BEAUTY IN CHAOS: EL FIN.

August 9, 2018

It’s 7:21 pm and I am sitting in a cheap hotel room above a casino somewhere in the middle of the central coast of Australia, after driving for 9 hours straight from Byron Bay and just escaping from a nearby hostel I was supposed to stay in with three 40 year old meth heads. But let me rewind…

Yesterday, August 8, marked the start of the fourth week that I have been traveling solo now. And it has been nothing short of a crazy, awesome adventure. Right after Marley flew back home, I went on to Canggu, Bali—where I spent the next two weeks getting to know the town, making new friends, doing yoga, exploring new eateries, and surfing. I made a couple of good friends at the first place I stayed, one from Switzerland and the other from the Netherlands. Even as we parted ways in Canggu, we all kept in touch and met up throughout the next couple weeks. Dany and I surfed together at a spot called Old Man’s on the only normal size day before the Godzilla swells come rolling in (Old Man’s became known as “Young Man’s” due to the 15 foot faces that started breaking at the usually mellow semi-reef break). The first week in Canggu, it was an interesting but easy adjustment into traveling alone. Bali is also a good place to travel alone as a young adult, because it is so easy to meet people if you want to. By the time the second week rolled around, I was already well adjusted and very comfortable in Bali. I knew the streets, the shortcuts (motorbiking around a village helps you get your bearings quite quickly), places to eat, the local owners of a couple cafes that I would routinely stop in for coffee, etc. 

My week at the surf camp was great. I was checking in at the same time as an Australian guy named Matt, and after we put our stuff down I invited him to get lunch with me and a friend I had met during my first week in Canggu. He just arrived so he said sure and I told him to hop on the back of the motorbike. Without much questioning and slightly surprised at himself, he climbed on and said “Jeez I have never trusted a girl with my life this much, and I met you five minutes ago.”  

Matt and I (and a super nice German girl named Hannah whom I got along with right away) along with a big group of other people visiting from all over, mostly Germany and Switzerland however, became quite close over the week—spending hours together in car rides to the surf breaks, sometimes two sessions per day, eating meals together or just hanging out at the camp. Despite the swell being absolutely massive, the surf guides tried to take us to more sheltered spots on the island, where we were able to score some fun waves. Needless to say, there were definitely a couple times I got completely worked—and some of the bus rides back consisted of a group of surfed-out, sleeping and hungry zombies. I don’t know the next time I will be able to surf beautiful waves without a wetsuit, so I tried not to take it for granted. 

One day after surfing, I was missing the ukulele I left at home. So I set out on a mission to find one. I ended up walking four miles outside of Canggu to some obscure, knock-off music store, where they only had cheap plastic ukuleles. Yet, somehow I walked out of there 600,000 rupiah (about $35) poorer and a minature wooden guitar over my shoulder.

I have no idea how to play the guitar.

I couldn’t have cared less though, I shall learn, I thought. Moreover, I was simply excited to have an instrument since the following week I would be road tripping up the east coast of Australia and could definitely use the cheap entertainment. On my way back I stopped at a Warung (local Indonesian food place—which by the end of my trip were my preferred food places to eat at over the trendy cafes) and ordered a plate of Nasi Campur with veggies—a huge delicious meal—for $1.10. I already knew I was going to miss this when I get to Australia and the price of an apple is $3.  

 Leaving Bali was bittersweet. Canggu had become somewhat of a temporary home and I was sad to leave all the people I had befriended—though that’s the cool part of traveling, you make connections with people from all over the world. I look forward to reuniting with them somewhere else on the globe next time. 

The day I arrived in Sydney, I went to the hostel where I would be staying for two nights—a great place right on beautiful Bondi Beach. That night, I went to an awesome music gig with two friends that I met in Bali and one of their friends. It was an amazing scene—this guy turned his apartment into a venue where he hosts local music gigs every couple weeks with different artists or bands performing each time. This week was a talented jazz band. We arrived a little late so we sat right in front and I got to observe quite closely how much energy it takes to play the saxophone... It amazes me how captivating and impressive music is—there is so much insane talent out there that most of the world will never get to bear witness to. Sometimes I really think I could sit down and listen to live music all day and all night.

Two days later, I rented a little red hatchback car and began my trip up the coast, with no plan in mind other than reaching Byron Bay.  

Australia is big. Bigger than I anticipated. So I decided to stop halfway between Sydney and Byron for my first night, in a town called Port Macquarie. I pulled into the harbor right around sunset, and quickly grabbed the tortillas and canned fish I bought and made a little wrap for dinner as I sat on the grass and pondered where I would sleep that night.

The next day I headed to my final destination, but decided to stop at a world surfing reserve in a town called “Yamba.” I will spare you the details of this mishap adventure....but long story short. As I was getting ready to leave this beautiful beach, something was going on with my vision and I couldn’t focus on anything. I looked up and tried to read a sign, but my vision had become completely blurred and half the words disappeared.

I have a history of getting migraines with an aura, but it has been years since I had one last. But I knew exactly what was happening. So I got into my car, leaned the seat back and put a dark shirt over my eyes while I waited for my vision to come back and the pain of the headache to kick in. Strangely enough, I wasn’t panicked at all. Pulled off in an empty beach lot, somewhere along the coast of Australia, completely alone, and entirely unable to see, much less operate a vehicle. There are few times you feel truly so helpless and vulnerable as being alone and blind in a foreign country. But oh well, I knew it would pass within a half hour (or so I hoped) so I waited until the sharp head pain kicked in which usually means I can see again. I had never been so happy to feel the pain of a migraine, because it meant my vision would be returning and I could finish my drive to Byron before the sun set. 

The little mishaps on my way up, were all worth it. I spent three days in Byron where I stayed at the nicest hostel (more like a hotel) and roomed with 2 (later became 4) British guys and a Japanese guy (who’s nickname is Sushi since he is a sushi chef/barber). I had such a blast and we all quickly became friends—provided with nonstop laughter and entertainment by Sushi who was the man of many trades. One night he even sat next to a musician who playing a live acoustic guitar show, and he just started playing the bongo drum. With such remarkable confidence and a good enough rhythm, Sushi just sat there smiling as if he was the newest member of this guy's one man show—but the musician liked his energy and decided not to ask him to leave. We woke up one morning to see the sunrise at a lighthouse on the point—a beautiful and peaceful scene, spent the days biking into town or hanging out at the beach and paddle boarding (I tried to SUP surf the micro-waves since it was too small to surf). 

When I left Byron last night, hugs all around were in order. Jack, the youngest of the English brothers, told me I was like the much smaller (he is 6’4) older sister he never had, and it truly warmed my heart. We had known each other only three days. I don’t know what it is about traveling, or maybe it’s traveling alone—but so many of the connnections you make with people are so honest and meaningful. Of course, I feel as though I have been unbelievably lucky with the quality people I have met on my journeys. But there really are so many great people out there. 

So this morning I woke up at 6:30 am, crawled out of bed careful not to wake the whole country of England that I was sharing a room with, and drove off to McTavish Surfboard company where I got to check out the surfboards from one of my biggest shaping inspirations, Bob McTavish, while grabbing a coffee and a croissant for my 8 hour drive ahead of me. I stopped for a half hour at the Koala Hospital along the way where they rescue sick and injured koala bears and then rehabilitate them before returning them to the wild. They are so gosh darn cute. 

Completely parched, hungry, and tired I finally pulled into a strange town in Central Coast Australia (not even comparable to the beautiful California Central Coast in my opinion) and checked into my hostel. You know how people say trust your gut? Well, I am a big supporter of that. I walked into my room which was a colorful, dimly lit and small space where a couple middle aged woman with rotted teeth smiled at me while shuffling through their stuff. It only took me about 5 seconds to realize I would not sleep for a second in that room. I lied about having to be in Sydney for work that night and booked it out of there. I found this hotel, 30 minutes away, but it was the cheapest I could find so I booked it. Life tip #2: Always keep an emergency savings, in case you need to get out of a situation like this.

It is now 8:51. I am sitting in a cheap hotel above a casino in Australia after driving 9 hours straight, and I am completely drained.

But I have the biggest smile on my face—because it has been some of the best 7 weeks of non-stop adventure. Yes, that includes the the mishaps and the plot twists, not just surfing in beautiful Bali, hiking through a rainforest to a secluded beach in Australia, going to see live music or caring for elephants in Thailand. 

Tomorrow I will see Lizie, one of my childhood friends from Melbourne who I haven’t seen in 6 years and who is flying up to Sydney for my last weekend here. I couldn’t be more excited to wrap this trip up hanging out with her in Bondi Beach, before flying back to California. There have been so many more hilarious, wonderful, crazy, strange stories from the past 7 weeks, but it would become a novel and not just a blog post if I tried to include them all. But trust me when I say, no adventure is truly an adventure without the good and the bad. Without the beauty and the ugly.

Catch you all on the flip side, cheers!