Missing out the city of Brisbane, I left Noosa for Byron Bay and the start of hippyville and surfing. Byron was a cute town contrasting the need for expensive tourist restaurants and shops with the need to retain it's hippy days. Rainbows and tie-dye competed with fish restaurants and upmarket dining. It did have a certain charm.

I stayed at a hostel which had direct access to the beach, with the main theme being surfing. And indeed surfing was my first adventure here. When I think of surfing the first thing that springs to mind is toned and bronzed surfer adonis and this is what I expected my instructor to be. I was sorely disappointed. A very middle aged guy picked us up with uneven eyes, balding hair and patches of beard which had been missed when shaving. Hmm, well at least I did not have to worry about looking good and attractive! At first it appeared there would be only me as the other two girls booked for the lesson were not at the hostel pick up point. This was not only upsetting for my instructor but also for me. I could not imagine having his sole attention for a full three hours. Luckily the other girls finally turned up. Relief on all sides!

Our instructor took us to a quiet bay about twenty minutes away from Byron because here the beach would be deserted and the waves would be small and long. The fact the waves would be small was something it seems our instructor felt he should impress upon us, as he constantly repeated the fact the entire ride and must have mentioned small waves at least 100 times. And indeed when we did get there the waves were small. However, this worked in our favour. I have tried surfing once before in the UK, but there by the time I had thought about and proceeded to get on the surfboard to stand up the wave always disappeared. Small and long was ideal.

The first attempt I managed to get on to my feet but soon fell off. Same with the second attempt. By the third attempt my brain had managed to reconnect the missing link between thought and body and I got up and even stood on the board for a good few metres. I was extremely impressed. Our instructor had kept his promised that he would get everyone standing, and standing for at least 40 metres before the end of the lesson. By the end I had managed to stand and remain standing for over 50 metres. A miracle! It was amazing and I was extremely impressed with myself! So in the end an ugly instructor, a deserted beach, small and long waves were the making of the surfer in me!

After having had so much activity over the last few days, with the canoeing and then surfing, I decided to relax and had booked a day trip out to Nimbin, the hippie capital. Although cannabis is illegal in New South Wales, in Nimbin it is all part of the hippie culture. I went on an amazing trip called Jim's Alternative Tours. We were picked up in a relic bus, driven by a man that had not grown out of the 60's but was very entertaining and knowledgable. He had lived in this area the whole of his life, still living and fighting for the hippie life and entertained us with such stories as how he had fought against logging companies to preserve the beautiful forest as well as promoting home births! We wound our way to Nimbin with 60s and 70s music blaring out of the system, through beautiful mountains and rocky outcrops featured in Aboriginal tales.

Nimbin itself is a mainly one street, filled with rainbow stores and health places. We wandered around the Nimbin museum, a random higgledy piggeldy place, a relic to a stoned mind and promotion of weed. It was unlike any other museum I had been in. Even the curators appeared stoned. There was the hemp embassy and a variety of new age stores. As cannabis is illegal, no one was selling outright in the stores but I was approached several times by the locals asking if I wanted any. A very interesting place!

We wound back from Nimbin stopping at Paul Recher's 32 hectare private Eden. This derranged but very intelligent man bought the place which apparently only had one tree. Over several decades he has grown it into a rambling, untamed beautiful botanical garden. The man greeted us in pyjama bottoms and a top that had no hope of matching. Before we had even walked 10 yards down the path he started a rant/rave on the equality of society and this continued for the rest of the tour, broaching a variety of topics and even including quantam physics! Intelligent - yes! Mad - yes! The gardens though were outstanding and well worth the visit.

Our final stop was in the World Heritage Nightcap National Park to view the Minyon Falls. Apparently dropping 100 metres, it was unfortunate that when we arrived it was one of only a few times it had dried up. Typical! Still the view was stunning.

Finally landing back in Byron, the tour had left me in a bit of a daze and I was certainly glad to be getting the bus and moving onto Sydney.