Why I Didn’t Marry Heath Ledger

After a long day of building one fence and playing with dead things on the shore, we had some more wine. We had some more wine (imagine that) and I went for a bush walk with Sea and Jay.

Okay, a bush walk can mean anything from walking down the street to going down the trail to the beach. Ours was the latter.

We had to “avoid the giant frilled water lizards and night stalking bandicoots” on the way down. You won’t find those in Wikipedia, they’re just creatures we made up to represent the scary stuff that probably WAS lurking in the bush to attack us. Two city boys and an American girl drinking red wine on a trail to the beach. It was sadly similar to the beginning of a teenage horror movie. Considering Jude (who presumably knows her way around the place) took a huge stick to kill any snakes that may appear in the path, walking down in the middle of the night in flip flops may not have been that wise. Obviously we made it out.

Of course the beach was beautiful with the moon and the sand and the rocks. I really hate that you can just run in to the ocean or do cartwheels down the beach here. I guess you can, but you risk being stung by scary things. It didn’t seem to occur to the boys that anyone would ever do such a thing.

– Carrie

Day two in Brokenhead Beach. It feels so good to physically create something with your hands. This morning we started out with weeding and mulching the organic garden. Weeding is a good task for someone whose a little ADD like me. I even mulched the weed plant. HeHe! It looks FABULOUS now!

For a good part of the day, we sat around waiting to see what was next. Greg had several people stop in, so work was halted.

In the afternoon, we began rebuilding the earthen stairs. I guess we just cleaned them up a bit, but it involved back breaking hoe work. We had to hoe the area to pull up the very deep grass roots and level out the stairs. I’m really sore, but it was satisfying work.

I think you get such a sense of accomplishment through physical labor and seeing concrete results of your work. I’m afraid most of my techno-saturated generation is very much missing out on that feeling.

This evening, more visitors arrived. A DJ from Melbourne and his manager are here to stay for a few days. We had another fantastic dinner with pesto made that day with garden fresh vegetables over pasta. Yummy. Then we started working on drinking our several bottles of wine that we can’t bring back to the states because of the nazi liquid restrictions.

And we got our first digiredoo lesson. Fun times.

– Carrie

Brokenhead Headland, the place where we’re Wwoofing, has an ancient and significant role in the aboriginal history of the area. Much like every other coastal area in eastern Australia, they have an aboriginal slaughter story. It’s horrific, but not uncommon. A large quantity of flower was stolen from the trading post. The aboriginals were blamed for the theft and slaughtered by gunfire. That is actually much more humane than some other areas where the white men poisoned the aboriginals by lacing their gifts of food with strychnine.

The legend dates back to aboriginal times and has to very distinct and interesting ending.

A woman, Gorgogan was born and lived in Woodenbong to the north of Brokenhead Beach. She magically flew south to the beach and became a spirit. During the day, she would appear as the black rocks on the shore along with many other women spirits. At night she would

Ending One: Appear as a light at sea and lure certain men to their deaths.

Ending Two: Appear as a light at sea.

The differences of the two tales are fascinating to me. Which men were lured? Who was responsible, the men or the spirit. The questions can go on indefinitely. I love it.

According to a local aboriginal authority, the second version is most likely the original. Aboriginal takes generally have ambiguous and peaceful endings.

– Carrie

New Year’s Day began with a bang. Not really. It began with me doing my standard waking up freakishly early when I’ve been up since 4:00 am thing. Because that’s what I do. Finding and using an internet cafe has been somewhat of a challenge on this trip. There are several, but they all elected to be closed on new year’s morning. I walked in to Byron to find that I could by a latte, I could buy a sarong, I could even buy some pennicilin, but I couldn’t get on the net. Bummer. That’s Australian for bummer, in case you were wondering. So I hung out at the beach for a bit, then made my way back to the hotel to find out about our new Wwoof host. Scary stuff. Wondering about the person you’ll be living with for several days.

So Greg, our Wwoof host, was supposed to pick us up at 11:00 at the hotel. He called around 11:00 to tell us he was running late and he’d be there in “half an hour.” Uh oh. We’ve heard that before.

He got there about 45 minutes later and we rolled out of Byron. We immediately found that our Wwoof host trepidation was unfounded. We found that he had an additional Wwoofer, Mick, who would would be working with us. Cool.

Greg is a nice guy. He’s SUPER liberal. All in all, an Aussie hippie. He’s a former sculptor whose now earning his bread by playing the stock market. Allright. We know the an all sand headland in the middle of a national park some place south of Ballina, but we really didn’t know what that meant. Apparently, that means a one lane road through the park up the dune to the properties. You can see for kilometers (hehe) to the park and the sea in either direction. This has been the only place in Oz, the only place in the world, with white sand dunes outside of the Florida panhandle. From the home, you take a trail down to the beach over HUGE white sand dunes to the gold sand coast. Once you’re there, you reach the black sedimentary rocks with erosion holes created from an ancient forest. Lunch consisted of scrumptious selections from the garden, including bagels, tomato salad, hummus and even caterpillars in the greens. Who knew Wwoof food would be this AMAZING?

So we made our way down to the beach with Jude, the neighbors partner, while the boys took a nap. Once we returned, a lady with her daughter and a friend dropped in for the night. We had a HUGE dinner with stir fry with chicken, sweet potatoes (I actually ate them, believe it or not) and wilted greens straight from the garden. All of the grown ups LOVE to talk politics. It’s interesting. In the US, they would certainly be considered the Green Party. We even tried a “shandy,” which is beer with sprite. Strange, but no stranger than red wine with Coca-Cola in Spain. After we finished, we noticed something strange outside. There was a white rainbow, which had to be caused by the moon. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Oh yeah, there is even an outhouse. Not like the wooden structure with the crescent moon cut-out in the front. More of a glass brick with stone tile and bamboo shades kind of outhouse. The water is still rainwater, so it’s a bit different from home. This northern rivers region of Australia is particularly environmentally conscious. The homes are run on a combination of solar and wind power. Very progressive.

Do you know what heaven sounds like? I’ve found out. It sounds like surf, wind and cicadas. I found that I LOVE to go to the point in the back yard and pretending like I’m the only person in the universe. It’s easy to do here.

– Carrie

Wwoof, Willing Workers on Organic Farms, is a worldwide volunteer organization. It is a program available around the globe in which travelers exchange a few hours of work per day for room and board. What an incredible concept. You can get around the world for the cost of transportation and beer while living with locals and really experience the indigenous lifestyle, while participating in programs that promote the regional economy. In all, it’s sustainable tourism at its best.

After meeting the Aloombra Lavender beast, I was gravely concerned about our Wwoof host. I’m glad to tell you that my reservations were completely unfounded. Greg is awesome.

The home at Broadwater Headland is a total hippie house with different people coming and going at all times. I love it, as I get to meet loads of people from around the country.

The main project here is dune regeneration, which I am particularly interested in having grown up vacationing every summer in north Florida in the United States. Here, dune regeneration consists of removing the Bituo bush that was introduced to the area by mining companies in the past. The tree grows quickly so was used to stop the erosion in places that were mined. The tree became a pest, much like kudzu. It takes over the indigenous plants and kills them. So, this is one hell of a job and won’t be complete in many years, if ever. I’m glad to be associated with a group who is making the effort to do this work. It’s an interesting contrast to the Florida dune regeneration projects that consist of building the dunes up and is needed as a result of erosion due to over-development and hurricanes.

– Carrie

I think blowing a few chunks in the ocean is a small price to pay for seeing a sea turtle swim in the wild. But don’t tell Heath, I don’t want him to have the mental image of his future wife spewing into the Pacific. I know, spoken like a true bulimic.

So we went snorkeling at Julian Rocks, a short boat ride from Byron Bay in the Pacific. As well as being a marine reserve, Julian Rocks is a Bird Sanctuary. That means you’ll get no relief from your nausea by sitting on the rocks. You can’t even touch them. And you surely don’t want to touch anything below the surface, as you might get stung. That was the only safety advice provided by Sundivers. Seems pretty straight forward to me. Don’t climb on the rocks and don’t touch anything, especially the blue bottles.

The company we used, Sundivers, was a little bagiggedy. They just didn’t have their stuff together, so we ended up with no gear.

Imagine that. Me with no gear – again.

Luckily, another company was in the area and loaned us snorkels and fins. In addition to leaving our gear, Sundivers didn’t provide water. You aren’t out there for long (about 2 hours) so you aren’t going to get heatstroke, but you way want to take a bottle along.

They made us wear super buoyant wetsuits, which means you don’t have to make any effort to stay afloat, but you also don’t have the range of motion to dive down. It’s like being trapped inside a giant fishing bobber. If the blue bottles (scary stinging jellyfish-like creatures) aren’t too bad, I’d skip the wetsuit.

Julian Rocks is more of a scuba destination in that the majority of the sites are around 15 to 20 feet deep. You can see a lot snorkeling, but you can’t see it up close. It’s worth the trip only because it’s inexpensive. Contrasting this trip with a previous trip to the coral reef outside of Key West, Florida, I believe this is much more of a scuba spot.

We saw AMAZING iridescent blue fish, the sea turtle, an angel fish, coral, sea urchins and other organisms. I’m not sure what most of the things were, but they sure were pretty. No shark sightings, despite all of the “Come to Julian Rocks and Swim With the Sharks” press. Before we took off, one of the (hottie) Sundiver employees made the statement that you’re more likely to get hurt by being hit in the head with a coconut than by a shark. Now I’m afraid of coconuts.

Unfortunately, the stomach issues (otherwise known as the sea-sickness hangover) kept us both out of commission for a good part of the day. We rebounded in time to par-tay for the evening, though.

NOTE TO SELF: You know you get seasick when you snorkel, it’s happened before and it WILL happen again. Next time, stop being a jackass and take some Dramamine.

– Carrie

New Years Eve in Byron Bay, Australia. It was okay, I guess. We had one of those New Years Eve’s where noone bothered counting down the…countdown. We all said “Happy New Year” at approximately 2 minutes after midnight. Where were we? The Great Northern Hotel. Otherwise known as the only place with no cover charge in Byron Bay. The evening began with the “seafood platter” at Bo’s on the main road. I’ll give you a little piece of advice…the world renowned prawns in Oz taste funny. It’s strange how a different ocean can cause a completely different seafood taste. Maybe it’s the salinity. Actually, funny is being nice. Really nice. We closed down the bar (actually not much of an accomplishment to tell you the truth) with only a tiny buzz. Not from lack of trying, I can tell you. But then things got more interesting.

We were hanging out with some Ozzie tourists from various parts of the country. Noone from Byron actually goes out in Byron it turns out. The bar had “pokies” in the back, which are slot machines. Some guy asked me “Have you ever lost money at the pokies?” HeHe. I wasn’t sure how to answer. And here I was thinking I was familiar with every way of losing money in the universe. Show’s what I know.

I had an urgent need to visit the little girl’s room for some reason, so we headed to the beach. First of all, the public toilets in Australia have black lights. Not for club lighting, but to keep junkies from shooting up. It turns out that you can’t see your veins in black lights. Weird.

So we headed down to the beach to ring in the first 2am of 2007. There was the beach, bonfires and the coolest Aussie around – Rosco Pico Trane. Rosco, among other things, gave us the in’s and out’s of the AFL (Australian Football League), including one strategy where you hit your opponent in the….who dad. He also had the good grace to show me the southern cross. He was a gentleman and a scholar…and a football player and a dancer and an astronomer. Mmmm…that’s about it.

Post beach, we wondered back toward the main street to find a native drum circle with loads of dancing hippies. The music was absolutely AMAZING. Unfortunately, the booze wasn’t flowing freely enough due to FREAKISHLY strict laws in place specifically for New Years Eve. The drums really were phenomenal, booze or no booze. You’ve got to love those hippies.

If you’re looking for a New Year’s party, Byron Bay isn’t really the place to be.

– Carrie

It seems like every year I blow it out on New Year’s Eve Eve. Last year it was (accidentally) breaking in to an apartment complex in Manhattan and stealing a bottle of cooking sherry with the Scottish guy (we thought it was wine), the year before it was driving around New Orleans in a taxi with some guy from Arizona at 7:00 in the morning. Don’t remember his name either. We called him Arizona. So why would this year be any different? We found ourselves in Byron Bay at the Byron Beach Bar, where all of the Pretty people hang out.

So we had drinks. For me, that meant approximately $60 down the tube and only a mild buzz. I don’t know how often I can stress the importance of sticking with beer or wine. It’s SO much cheaper. The pre-mixed whiskey drinks with Coke are really popular. Like the Jim Beam and Coke in a can. Funny. The only time I’ve drank them at home was on canoing trips where glass bottles weren’t allowed.

Guess what? No Captain Morgan here. I think America’s number uno advantage to the rest of the world is that we have Captain Morgan’s. Everything else is crap, but we have great spiced rum.

Despite the lack of Captain, I still managed to get drunk enough to pee in between the vans of the surfing school on the way back to the hotel. I know it’s gross. But it REALLY was a long walk. You would have done the same after walking about a mile AFTER standing in the after-hours club line for 45 minutes.

Best part of the day? Seeing the beer bottle sitting on the ledge outside the Detox Center.

– Carrie

Based on great native advice, we decided to make a trip down to the tiny towns of Yamba and MaClean to see some Real Aussie coastal action. So the plan was to go to Yamba, rent a board and catch some more waves. We got to Yamba, got yelled out buy some old mate because Elizabeth supposedly almost ran over his toes and got no board. Apparently, there is only one guy who rents boards in Yamba and he was out of the “office” (his home) teaching classes. Word to the wise, if you want to surf in Yamba, call Joey ahead of time or you’re probably SOL. We hung out on the beach for a bit and headed to MaClean for lunch.

MaClean is THE Scottish town of Australia. They have all of the different family tartans (plad patterns) pained on the telephone poles around town. A lot of Aussies of Scottish descent make the trip there to find their tartan. Our first lunch choice was the MaClean Hotel. It was a gorgeous historic structure on the main street and seemed like an interesting lunch destination. We walked in and old men we sitting around betting on horses. They even had odds sheets printed and taped to the walls. Very cool, but they only served greasy fried pub food. So we walked around trying to find another place and ended up at some run of the mill cafe that was much like all of the cafes in Byron Bay. It was okay, but nothing to write home about. Then we were off to Lennox Head.

Don’t miss the Big Prawn between MaClean and Lennox Head.

Lennox Head was where the fun started. It started, but then ended kind of abruptly. We stopped in to see Lake Answorth. Lake Answorth is a lake right over the hill from the Pacific that is infused with tea tree oil. It makes it dark brown like a place where you’d film “Creature from the Black Lagoo, Part IV.” The water is supposed to be great for your skin, but it didn’t really do anything for me. So I bet you can guess what I did. I headed for the beach. It was much different than the Byron beaches in that it stretched on to the horizon. There was a big group of people playing some sort of sport that looked like baseball. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. So I went to investigate. It turns out that it was cricket and the people were English. Of-course I had to join up and show off my baseball prowess. I actually did pretty well with everything, but they made fun of me for holding the cricket bat like a baseball bat. Is that wrong? Baseball on the beach. You can’t beat that with a stick…or a cricket bat. We could have potentially made best friends with the English chaps, but I got scared off because there were a lot of girls in the group. I’d hate to get beat up by some English chick on the beach for talking to her boyfriend. Not my idea of vacation. Oh well, just another passed hang out with English boys opportunity.

– Carrie

If you’re staying in Byron, you can skip Yamba. The beaches are nice, but hiring a surfboard is nearly impossible. Instead, save your petrol and head barely south to Lennox Head. The town offers both a sandy beach and a murky lake. No worries, the latter’s waters are the result of nearby tea trees, not pollution. The lake is a tranquil relaxation spot, and the tea tree oil-infused waters offer sunburn relief and softer hair. You can use the remainder of your afternoon for a sunset horseback ride on Seven Mile Beach.

If you do head to Yamba, make the short trip to Maclean. In honor of the town’s Scottish heritage, the light poles feature a variety of tartans. Though you’ll be hard-pressed to find traditional Scottish food along Maclean Street, you can enjoy the tortilla stack and a mocha at the CoffeeArt Coffee Shop.

Cheers – Elizabeth