Byron Bay

Another day, another blog..after how many months? Whoops, sorry.

A weekend in Byron sounds a dream. Blather of this spot sounded like hippy central, a locale where you can feel like you belong no matter who you are. As soon as we crossed the border from Queensland the instant impact of greenery struck me at a stroke. The overcast weather set the empathetic scene as we hopped out of the car in Byron Bay. A fresh aroma of coffee beans hovered the air as we ambled over to the ocean, a soft simmer of waves poured over the beach lining.

Not even a second into it, an elderly man stood dancing gracefully with a hoola hoop in a pink peace top. It was splendid. Being there with my favourite people made it even better as we strolled over to a small cafe. Somewhat many milkshakes and chips later, we were finished and dowsing ourselves in clothes from tiny shops and handmade jewelry. We headed up to the lighthouse at the top of the hill. The grand pile of white bricks stood at the very top effortlessly supplying the boats with light after twilight. It was a tall structure, large columned entry ways and thick splinter riddled wooden doors stood in front of the vivid blue ocean ahead of us. From a far distance, the deep, vast emerald hinterland crept behind the thin mist that made the sight mystical.

On the night we spent hours tucked in bed watching Sex in the City One and Pretty Woman, to wake up in the morning to the beautiful echoes of birds chiming rhythms. I slid my finger through one rift of the blind, bending it as I adjusted my eyes to the small slit of light. Behind my window was a tall palm tree that devoured the wind in its fragile stems.

It was Sunday. Markets were on and the clouds glimmered with bright rays of sun that would soon clear to an empty blue sky. Slow indie music played as I went from stall to stall around the hippy endured sales. Handmade hats and $5 bags was enough to keep me there for long, until we came across THE Byron Bay Doughnut truck. I bought 3 ( not all for me, silly ) each for a friend as i exchanged money to the girl at the cash register she chucked 3 huge, warm cinnamon flavoured rings at me. With enough already for me to carry we felt the need to sit down in front of a small jam of a band. Life was great, I swung my baby pink Polaroid out with 4 photos left and naturally snapped a shot of my friends having a giggle. I keep that in my phone with me right now.

On the glorious way back to the luxurious beach house we felt the sand of Byron one last time, throwing our tees off and launched into the ice-felt tropical water. I came across a frisbee bobbing like a apple in a barrel, so I zipped it across the cool tide to the others. We must have stayed in there for about an hour. It did get warmer. But not the air, so it took a lot to get out and really run to the next hottest fall of water without anyone ‘shots’-ing it first. I got third 😦

I slipped on a blue top and matched it with wedged heals on the night,which were surprisingly comfortable. We looked around Byron for place to eat, finally choosing a pizza & pasta groovy diner on the corner in a secret spot. The pizzas were crazy- I chose a Mexican; Yes, It came with nachos and sour cream on top. I mean, Im not one to choose the heavier ones but that was needed. SO good. Whats best is the fact they bought out a ice-cream-sparkler-lit birthday surprise for Jade. Although, there was a significant amount of homeless people bunched together on street corners, some selling art, some jewelry. They were wrapped in 4 or 5 layers of material for the chilly 24 hours to come. Posters taped the town colours of messages in hope to enlighten spirits around the globe that visit this sweet region.

Until Next Time Byron