Australians refer to Byron Bay as the “hippie” town.  It is a small coastal town with lots of cafes, surf shops, and a handful of oceanfront hotels.  The main beach has a variety of surf breaks.  Our apartment was located right in front of the Wreck because the remains of an old ship wreck can be seen above water where the waves break.    At the south end of the beach is the Pass, where the waves wrap around the point to form multiple right hand breaks all the way to the shore.  There is a lovely coastal walkway that is great for running and follows the shoreline south from the Wreck all the way to the lighthouse. Just south of the light house is Lennox head, another beautiful surf break.  Willie says it was the best surf he had in all of Australia.

The Wreck surf break.  The black thing that looks like a dragon head is the remains of an old ship wreck.

The beach at Wreck’s in from of our apartment.

The light house at Byron Bay.

One day we went to check out the surf at Wategoes and saw this stand up paddle boarding surfing with a pod of dolphins.

Lennox Head.

We left Fiji and flew into Brisbane, Australia on April 27th.  The next day we headed up to Noosa Heads and for the following 3 weeks surfed our way down the coast to Sydney.  Prior to our trip we had heard a lot of negative things about Australia.  People had told us that it was very expensive, crowded and too developed along the coast line.

We found the small coastal towns to be quite charming and the beached beautiful.  There are lovely coastal walkways that extend for miles with amazing views of the ocean.  We arrived just as the low season was beginning, so we missed a lot of the crowds and prices for accommodations had dropped.  By renting small apartments, we were able to cook at home, saving quite a bit of money.

Everyone in Australia surfs, so there are crowds at most breaks.  Luckily, we had the time to seek out uncrowded surf. There were beach breaks and point breaks, lefts and rights, big waves and small waves.  It was a great place for the whole family.

We also LOVED seeing the koalas, kangaroos, and wallabies!  The kids are still trying to talk us in to buying a wallaby.

Excerpts from my journal, April 21st, cont.

As we approach the island it looks just like it did in all the photos.   An island shaped like a heart, bordered in white sand and placed in the middle of the south pacific.  The ownership is shared by the village people of Tavarua and two couples from the United States.

The staff is standing on the shore wearing floral shirts and sulus, guitars and ukelales in hand, playing a traditional Fijian tune.  We slowly glide towards the shore as the music builds, the smiles widen and the song ends with a load, “Bula!”.  The guests are helped off the boats and instructed to register at the office and enjoy our stay. I don’t think that will be hard to do.

After registering, we head down the cobble stone pathway to Bure 6.  There is a ceramic bucket of water at the base of the steps to wash the sand off our feet and a few steps lead up to a small porch.  The one room bure has 3 double beds and a bathroom.  A couple of paintings of island woman hang on the wall and the beams over head are wrapped in Tapa and adorned with shells. There are fresh cut bird of paradise and white habiscus around the room. 

The noon conch shell call signals the start of lunch.  We feast on the first of many delicious meals of fresh fish, fruits, and salads.  Sweet potatoe, pumpkin, coconut milk, curries, rice, tuna, and sashimi will fill our plates for the next seven days. 

The small pool sits under the palms surrounded by lounge chairs.  Water cascades down a small waterfall at the far end of the pool. The spa sits there empty during the heat of the day but will soon welcome the tired muscles of the surfers as the sun sets.  It doesn’t take long to begin to sense the magic of this island.  We jump in.

Excerpt from my journal, April 20^th

We load up the van in at Waidroka and head to the Tavarua Boat Landing.  Another 2 hour drive through villages, down a long dirt road to a small parking area in the bush.  I see a glimps of the ocean through the trees and beyond the truck that is backed up to the waters edge. There are a handful of Fijian women sitting cross legged on the ground at the edge of their blanket.  In front of them lies hand made jewelry made from the shells and fish bones.   I listen to one women tell me how my purchase will help the people in her village.  The heat is too much and I retreat to the shade of the tree with a tinge of guilt for not buying.  It is not the money, but there is just no more room for little trinkets in our already stuffed bags. 

I am still not sure if we are at the right landing.  There is nothing else here, no covered area, no signs, no toilets, just organized chaos as a bus of people arrive and this big truck unloads heaps of luggage and surfboards.  Finally someone approaches us and asks if we are going to Tavarua.  We hand over our luggage and watch it disappear on a ponga.  Time passes and we barely hear the call “Tavarua”, that alerts us to the boarding of our passenger boat.  We wade out through the calf deep water trying to keep our cameras and laptops dry.  This is not exactly what I expected but I like the local feel and bit of adventure. 

I look around at the other 20 people on the boat and the 20 people loading on the boat next to us that has Tavarua painted on the bow.  These are the people we will be staying with on this heart shaped island the size of a couple of football fields.  We will be sharing meals, boat rides out to the surf, and various other activities.   I wonder who has been here before, if anyone, and if they are having the same concerns about whether or not their luggage and boards will arrive safely on the island. Most of all I wonder if I will like them. 

Van ride to Tavarua Landing.

Roadside villages.

Vendors at the landing.

Organized chaos.

Ponga filled with surfboards.

Wading out to the boat.

While the boys were out surfing, Aimee and I spent a lot of time swimming at the pool, kayaking, playing cards, snorkeling, reading, and writing.  We bonded with all the other girlfriends and wives left behind while their partners were out surfing.  Although there are women who surf big reef breaks, there are not many of them.  I am certainly not one of those women who is strong enough or brave enough.  Aimee and I are both adventurous, though.  One day we kayaked out from the bay, down the shore line to a river that headed inland through the jungle.  Mangroves formed a tunnel as we paddled deeper inland.  Eventually the river winds into a local village but we never made it that far.  We were happy just enjoying the stillness and remoteness of the jungle, and the sound of the beautiful bird calls.  Unfortunately, we left our cameras behind, fearing that they might get wet in the rougher waters on the way to the river mouth.

Swimming at the pool.

Playing pool.

Playing cards.

Checking out the local Flora.

Eating family style dinner and sharing surf stories.

Playing guitar with new friends.