Where Magic Happens

I made it to Byron Bay in the end after a hungover sleep on the beach at Surfers. If the beach on Fraser is the Great Sandy Highway then the beach at Surfers must be the Great Sandy Jogging Track. It was jammers this morning with people walking, jogging, rollerblading (OK, I made that last one up) and generally having a good old stare at the poor hungover English girl on the beach in yesterday's clothes and last night's make-up. But I did get to watch some people having surfing lessons so I felt that I had done enough touristy stuff to be able to leave. I took photos too.

Then I got on the bus here. It took a couple of hours and I was sleeping as we crossed from Queensland into New South Wales. Shame really. It has taken me 22 hours on a bus (well, several buses) to get from Cairns to the NSW border but the moment passed unnoticed. I might have let out an extra loud snore by way of celebration or something but I doubt it.

I got straight off the Greyhound bus and onto the courtesy bus for the Arts Factory Lodge- a hostel I stayed at last time I was here and the only one that I bought a t-shirt from, which I found when I was home, much to my amusement. The Lonely Planet describes the Arts Factory as 'a 60s commune gone right' but I can't help thinking that it is like a holiday camp for hippies. At least there won't be long queues in the showers tomorrow as I believe that dreadlocks need no washing. In fact, most of these people look like they might ran away at the mere mention of soap (though after last night's shenanigans I am hardly one to talk).

Byron Bay is home of the painted VW camper, the dreaded blonde chicks, people looking for enlightenment and an assortment of other interesting types. I like it here:) even though popular consensus is that there are far too many tourists here- being a tourist myself I hardly notice. So I put my bag in the room, disturbing some guy having a kip there (yes, my first mixed sex dorm on this trip- I said I didn't mind the mixed dorm as long as the guys were cute, I want my money back!) and wandered into town for a something to eat and a look round.

Nothing screams 'welcome' to a poor hungover H like a sign saying 'PIZZA'. I managed to walk past the first couple of places but eventually had to give in and have an Apocalypse Now pizza. It was good and hit the spot then it was on to the beach.

It was dark already and the moment I looked up I saw a shooting star. Nice. I did my Astronomy homework once more (ie, looked at the two new constellations I learnt) and enjoyed the peace of the empty beach and the beauty of the night sky in all its glory.

On my way back to the hostel, a guy stopped me and pointed out Jupiter snuggled next to the crescent moon. Byron is just that kind of place.