The Tides Change, And So On...
Stuff got real in the last blog. This one is full of hope and doesn’t end on a down note, so here it goes:
After spending a few days in Mackville, waiting on the police and the bank to do their thing, we decided that it was costing us too much to stay at a hotel. We had heard of a campground nearby, so we packed up and headed to Gumma Reserve.
It was a small open camping area with a river next to it and jam-packed with mossies (mosquitos to us North Americans). We were only able to stand it for two nights; any more and our bodies would just be a giant mosquito bite. While we were there, though, we made the most of it. We swam in the river and swang from a rope into the water. But we wanted more. We wanted ocean.
We discovered that on the other side of the river there was a path. This path lead through a forested area, continued through some sand dunes, and went out to the ocean. Cool.
When we got into the river we decided to walk upstream a bit and just let the current take us to the path. After conquering the river and got onto the path, I realized that I had left my flip flops back on the other side of the river. It was too late to go back and get them, so I trekked through the forest in my bare feet. Kyle and John were smart enough to bring footwear.
Oh, another thing about this forest: it was supposed to have two of the deadliest types of snakes living within it. Luckily we didn’t see any, but when we got to the sand dunes we could see a bunch of old (or occupied?) snake holes.
We hopped over the dunes and swam in the ocean. It had been about five days since we had seen or swam it, and with all of the bad things happening it was nice to get there.
But we left Gumma. On the way out we found out that a week or two before we were there the water in the river was about eight feet higher. We probably should have looked into the place a bit more.
Once John had his banking stuff settled we were able to take off again. Next stop: Byron Bay. Mode of transportation: Rods.
Let me explain. Ever since Rod, the Aussie in the Land Rover on the beach, had picked us up, we started calling this way of travelling “getting a Rod.” Also, “Rod” sounds like you’re saying “ride” with an Australian accent.
So we Rodded about four times that day: two were locals and just drove us ten kilometers each, one was on her way to Coff’s Harbour, the next biggest city, and the final one drove us to the train station in Coff’s Harbour. We got sick of waiting for Rods to come.
We arrived at Byron Bay and stayed a night in a hostel. We then went to check in at this new hostel that had just opened up a week before we got there. As we were about to pay for four nights, a lady walked up and said that they needed more people to work for accomidation. Kyle hastily took back his credit card and went to work. I went to work an hour later. There was no work for John… until the next day. So now we are living, for free, at a brand new hostel (Nomad Oddessy if you want to look it up). We work 5 hours for four days and then we have three days off. 20 hours of work for a place to stay for a week. We’re cool with it.
And that’s what’s going on right now. Gotta go though, internet is running out!
9 months ago • 0 notes