Excitement built as we neared landing in Sydney. I didn’t get much sleep on the flight, my mind had been exploring all of the daydreams I had about what my time in Australia would be like.
For the last few years I’ve had this insatiable curiosity about Australia and New Zealand. Whenever I found myself thinking about traveling to them, chills would come over my whole body. I got this deep sense of knowing that something was there for me and it was inarguable that I would go. Few times in my life have such feelings permitted my heart to lead and been the reason for making certain life decisions. When I decided I was going to travel after school, the reason for choosing to head to the most east and southern part of the globe versus going for a Europe excursion, was because of my deep desire to come to Australia. Bali, although a place I have wanted to come to as well, was ultimately a byproduct of my choosing to head in that direction. It was only a short 6 hour flight from Denpasar to Sydney.
So alas, I had arrived. I made an attempt to switch my SIM card for an Aussie one, but to no avail, just the same case as in Sweden and Bali. (Found out much later that I had no success since my phone hadn’t been paid off yet in the States..who knew). Thanks to my foreign shuttle driver with the utmost pride for the city of Sydney, the shuttle ride to my first hostel was an entertaining one.
The day was bright and among one of the warmer ones the city had felt in a while. I caught word of a free tour that took you around the major parts and sights of Sydney and happily joined; the time I would spend in the city was undecided at that point, but I knew I wanted to head up the east coast soon enough.
We walked through Hyde Park and alongside the 360 rotating bar, through the busy downtown streets of working professionals. I learned plenty about English-Australian history of early settlement and why the two countries share many symbolisms with one another. The tour concluded in tall overlook point across from the Opera House and to the right of the Harbour bridge. I was taken by surprise; Sydney is a massive city yet operates very smoothly. It’s clean and efficient and it doesn’t feel overcrowded. It kind of escaped my mind that this was one of the major cities of the world.
Being a backpacker and all, I had only brought two pairs of shoes. Blundstone boots and sandals. In the far north of Sweden the boots sufficed just fine as did the sandals in Bali. But after more than four hours of walking around the city on that particularly hot day, my feet were close to exploding out of the boots from swelling. I found a Vans shoe shop and knew I was making a sound investment.
After another day of exploration, I went east to Bondi Beach. To this day I am still looking for the right words to describe how I felt when I was there for a short week. Expensive shops line the side of the street that parallels the water and a boardwalk follows the shore. That well-known zone of Bondi Beach is relatively short, placing surfers, lazy beach dwellers, and shoppers in the cross lines of one another. For a night I stayed in the nicest hostel (as far as upkeep goes) that was right off the water. Wake Up Bondi Beach was the name. I determined at that point, however, that the energy and vibe of a hostel meant much more to me than the space being kept immaculate. I spent the remaining five days at Bondi Beach Backpackers right around the corner.
The universe works in truly divine ways and right around the time I was ready to head north, a friend of a friend connected me with his friend Claudia to catch a ride up to Byron Bay. Friends, friends, friends. It’s worth it to mention the story of how I came to meet Claudia. Just a few weeks before leaving the States, I was out with a friend at my favourite bar in Santa Cruz. I ended up running into another close mate and he introduced to me to Maribeth, a very kind lady who I had spent some months in Melbourne not long ago. When I told her of my plan, she connected me via Instagram to her two friends out in Aus, Kane and Ash. Fast forward three months, I get a message from Kane mentioning that his friend Claudia would be road tripping up the coast and I could tag along. And so that Tuesday morning we were on our way.
I didn’t realize how ready I was to leave Bondi until I had. The 10 hour drive north was a nice reset and our time together was spent in both peaceful silence and stimulating conversation. Claudia’s energy was wholesome, artistic, and fluid and I felt a familiarity between us that was deeply appreciated.
The landscape morphed as we drove. Native eucalyptus trees lined the roadway and then broke to reveal expansive golden hills. At times I was reminded of home from the similarities until we saw a wild kangaroo. Dream come true. As we got closer to Byron, dark smoke clouds became more familiar and the sun turned a scarlet orange. The beginning of fire season. And relentless it has been since my departure. But none the less beautiful.
The energy was alive when I arrived at the Arts Factory and soon enough I found myself walking with my new dorm mate to buy a bottle of wine and nestle into the common room for the Tuesday night talent show. I was cast into a sea of sublime inspiration and rested quite well.
I had my stay at the Arts Factory for the next five weeks and while each day provided me with tantalizing curiosity, I choose to highlight the moments of pause worthiness here, for it would be too long otherwise.
The Arts housed a wide array of people from all over the world and I was instantaneously cast into a sea of total wonderment. My first night I met a fellow from the UK and in the following days some from Italy and France. A birthday was celebrated and it felt as though the whole lot of the hostel had come together to enjoy. This was in fact due to the sheer number of people occupying the grounds and with an equal lust to meet new faces and indulge in the moment.
Nearly a week in, I met my people if you will, other individuals that ended up staying longer than initially anticipated. One of them was my best mate Cam. We took a liking to one another quickly and the moments we spent were of equal fascination for exploration and people and each other. Knowing him was by far one of the most significant and challenging relationships I have experienced thus far in my life. In the short time we spent together (and this is certainly what added to the intensity), we beheld some of the most beautiful experiences. Late night trips on the town with other sincere friends and nestling close for sleeps on the nights we were in hostel room transition. Slow walks to the market to get food for the coming days or simply lounging in the Arts square to line up for a game of chess with our other mate Tom.
But counter to those instances, we also fought like hell. Testing one another’s boundaries and habitual notions of what was “right” and “wrong.” The passion that flooded my body in these moments surmounts all of the passive relationships I have engaged in in the past. I had to question the validity of certain mishaps, not fully understanding then if I was prime for honourable recognition on his behalf or if my stance was more righteous. I am being vague only because the wherewithal of it does not matter. In whatever case stood, one of us happened to come around to the other and admit to a new found vantage point. I think that is what I found so beautiful and enticing. Learning alongside one another in a touchy and raw setting and in a very short period of time. This stands testament to many relationships you form while out on the road traveling.
I know something Cam and I can agree upon, as can many other fellow travelers I am sure. The times shared are quick, powerful, and spontaneous. And so are the goodbyes. You never know when your closest mate of even just a few weeks or months might up and leave. Nobody speaks of the goodbyes like they do of the first encounters. But they possess just the same weight, holy oh my they do.
I remember clearly the bulk of my nights being spent in the presence of live Byron Street music. So much talent. At one point I remember considering the music I listen to most~nearly all of it is from Australia by no particular insinuation and the most significant sect is found within the small confines of Byron Bay. Tora Music is one of them and I was blessed to see them while I was there. A $33 dollar performance in which I attended alone and to my delight. They were a unique bunch of boys, witty and sensational to the moment at hand and it felt like they were home when they performed, if that makes sense. Uncut and honest to their production fuck ups, shape shifting their usual song flow to that of the home audience. It makes me smile to think of it now.
Within that same time frame I spent a lot of time alone. Solo walks, solo trips to the store, a solo workout on the beach. I hadn’t packed running shoes and so I made my way to the beach barefoot or buried my sandals in the grass to satiate my need for movement. I also ate more intuitively, following the rhythms of hostel kitchen cooking~you are either up earlier than the mass or you don’t mind waiting for the mass to clear out. Perhaps you enjoy a coffee in that meantime and skip lunch all together to reconvene around 4-5pm before the masses arrived once again. This was a typical schedule for myself.
Byron bestowed a sort of mesmeric beauty that captivated me. I always felt good and my body adept. Whether I was alone or with other friends, the times were sweet and simple. I crave that as inherent to my nature.
I walked a lot, everywhere in fact. One day I had the opportunity to rent a bike and I traveled four or five miles outside of town to a thrift store and holistic grocery store. I found myself the coolest few pieces of clothing and had myself a carob chocolate before starting back home to the Arts.
It was mostly bliss. A triumphant few weeks in which I learned so much about my tendencies and ways of doing through the exploration of people and experiences.
My last few days concluded in so lovely rapture. Cam and I reconciled nearly all our time spent with one another and fully enjoyed the remaining time unimpeded with altercation. We took tattoos together, mine of the healing capacities I stand for and his some lighthearted yet impactful times of memory. I discovered how quickly my heart can open to new people and in a short amount of time. Love pervades boundaries of what should and shouldn’t be and I felt that deeply in the mutual notes exchanged amongst ourselves.
Very importantly, I established my guidelines for the future. As far as what I would like to experience, the lightness in possessions that is paramount for myself, and in following what feels right instead of what sounds right. My reality a reflection of my current state of thoughtful affairs and momentary actions. Intentional, beneficial, and impactful I can only hope.
My last two weeks in Byron were tumultuous, faced with daunting decisions of what would come next. I had just begun here, feeling into the energy of Australia and why it felt so right there. My mother’s home had sold back in Santa Cruz and I decided to return to sort out my things and discern my next move from my own financial and energetic standpoint.
Fast forward to this moment now…we are making moves. But that is another story.
Trine Evolve 