September 6, 2015
Byron Bay: A four and a half metre what?
It felt good to stand proudly at the most easterly point of the Australian mainland on the cliffs at Byron Bay. I had crossed a third continent and I was on the verge of taking a long and hard-earned rest from the road. But more than that I was now at the very edge of the eastern hemisphere. Ahead of us was the unimaginable vastness of the Pacific Ocean. I had quite literally cycled as far east as I could. We were going to need a boat.
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The previous day had brought us from our camp at the koala refuge here to Byron. For the most part it had been an uneventful day, memorable only for the moment when Dea accidentally locked a cleaning woman in a village hall and left her there, noting positively that she had a big cake to sustain her. Then after a day spent on small country roads we approached Byron Bay in the light drizzle. I'd cycled halfway around the world for this and it looked just like home.
But Byron Bay itself bore no resemblance to England, at least not once the rain showers had passed. We cycled into it that evening and caught a brief glimpse of the interesting mix of people drawn to this place before the $1,000 fines on offer for camping illegally in the town drove us out again. Retreating to a forested area south of Byron we made camp in the dark and spent our evening on a beautiful stretch of beach.
In the morning we retraced our steps back into Byron Bay and cycled up the steep hill to the lighthouse that marked the eastern most point of mainland Australia. As if sharing this milestone with the wonderful Dea wasn't already special enough we were in for a real treat, as making their way around the rocks below us swam dozens of whales. We watched these magnificent animals for ages, enthralled by their size and power as they breached and sprayed foams of water into the air on their long journey back south to their Antarctic feeding grounds.
After watching the whales for a long time we made our way back down the hill into the middle of Byron Bay. A curious little town, traditionally a hippy-hangout that these days seems to cater to all types of people, many of whom were so intrigued by the sight of our bicycles that they stopped to say hello to us. We had religious preachers and charity members, a drunk, a guy who wanted to travel by bike, and all of them crazy. But the most interesting moment occurred when a fat bearded man dressed only in Speedos approached us. He told us he'd just been for a swim and then they'd made him and everyone else get out, as there was a four and a half metre shark in the water. That explained the helicopter that was circling overhead. He went on to tell us that there had been six shark attacks in the last two months. That settled it. I was never going swimming in Australia. Ever.
Out of Byron Bay we were fortunate enough to have a cycle path for a while, at least until we connected to the highway north. Google maps had an on-road cycle path marked as running alongside the highway here, so we decided to just follow it north. Big mistake. Google was wrong, the shoulder of the highway was not suitable as a bicycle lane and in fact was very narrow and on one particular section with a left curve and a roadside barrier and no shoulder was extremely dangerous. But we survived it. Which was good.
We were able to get off the highway before too long and knew we could enjoy some nice back-roads for the rest of the way to Gold Coast. With 24 hours to go until we arrived there we were making good progress, and stopped again to sit on another beach and take in the beautiful views. It was so lovely having such a paradise to ourselves and the only downside was the great alarm that Dea caused me by deciding to go for a paddle in the water despite my desperate cries of “Are you crazy? There are sharks!”
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After the town of Potsville we decided to make camp and found a track that led out to the beach once again. It was in a forested area and was great for hiding, so we weren't too worried about the sign saying that the fine for camping here was $550 (or as Dea put it “Ooo, half price!”) So we found a perfect place to camp for our last night before the new adventure that lay ahead of us, put up the tent and for one final time lay down on the beach and watched the surf roll in and the stars come out.
06/09/15 – 68km
07/09/15 – 55km
Today's ride: 123 km (76 miles)
Total: 47,237 km (29,334 miles)
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