The Bay of Lord Byron

I have been pining to visit Byron Bay since the outset of the trip having read a number of airplane magazines and travel articles highlighting its bohemian glory. With a day in hand we decided to make the trek as it was only about an hour or so away down the coast. It was funny though, as we entered NSW Jen commented how it suddenly felt like we were home – like she could sense the different feel or sense of place that NSW has compared to Queensland. With the preconception of entering some modern hippy enclave we headed into town and found a parking spot off the beach ready for an explore. Of particular note was the absence not only of large multi-national food chains such as KFC or Maccas but also the big box malls on the outskirts of town which have the parasitic tendency of causing all the interesting independently owned shops in the main drag to suffer into bankruptcy. It was refreshing to wander down a multitude of avenues with assorted shops and cafes with varied multi-cultural fares. It was touristy without a doubt, but in general there was an air of contentedness. For a touristy place it was also surprisingly clean with very little in the way of litter tarnishing the parkland or streets – people seemed to be conscientious, courteous and generally healthier. We bought a few rolls of sushi for lunch, ironically, from a small Sushi Franchise shop (Euro Sushi) owned by a Caucasian proprietor with a foreign accent and purporting to be the best sushi in town. The meal deal of the day was 2 sushi rolls with a juice – not a soft drink – a subtle but refreshing change to the ‘supersize’ mentality so commonly taken for granted. The ‘Bay’ was beautiful and I can see why it attracts the wealthy and back-packer alike. Stretching a few kilometres in either direction, it would be an ideal training ground for runners or triathletes and definitely cater to the surf-junkies. Jen was less enamoured by the place until our drive home when she opened up one of the tourist guides we’d found at the info centre and had a gander. In between pages of touristy information were essays from present and former eminent Byron Bayites about the virtues of the community and why they had come or previously lived there. One piece focused on the evils of globalisation and need for ‘localisation’ to overcome the environmental and community ravages perpetrated by the former. It emphasized the importance of ‘community’ and working together with a general awareness and conscientiousness. The author, a woman in her forties or thereabouts, had been awarded numerous community prizes having helped to re-establish farmer’s markets in the area. Another article was written by an entrepreneur who had established the first backpacker’s hostel in Byron Bay and essentially made his fortune in this way. His piece suggested he was more disillusioned by the invasion of backpackers to Byron (which he himself had helped to facilitate) and that before the masses of tourists, it was truly a noble and peaceful spot to live but had since become tarnished by the tourist influx. If I was back in my twenties and free to roam, I could definitely see the appeal of such a place and could easily have gotten stuck there (in a good way of course). Back at the holiday park on the Gold Coast, the boys settled into some overdue schoolwork, an endeavour one would think would become second nature after 6 months of near daily entreaties. Unfortunately, it seems to still drain us both and particularly Jen who predominantly takes on the task. Alas school holidays are upon us this week so aside from journal writing, we’ll be able to relax a bit. Today we’ll say goodbye to the Gold Coast and head back to Brisbane for one more night, then off to Vietnam on Monday.