I've been in Australia for two weeks; time for an update!
With an adventure such as this (a trip to a new country - solo, no plan, shallow budget) I should have expected some miscues and wrong turns. Instead I arrived expecting things just to work out. I thought 'If I'm on it when I arrive, I should be on the road with a good van by day 3'. Not so fast...
I arrived day one and got right to business: I checked into a hostel (booked just a couple of nights), opened an aussie bank account and requested a 'wire transfer'. I even enquired about a few vans that I found on the inter web. Over the next few days I patiently awaited my money, and test drove a few very livable vans. Without cash in hand I thought it imprudent to enter into a haggle with any owners and a couple of my most viable options were sold on without me. After this I would book a few more nights, schlep the 120lbs of shit I brought with me a couple of blocks down to the next available hostel, and then go eat some $20 meal and drink a $6 beer (or three). This cycle repeated itself for a full two weeks before my car money money arrived…probably the most expensive two weeks of my life. And I still hadn't gotten a surf or a climb in. Damn you e-Trade!!
Then, at last on christmas eve, my money arrived. At this point I was ready to buy any car that would get me and all of my shit of Sydney. With no van's in my budget on my radar, I pulled the trigger on Sheela here. Not exactly my dream van, but I think with some work on the interior, and hopefully just an oil change, she'll be just fine.
I celebrated, partied, and spent another small fortune on Xmas eve. I woke up early Xmas day after very little sleep to check out of my hostel and move my car. After a couple hours napping it became clear that my hostel friends were bailing on the drive up the coast to Brisbane, so I set off on my own. After 4 hrs of heavy traffic and pouring rain I arrived to a deserted Newcastle. Even McDonalds was closed. I couldn't get wifi to chat with my parents or Cari on Xmas... how depressing. Just when I was about to give up on the day I caught a glimpse of the water and thought I better have a look. Here's what I found:
Now obviously, this ain't no 8foot Banzai Pipeline, or even clean 4 foot OB, but I was soooo out there!! I spent a couple of hours taking steep drops into shoulder high wedges and barrels. Got a few turns in as well. The other surfers in the water were definitely a skilled bunch, and weren't afraid to break your bubble when competing for a wave. I managed to steer clear of any trouble but I can definitely see good days around here being a pretty fierce competition for waves. Feeling pretty pleased I rinsed off in the rain and a beachside shower.
One of the better rippers out said hello and after hearing my Xmas night plans he took pity on me and invited me to his place for a beer. Sam was his name. He was 24. His place, was a one room house adjacent to his parents that he had built himself. Inside he had about 10 paper thin shortboards scattered about various racks and a few well worn big wave guns that he had taken back from a stint in Hawaii. He's a carpenter and a sign maker, he surfs every day, he's surfed everywhere that's good, he surfs better than you do. We spent about an hour talking surf; I broke out my atlas and he pointed out all the good waves he cared to share between Newcastle and Byron. After that, he said he needed a nap, and I went on my merry way.
After getting kicked out of a deserted parking garage while making a PB&J, I found a secluded nook of suburbia and crawled into the tight crawlspace in the back of Sheela. I got a miserable nights sleep, being pestered by a mosquito, breathing stuffy moist air. I woke up sick with a nasty sore throat and continued north. Will things turn around for Colin and Sheela? Stay tuned…
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