Sand between your toes

Living life barefoot is possibly one of the most exhilarating experiences I’ve had in Australia so far. Feeling the sand between your toes as you dance on the beach. Feeling the rocks disappear from underneath your feet as you jump off a cliff. Feeling the cold of the henna as it is being painted onto your skin. Feeling the sting of a twig or rock as you walk across the forest floor. To live barefoot is to live just a little bit more free, and wearing shoes today (I’m getting on the bus soon) feels almost imprisoning.

But let me take you back to where I left you last – Coffs Harbour. Coffs has been an incredible experience. I was supposed to simply pass through for a couple of nights, on my way up the coast. Instead I stayed for ten nights, and found people to travel with further up the coast. I can’t recommend Aussitel enough – its staff and small size make it family-like, and it’s impossible not to make friends. We had an Easter egg hunt on Easter Sunday, watched the sun set over the marina from Muttonbird Island, and had lovely dinners and Domino’s pizzas alike. We went paddle-boarding again and floated back as a big raft, we kayaked in the sea (because who likes surfing anyway?!), and jumped off the 6m high jetty. Even now, a week later, I still really miss Coffs and its amazing people. Thankfully, we keep coming across them as they travel up the coast, so goodbyes tend to be only temporary.

The day before we left Coffs, we decided to take a couple of cars and drive to Dorrigo NP. This park is home to a vast stretch of rain forest in the mountains, and is one of the most beautiful places I’ve seen in Australia so far. We drove up in our German friend Merlin’s car, a second-hand Nissan with fairy lights and music, and a tendency to overheat. Halfway up the mountains we ended up stranded on the side of the road as the poor Nissan was struggling with the climb. Boiling coolant was spilling out of the engine in a green mess that looked like cats’ vomit. But once we got to the park (Frances picked us up in the other car), it was completely worth it. We went for a nice, long hike past waterfalls, cliff edges, and views so wide we could see the Pacific a whopping 60km away.

But then the time came to leave. Marije, Frances, Remo, and I took the Greyhound bus from Coffs Harbour to Yamba after we said goodbye to the group at Coffs. In Yamba, the YHA welcomed us through the means of Shane. Now, Shane is somewhat of an urban legend around these parts of Australia and we had been warned about him. He’s mainly known for his infamous tour – aptly named Shane’s Tour – that takes you around Yamba. The tour leaves in the early afternoon, and other than “Good luck” and “Be careful”, nobody will tell you anything about the tour. This is because Shane’s motto is simple: what happens on tour, stays on tour. Therefore I won’t tell you much, but I’ll divulge the following: GO ON SHANE’S TOUR. It’s exhilarating, terrifying, and amazing. The picture below is the sneak-peek I’ll share with you, as cliff-jumping is the part of the tour that’ll make you want to go most.

But other than Shane’s tour, Yamba was a pretty quiet place to be. The culture in the small town revolves entirely around surfing and its beaches are the training grounds for some of the world’s best surfers. However, if you, like me, have the spatial coordination of a goldfish and the balance of a toddler, then surfing is not the best activity to partake in. A lesson by Rob back in Coffs Harbour was short and perhaps a little bit too basic: “See that? That’s the sea. See those things in it? Waves. See this? That’s a surfboard. Now you take the board, go to those wave things, and put yourself and the board on top of them. That’s all.” He then proceeded to ride a wave somewhat successfully, whereas I proceeded to get hit in the head by my board. It’s not for the uncoordinated.

However, the people in Yamba were good and seeing many of the people we met in Coffs there was like a little reunion. We ate a lot of food, drank a lot of coffee, and chilled a lot by the pool whilst drinking cider. After three nights it was time for us to move on and also say goodbye to our favourite Brit, Frances. One woman down, myself, Marije, Remo, and Merlin got into Merlin’s car and we started the drive up to Byron Bay.

Byron Bay is mostly known for its party scene – a fact that made me somewhat reluctant to go. But the drive to the city following the coast was absolutely breathtaking, and as the sun was low on the horizon we stopped by the side of the road and climbed to a lookout overlooking the sea and mountains. Once we got to the hostel (recommended by our friends already there) we met up with Kristin and her new “crew” (Australians really like the word crew?!). A quick shower and some food later, we were on our way to the Northern, where a band whose name I don’t remember was playing a concert and we had some drinks. After another change of venue, the need for kebab became overpowering and we were so tired we fell asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillow.

The next day we decided to go to the hippie town of Nimbin. Again we piled into Merlin’s car and started the drive into the hills (without overheating, thankfully!). The route took us through luscious hills and beautiful scenery, and was worth it in itself. Nimbin is mainly known as the place to be in Australia if you want to get high, as the police are tolerant of the use and sale of marijuana in the village. The village is thus reminiscent of Amsterdam’s marijuana-leaf filled streets, with vibrant colours and rainbow patterns everywhere. Locals sold their non-marijana related goods in the streets (after losing my earrings, I was very happy to find some silver gecko ones!), posters advertised a missing cow, and dogs were strolling the streets as if they ran the place. We only stayed for a quick lunch and look around, whilst observing the village’s many whimsical and eccentric people. Afterwards, we drove to The Channon, home to a massive market. The market was filled with art, food, music, and people, and it was amazing. We had gorgeous Thai kebabs, allowed ourselves some Dutch poffertjes (Marije and I were so happy!), and we both got henna tattoos as the boys strolled across the market. The sun was shining and all was truly, genuinely good.

But my favourite experience of Australia happened once we got back to Byron that night. Aided by our new-found friends from Germany and the UK, and copious amounts of rum, we headed to the silent disco on the beach. No shoes, no roof, no walls – just the stars and the sand and the sea. Three DJs played music through our wireless headphones, allowing us to change music constantly and choose whichever tracks we liked best. The rum meant there were no restrictions on dancing, and everyone was truly loving the experience. This is the best nightclub I have ever been to, and I recommend it to anyone heading to Byron Bay.

But all the fun comes at a cost, and a annoyingly persistent chest-infection means I’ll have to take things a little bit slower the next few days. And, even more sadly, we are another woman down. Marije is staying behind in Byron Bay as Remo and I continue up to coast towards Surfers Paradise. Undoubtedly we’ll meet both new and known people along the way, but saying goodbye does not get any easier as traveling continues and I’ll really miss my fellow Dutchie. So here’s to silent discos and good people and running into the sea with all your clothes on. Wherever you are, put on some headphones and dance with your friends. Have fun.