Even more significant to me than passing through the QLD/NSW border was our arrival to a place I know so well – Byron Bay. Since my first parentless holiday away at the age of 16 Byron has found a week of space on my yearly calendar without fail. Every Easter I would make the trip up with my friends to hear the best beats the world has to offer at the Blues & Roots festival.
This year I opted to spend my night waiting for the Easter Bunny on the Nullarbore Plain, a choice I was questioning when a relentless desert storm ripped through our campsite and almost sent me and my tent off the Great Australian Bight cliff top. That night I found comfort in knowing I would be catching up with my home away from home just months later. And here we are.
A place I know so well all of a sudden viewed in a whole new light. We approached it from the north this time, not the south; we have now seen so much more of our country to compare this familiar place to; we arrived here on bikes, that’s a new experience in itself. To think we used to complain about the DRIVE to Byron from Sydney! In a few days we will begin the ride home.
I have a little Byron Bay tradition that began the first year we came up on the train from Sydney in 2002. The one thing that everyone must do when they visit Byron is to see an East coast sunrise from the lighthouse at Cape Byron. The immense, steep cliffs reach down to the gnarly rocks tracing out the shoreline. In a constant battle between land and sea, the wave action hammers tirelessly at the equally stubborn rock that has withstood eons of watery onslaughts. Meanwhile, the world is moving at a slightly different pace in the distance. Without a sound, an enormous ball of light begins to rear its head out on the horizon. The sky responds with an array of colours from orange to purple and everything in between. Some birds decide to improve the aesthetic further by floating through the air towards the sun. We all sit and watch in silence and sheer appreciation.
These are the memories I have of my experiences up there. Although the crew would slightly change each year, the wondrous experience remained constant. However, as this year has been such a time of change in my life, it was only fitting that Cape Byron also revealed to me something new and unexpected. The lead up to our experience was very similar to the previous years, with Meri and I deciding to grab sleeping bags, a pillow, food and water for an earlier than necessary set up. Missing it would be a school boy error.
We set up underneath the lighthouse with a prime position for the morning sun. Then the rain came – thick and fast, with no intentions of an intermission. We found refuge in the lighthouse entry alcove, on the opposite side to the water. The rain and clouds stayed around till the morning, foiling the view that was embedded in my memory from the years before. I was glad it did. I saw the place in a new light, as it has surely been so many times before – no people around (except the occasional keen jogger), no cameras endlessly flicking away, no sailboat on the horizon... nothing but nature in its rawest form. We let the rain come down on us, seeing it as a privilege given that we went 7 months of our tour without feeling a drop. We finished the morning off with a wander back to the road through the freshly-watered rainforest track. I realised this morning that we often enjoy some situations more than others, but should always try to embrace change and the unexpected... you know what they say about variety.
Quote of the Day:
“Variety's the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavour” - William Cowper (English Poet One of the most widely read English poets of his day, 1731-1800)
Matt
matt@mypower.org.au