most easterly point of Australia.

 

Well, it did seem like a very good idea at the time. Until we looked up to see a literal wall of rain heading our way.

 

Snapping pictures as fast as we could before the rain came, we misjudged and left it too late. Monsoon style droplets drenching us in seconds.

 

It was worth it though, because we saw a goat! A random goat! ...Who turned out to be not so random and quite famous... Apparently there used to be lots of goats by the lighthouse but they were removed in 2005; now 'wategoat' wanders, alone, around the cape. Poor goat!

 

Looks quite nice, when it's not pissing it down.

 

 

Soaked to our skin and with the rain showing no signs of abating Chris cooked dinner as we huddled in the van. He prepared a three course meal - soup, eggy bread with beans and tinned peaches - which we devoured in minutes. Something about that fresh sea air...

 

Tinned peaches - take that Gordon Ramsey!

 

Finding enough amusement in our own company and a pack of cards (no one explained to me that you couldn't bluff when playing 'go fish') we drank, got merry and laughed ourselves silly.

 

All I'm going to say guys, is don't look at Chris' snake eyes...

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!