Sweating Balls in Byron Bay

Friday, January 2, 2015

Today we headed up the east coast to make all our Aussie beach bum dreams come true. It was a 5am wake up call to catch our 7am flight up to the Gold Coast. Stina’s cousins and his wife actually picked us up and drove us….at 5:30am. I felt bad, but we are not in the business of turning down offers out here. Once we checked in, her cousins came with us through security to grab breakfast at the terminal food court. Australia domestic air travel is basically like being back in 1998. Anyone can go through security and your ID does not get checked. Literally, not once. Not even when they print your boarding pass and check your baggage. I guess that how it works when you live in a country that isn’t universally hated by most of the world. Zero fucks, Aussies style. It did, however, remind me that Home Alone 2 was not as far fetched as you think when watching it today.

It was a quick 1hour flight up to Gold Coast, and from there we hopped in our transfer van to take us to Byron Bay. Now, I realized I’ve already named Waiheke Island “Heaven”, but let me specify. Waiheke is where blue blood winos go to die, and Byron is where hippies and pot heads go. As they don’t mix in this world, I can’t imagine they mix in the next. It is a gorgeous long strip of beach with a little town in the middle that goes off every night. Now almost everyone we have met has told us that Byron Bay is their favorite place in Australia, and now we know why. Super chilled and laid back with an emphasis on fun and lots of gyros (called Kebobs here….don’t ask). What more can you ask for? We checked in to the Byron Beach Resort, which sounds classy but its really just a super chill beachy hostel.

Our hammocks
Our hammocks
The property is pretty spread out, with hammocks hanging every 5 feet or so, the beach right across the street and a BOMB restaurant next door. Oh, and yoga in the back three times a day.

We spent the day at the beach, which was hot as fuck because the humidity here is like Florida, and then went into town to have a look around. We stopped at a travel shop to book our Greyhound bus tickets up to Noosa in a few days and ended up spending $1,000 each on all our activities, buses, and tours the rest of the way up the East Coast. What can I say, the travel desk guy was cute and efficient. We told him the tours we had planned and what else we wanted to do – he immediately surmised that we are “upmarket” (his words, but I like it) and we felt like he really understood the Bougie Backpackers. The prices were basically the same I was getting online, so why not let hot boy make a little commission and do my work for me while Stina and I stare at his blue eyes? Everyone is a winner in Byron! Feeling very accomplished, we headed to the Beach Hotel for a drink (Aussie lesson: a lot of the bars here are called “hotels” because back in the day places were not allowed to serve booze unless they also had places to sleep, so all the bars became a “hotel” and the names just stuck – history lesson credit to Dan). The Beach Hotel is, specifically, where Rory goes to die. A big bar, right on the beach, with TONS of dudes and everyone getting sloshed.

It's raining men. Hallelujah!
It’s raining men. Hallelujah!
Now, the dudes are all pretty mediocre, it’s definitely quantity over quality here in Byron, but there are a few diamonds in the ruff here and there. I am already getting a feeling my inner arm bitter is about to make a cameo. She can’t be stopped. We headed home early, since Sydney tried to kill us and all, with plans to return tomorrow for a big Saturday night out. Once we got back to our hostel, we found some crazy nut-bag cunts had checked into our room. It was about 9pm and they were all sitting in their beds texting…probably responding to dirty tinder boys and their pathetic dick pics. Those are the kind of girls I’m talking about here. But everyone wanted to go to bed early, and in a dorm room, that is a miracle. (Note: last dorm room of the trip!!).

Saturday, January 3, 2014

Today we awoke at 5am to what we thought was a fire when in actuality it was those fucking cunts waking up and yelling at each other across the room and into the bathroom. Screaming. At 5am. Stina and I both shot up out of bed. Apparently we had both separately resolved to tell them what they could shove up their dirty little namesakes if they said one more word. They did not, and thus saved themselves a baby dino brawl. Btw – they were doing a sunrise tour of the lighthouse in Byron. 5am, to see a fucking lighthouse. Get a life. We went back to bed and woke up around 9am to make the 9:30 yoga session. When we arrived we were told the 9:30 class was just ending. Confusion ensued. Apparently, for the last 24 hours, we have been on the wrong time, thinking it was an hour earlier than it was. We even had an entire discussion about how much earlier the sun sets here and how weird that was. We are morons. Can I blame Apple? I’m sure even the cunts figured out how to tell time in Byron Bay. Update: the cunts slept in the room ALL DAY LONG, because they were so wiped from their 5am lighthouse extravaganza.

So what do a couple of LA gals do when their workout plans are foiled? Why, we brunch of course. And then beach.

The beach outside our hostel
The beach outside our hostel
We managed to stay on the beach for almost 3 hours this time without dying. I went topless, because when in Rome, until some creepy old man kept sneaking a peak and I discovered that my inner hippy is actually quite uptight. We headed into town that afternoon, went to visit our hot travel stud to pick up our vouchers, and then headed for the hike to the lighthouse. You see, instead of getting up at 5am and being a huge pain in everyone’s ass just so your lazy butt can catch a free ride up to the lighthouse, you can also hike up. The views were gorgeous, but if I’m being honest, by the end of it I kind of wishing I had woken up at 5am with the cunts. Why do hikes always seem like such a great idea and then turn into pure hell? This can’t just be me. The whole straight up and then straight down thing just drives me crazy for some reason. I can’t help but think how much better it would be with a tunnel and an elevator at the end. We grabbed some booze in town and headed back to the hostel to prepare for party night. This is where I’ll leave you for today. Don’t worry, party night will be in tomorrow’s….it’s a fun one.
View of Byron Bay
View of Byron Bay
Wategos Beach
Wategos Beach
Easternmost point of Australia
Easternmost point of Australia
We are exhausted at this point but still look cute
We are exhausted at this point but still look cute
That damn lighthouse
That damn lighthouse

Advertisements

One thought on “Sweating Balls in Byron Bay”

  1. Forgive me for stalking your blog but aside from being hilarious, it’s bringing back some ace memories (I was here in 2008). This one in particular made me laugh – nobody told me about the time difference either, meaning the day after I left Byron I turned up to a job interview in Brisbane an hour early. So stupid!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s