Discovering our spiritual side in Byron Bay

Leaving the Gold Coast we returned to New South Wales, stopping off at Byron Bay for 4 days before travelling down to Sydney. We have heard so much about Byron Bay from other travellers 'The best place on the beaten track' stated one, 'hippy central of Australia' claimed another and 'The Amsterdam of the southern hemisphere' cried a third. Curiouser and curiouser. On arrival Byron Bay resembled a very pretty surfing town with a lovely beach, welcoming atmosphere, quaint shops and, as David Brent would say, had 'a 70's vibe'. Flamboyant shops sell everything from crystals and bongs to dungarees and tie-dyed tunics. Every other shop offers alternative medicine or massage therapies. Young and aging hippies alike gather in the centre to play the triangle, smoke, swap philosophies or discuss the latest meditation technique. Even the bins implore you to 'feel the love in Byron'. You may sense a note of derision. Well, we have nothing against spirituality, well being and freedom of speech, in fact Beth's new year resolution is to stop being so anally retentive and to do something 'spiritual'. But somehow in Byron, or more specifically The Arts Factory where we stayed, the majority just seem pretentious as they tried to 'out-philosophise' each other. But it's a fantastic spectator sport for anyone who loves people watching or is interested in sociology. We had a ball!

At the eccentric Arts Factory, Lucy stayed in dorms and Steve & Beth on the very rustic campsite. Even the bathrooms were outdoors and Beth really found herself at one with nature when she discovered she had been showering with a carpet python above her head, asleep in the rafters. Not venomous she was assured and it apparently added character. Silly Beth, of course it does. Coming back from a particularly heavy night at The Buddha Bar (are you starting to see a theme here?) when we all danced with wild abandon in the rain (barefoot of course), we discovered that the entire campsite had been flooded and several tents washed away. We got off lightly with only a puddle inside accompanied by a swarm of mosquitoes. Our hapless neighbour's on the other hand were not so lucky and we watched as their tie-dyed tarpaulin collapsed around their heavily pierced ears.

Then the next day it happened. Whilst at the lighthouse to see what is considered one of the most beautiful sunrises in Australia, Beth (rather spectacularly actually) flew one metre in the air and fractured her foot. She then promptly passed out, almost causing an enthusiastic jogger to do the same. A day of x-rays and hospitals ensued and Beth was confined to watching hippies at the Arts Factory for the next two days whilst Lucy made the pilgrimage to Nimbin (for lovers of all things herbal) and Steve surfed his little heart out. Karma, some may say, for her decidedly derisive attitude to the Budda-loving Byronites.

The final day was spent in the Pighouse Flicks. Zebra-patterned sofas lined the floor and whilst Steve and Beth stuffed their faces with salted popcorn, Lucy snuggled up with one of the teddy bears placed strategically around the cinema. We would have liked to stay longer to 'find ourselves' but Christmas in Sydney was calling and we boarded the bus. Or in Beth's case limped then promptly fell down the aisle.