We awoke in Tenterfield on Tuesday morning and it was still cold, although bright, so wasted no time in eating breakfast, re-organising the few things we had unpacked overnight, and moved on. First stop was 30km away at Bald Rock National Park, where we could climb the not-quite accurately named Bald Rock for magnificent views over the surrounding country. (I say not quite accurately named as it has quite a few trees and shrubs on it, clinging precariously to cracks in the rock, although most of it is indeed bald). The ascent was steep but the views were worth it, especially with the odd textures and colours of the rock (Australia's second largest monolith after Uluru) in the foreground. As we hadn't made it to Uluru on this trip, we were glad we had chalked up at least one monolith at last.
On the way down a few spots of rain came down, and by the time we got back to the van the rain had truly started - there seldom seems to be anything subtle about the rain in Australia - it pretty much seems to either be on or off. So off we drove back towards the coast, crossing the high country of the Great Dividing Range on the way. We stopped for lunch at a well-hidden rest stop at a clearing in amongst the high rainforest where it was freezing cold and drizzly. Not a good sign.
The rain slackened off after that until we turned off the Pacific Highway just outside Byron Bay, and the heavens opened. However when we parked up at the shorefront it had stopped, and we celebrated our return to the seaside after spending more than two weeks inland either to, from, or in, the outback.
We set up camp at the same place we had stopped before, and even erected our tarpaulin 'awning' just in case. How smug we were as it held off the light rain while we ate our dinner underneath! But then I heard a loud rumble coming from the rooftops of the buildings nearby. "is that... rain?" I asked Hannah, and the rumble got louder and closer. A few seconds later, a downpour of biblical proportions was upon us and we madly tried to push the ponding rainwater off the tarp. However the storm got the better of us, as we noticed that the soft ground was not holding the pegs down sufficiently, and fearing a peg flying off and through someone's window we quickly collapsed the tarp and poles and shoved them under the van. The ground had become a swamp by then and totally soaked, we climbed in the front seats of the van. Later we went to bed, with the rain still going. That was Tuesday night!
The next morning the weather had miraculously improved to the point that we got in the sea and did some body boarding first thing. But again the rain set in, forcing us indoors to eat a fantastic fish & chip lunch while overlooking the beach. Well, what we could see of it anyway, given the downpour.
Apart from occasional breaks in the weather it pretty much continued like this for the rest of our time in Byron. "What had we done?!" we thought to ourselves, having driven about 1300km from Broken Hill to get here! So instead of hanging around in the rain on Thursday afternoon we took a beautiful drive in the dank, hilly upcountry to Nimbin, the so called "hippy capital of Australia".
It seems there was some kind of freak festival here in the 70s and some of the freaks stayed on, with the result that although around the village there is an emphasis on all things green and creative, the overwhelming characteristic of Nimbin is its attitude to dope smoking. So much so, that despite its hippy credentials, the atmosphere on the main street was downright heavy (man), with crowds of decidedly non-hippy dope dealers hanging out, interrogating passers-by: "smoko?" was their call. In fact it seemed like a sub-tropical version of Camden market, with all that that entails! While having a coffee we saw two families engaged in a fight, and Hannah read in the local paper a letter to the editor stating how one concerned resident couldn't believe that she had seen a woman kneeing another woman in the head, in the street, one Saturday morning. Clearly this was a place with more than its fair share of social problems and we couldn't help but wonder about the effect of all that dope in one place, and the consequent draw (arf) of the place for all sorts of people, hippy or otherwise. Saw some nice parrots, though...
And the next morning we left - suffice to say that our second spell in Byron Bay was not quite as enjoyable as the first!
Robin
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