Byron and Back Again
The first person I met when I arrived in Australia was more
stoned than the regular clientele of Medusa’s favourite Amsterdam coffee shop. We
played a game on his phone and he defeated me mercilessly despite my temperance. Then our
brief friendship came to an end. “Duuuude,” he drawled. “This was sick, dude,
but I’d better go. I need to meet my dealer.” His phone buzzed gently. The lock
screen was a leaf of sweet Mary Jane.
I was reminded of this encounter when I arrived in Byron Bay.
The stereotypical image, once a mere doodle in my mind, is filled in at the
edges and becomes as colourful as a sun-tanned tattoo. I had never seen a
dreadlocked mullet before going to Byron, but now I’d hardly give it a second
glance. Most people are barefoot, but the hair wraps and tie dye make up for
any lack of sole covering. On my final day, the white rastas got out their ukuleles
and bongos, dreadlocks enveloped in Santa hats, and performed an acoustic Christmas
Carol concert on the grass.
Byron Bay offers more than just people-watching. Surfing,
sea-kayaking, diving, and snorkelling are all on the to-do list, though I ticked
off only the last. At Julian Rocks I met a sea turtle and watched it dine on
jellyfish, but stayed far away from the rays lurking on the seabed. I burnt
myself at Belongil Beach, the quieter, nicer beach about a kilometer from the
town. A slow, hot walk to the Cape Byron Lighthouse and Australia’s easterly
point, passing as many beaches as it does, could fill a day. At the lighthouse I
scribbled a windswept postcard to my friends at Yarra, and at the easterly
point a school of dolphins frolicked in the glittering waves.
I’ve spoken a lot about the residence I’ve been living at
while studying in Australia. It’s been the source of most of the friendships I’ve
made while here, and certainly the ones I know I’ll keep when I’m gone. Res
life isn’t for everyone, but if you don’t mind a messy kitchen, thrive in a
busy, loud environment, and like to be surrounded by people, it’s for you.
(Tip: this year, floor 1 was the noisiest, floor 2 was the friendliest, and
floor 3 – mine – was the most peaceful.)
Take a look for yourself with our handy resident-made
virtual tour.
"Why are you eating her ice cream? Is stealing her food
some weird revenge?" "Well, they do say revenge is a dish best served
cold."
“I’ve been through a
lot. Even my scars have scars.”
“But the German for Ovulation is Eisprung. That means ‘egg
jump’. So the egg jumps between the
fallopian tubes, back and forth, and the sperm shoots it. Like Space Invaders. Right?”
“Empower: for women.
The new fragrance by Chappell.”
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