Surf. Ice Cream. Sleep. Repeat

When we woke up in the peaceful quiet of Tambourine Mountain, we got into gear and then went to the Tambourine Mountain Distillery right as soon as the gates opened. Contrary to popular belief, we don’t have a drinking problem, we are just in a perpetual search for unique bottles of liquor for Steve’s bar. The distillery was like a little down in Germany, A-frame buildings with brown trim, a fountain and a tree that was flowering delicate purple blooms.

Every inch of the bar was plastered with old world Russian memorabilia and Christmas decorations. We sipped on a few vodkas: lemon myrtle, lemon myrtle and citrus, and eucalyptus. Of the liqueurs, we tasted: fig and green tea, Australian herbal, and some form of toffee. All were delicious, but we left with a bottle of the Australian Herbal concoction under the arm.

From here, we drove straight to Surfer’s Paradise. While en route, the radio broadcaster announced that Justin Beiber was in town! Instantly, I got my hopes up with ideas of meeting the Canadian pop star, getting a picture with him, and becoming the coolest primary teacher ever. When we got into town, we checked into the Surf n’ Sun, and walked around to get our bearings. Satisfied, we made dinner back at the hostel and relaxed in our room that night watching Hangover II.

In the morning, Tim lived the hedonistic lifestyle of surfing and tanning by the pool, while Steve and I sought out an accountant to complete our taxes. Unfortunately, our accountant had a "sense of humour", and we were stuck behind his desk nodding and chuckling for over an hour. Then we split up to do some secret Christmas shopping, and met back up with Tim at the hostel for lunch. The lazy afternoon consisted of us going to the beach; me to tan, the boys to swim. When we got back to the hostel, the boys engaged in an exciting game of pool-volleyball while I tried to soak up a few late afternoon rays.

That night we ate a hearty meal of chicken-pesto-pasta in preparation for the club-crawl. In our private flat, we had British couple who were also going to the club-crawl. Naturally, we all pre-drank together, learning their version of ’21,’ before we met up with the rest of the group.

We were bused downtown, wristbands on and free drink tickets in hand. Over the course of the night, we visited Melbas, The Beer Gardens, Vanity, and Sin City. The latter being the bar where the Beibs had last been spotted, and where his DJ was playing that week. By this point, we had all had quite enough of drinking and partying, and made for home. Steve and I took the long way back along the beach, but in doing so missed allllll of the fast food options and went to bed with hungry tummies. No burgers, and no Beiber.

Checkout the next morning was at 10am. We woke up at 9:58. We scrambled as much as we could, but it turned out to be okay, since the staff was just as hung over as we were.  Steve and I frolicked in the waves to shock our systems back to normal. The current was actually so strong, that sometimes he had to grab my hand to save me from going out to sea! After a greasy feed, we left Surfers’ and drove directly to Byron Bay.

As soon as we got into town, we felt the good vibes. It seems as if the city was full of ‘stylish-hippies,’ and surfers (and the dreaded schoolies that seem to be everywhere at the moment!!) We paid our dues at the First Sun Holiday Park and wasted the evening away relaxing. We eventually got some snacks and brought them back to the Great White to eat them and watch an episode of BBC’s Life.

The next morning, Tim went surfing while we ate breakfast. Afterwards, Steve and I went swimming and I managed to do the shortest workout of life along Main Beach. Since the surf wasn’t the greatest, we moseyed downtown and slurped ice coffees at a small café. More of the usual followed, shopping around, grabbing a roll or two at the sushi train restaurant Konoko, and then back to the van for dinner.

While stuffing our pie-holes, it started to rain. Earlier in the day we had found a small café that rented hooka. Since we were still feeling pretty lazy, and not much like partying, we waited until a break in the rain, and then ran to the café. In the soft light, we sipped on an apple-rose combination and watched the passersby. When we returned to base, we watched another BBC Life episode and slept to the drumming of the raindrops.

By morn, the rain was still falling. Soft and gray, it was hard to get out of bed.  Steve noticed that the ocean was very calm and had perfect sets of small waves rolling in. Ideal for beginners like us. We all enjoyed a few go’s on the board, and had hot showers to bring our blood temperate. I separated from the boys and went shopping, and went to a 2 hour yoga session while they did a grocery shop.  That night, Steve took me on a date to the sushi place, and then we got Gelati and strolled on the beach. On the way back to the van, we ran into two of the Swedish Angels – the Hannas! We made plans with them for the next day – our last in Byron.

We met them at 10 and headed over the Byron Sunday Market. I could have spent a fortune on small hippie trinkets and treasures, and we were all having a great time people watching. After treating ourselves to some wraps from “The Middle East Feast,” we hugged our Hannas goodbye and hit the road.

Arriving in Nimbin was a bit of a culture shock; or should I say counterculture shock. Nimbin is a small forested town overrun by old hippies and alternative-lifestyle lovers. The people-watching was out of this world! We had an ice cream and observed the funky townies in all their glory, and then took a walk through their ‘trippy’ museum.  We camped that night at Granny’s Farm, threw on the Primates episode of BBC’s Life, and hit the hay early.

The next day we put some kilometers between us and Nimbin, and ended up at a free campsite called Bloodwood Ridge Rest Area, just outside of Port Macquarie.