In response to a post by Tom who is travelling soon along the NSW Coast, I was inspired to share some travel advice which I thought I would also share here. Hey Tom, as I am originally from the North Coast – Porpoise Spit as I sometimes call it – I can offer a bit of advice about that area.
Hereś a few suggested stops… as you drive from Sydney north to Brisbane (and goodness knows I have done the area a few times)
Myall Lakes/Seal Rocks – absolutely beautiful area. Itś well worth going off the Pacific Highway for a while. You see the bush and the coast meet. A good friendś parents have a holiday house there which I stayed at a couple of years ago. Just beautiful.
Crescent Head – near Kempsey – is a great little coastal town. The coast curves around and thereś lots to see. The pub is the centre of community activity on almost any night and itś a nice spot too.
Yamba – A really nice seaside town which is undergoing some development, but is still nice. Catch the punt over to Iluka if you want a more general coastal town.
New Italy – a little heritage park about the large number of Italians who settled on the North Coast. Quite a fascinating story. And they serve half-decent coffee.
Keep going straight through Ballina and head to Lennox…
Lennox Head – one of the great secrets is Lake Ainsworth. The lake is surrounded by ti-tree, giving the water a dark colour. We used to call it the coke lake as a child, as the colour of the water resembles coca cola. Itś great to go for a swim in the ocean and then to chill out at Lake Ainsoworth. Total secret – dont tell anyone!
Lismore – call in and say hi to my family. OK, not that interesting I guess.
Nimbin – itś worth a look, if only to be approached by someone in the street offering you drugs. As a local, I find it all pretty boring, except a good mate from school and his boyfriend now live there. But itś worth a look for novelty value. When people approach you offering drugs, just keep walking.
MInyon Falls – always a favourite as a child, theyŕe a fantastic place to chill out.
Byron Bay – Visit the lighthouse, go to the nudie beach at Kings Beach if you want, and take a brief look. Honestly, itś busier than Bondi though, and not half as interesting IMHO. The nearby town of Brunswick Heads is much nicer.
Pottsville – rather than take the highway, I would suggest a coastal diversion via Wooyung, that takes you to places like Pottsville and KIngscliff.
We had three or four days together sharing a room, and since we’ve been back in Sydney, we’ve caught up on three separate occasions so far.
We caught up again tonight, and once again, we reminisced about our time together. In particular, the night we went out for a few drinks and were dumb-founded by the high cover charges at bars in Stockholm. As I wrote at the time…
We went out for a beer tonight. Well, four actually. A mate of his had recommended Cafe Opera as “the hip place” to go in Stockholm, though when we arrived at about 9.30, there was hardly anyone there. We wandered around for a while, decided it was pointless, and went instead to the tourist haven of Gamla Stan.
After a couple of beers, we decided to give Cafe Opera another go. This time the place was a little busier, though not too much more so, and not exactly the hip and happening place to be on a Friday night. The crowd looked a bit ordinary. The clincher for us was the cover charge of 180kr (about $30). We looked the crowd up and down, decided there was little chance Madonna was inside, and so went looking for somewhere else to have a drink.
We looked at two further bars, both of which had a cover charge in the price range of 150-200kr ($30-40), but neither of which looked exciting enough to justify money which could otherwise be spent on drinking.
The coup de grace was the Irish pub which was charging 100kr (about $20) on the door. To my eyes it looked like any other Irish bar anywhere in the world, possibly full of Australian expats and backpackers. “They should be paying us to enter an Irish pub”, we both agreed.
Tonight there were no cover charges to worry about.
We met at The Dolphin at about 7.30 and had a drink before heading off to dinner at Agave, the newish Mexican place on Crown Street, until it all got too noisy.
We spent most of the night chatting and drinking at The White Horse.
It was there we got into an interesting discussion, albeit it a pointless one, with a drunkish woman sitting next to us. I won’t go into the detail of her argument, but in essence, she was arguing that Sydney wasn’t a particularly friendly place.
She was responding to the admission that Edward and I had met each other in Stockholm, whereas we may not have met each other in Sydney. We both agreed that was true. But we disagreed about Sydney being an unfriendly place. “We met in Stockholm because when you travel your mind is open to new things, and you’re more likely to chat to people and get to know them”, we argued with her.
Aside from that brief interlude, it was just us together having a bit of a chat about our lives. I really like him as a bloke, but there are still some things I don’t feel like I really know about him. I guess, like me, he’s a little secretive, a little reserved.
On both sides of me, young people were busy taking selfies and were totally engrossed in their mobile phones. They were with their friends, but also on their phones. Clearly, it’s a global phenomenon.
While the rest of the tour group went in search of a pedicure, I was eager to find a spot in a cafe, grab an iced coffee, and enjoy the ambiance.
Admittedly, the cafe was located in the heart of the tourist district, but it somehow felt a little more “authentic.”
When I’m in other parts of the world, I often do this and listen in on some of the conversations. Obviously, I can’t do that here, but I can still enjoy the general vibe.
Hoi An is a very different city compared to Hanoi. It feels more affluent.
As we drove in from the airport last night, which took about 45 minutes, we could see the difference in the houses and buildings. The hotel we’re staying in is also much more luxurious and located in a wealthier part of town than where we stayed in Hanoi.
The hotel has a pool, and fortunately, I have a bathtub.
Some members of the tour group went out last night, but we were a little tired and chose to stay at the hotel. I was also still feeling sick, which I concluded was due to dehydration. Drinking lots of hydralites has helped considerably.
This morning, we learned that the city experiences floods similar to those in Lismore. As we sat in a historic house, one of the residents described how they sought refuge on the second story as 2.5 meters of water flooded their house by the river.
Silk scarves
The gender split of our group became apparent as we entered a government building dedicated to arts and crafts. The woman working there told us, “We only have quality silk, and you don’t have to pay extra charges on your credit card.” The women followed her into a room filled with silk scarves, while the men stayed outside. I managed to do both.
We also visited an assembly hall which our guide, Jennifer, described as the most beautiful in Hoi An.
Incense burning in the Assembly Hall, lasting thirty days
An unexpected highlight of the walk was a half-hour show of traditional song and dance. “I could never sit through an entire Vietnamese opera, but this was a great sampler,” I said to Andrea.
Vietnamese operaTraditional dance show in Hoi An
When the morning walk concluded, Ross and Andrea joined the others, while I chose to have an iced coffee and later a beer.
In contrast to Hanoi, Hoi An is DEFNITELY a tourist-friendly town. Almost everyone we met today greeted us with a smile, and when they knew we were from Australia, they responded with a near perfect version of “G’day Mate”.
I’ve always been fascinated by discarded items, items left in the street for rubbish collection or for someone else to pick up and take home. This is especially the case with very personal items, such as suitcases. The suitcase I saw discarded on Wiltshire Lane, Surry Hills this afternoon, was a very old fashioned one.
In the era of backpacks and sturdier construction, this kind of suitcase is hardly ever seen in public anymore, especially not at airports. You might see them at the Country Platform, but never at Sydney Airport. It’s the kind of suitcase my mum used to store my sister’s wedding dresses. It’s the kind of suitcase that was often recycled from generation to generation, as a child moved out of home to get married, or moved away for travel or work.
Old Suitcase
It’s the grown up version of the “Globite Port” that I first took to school in the early 1970s. I wonder why they’ve thrown it out?
A mate from Sydney who is a tradie called me today for a chat.
“I haven’t worked in about six weeks”, he told me, adding that he had a couple of days work this week and that he has a couple of days coming up.
“But they want me to go out to Blacktown and other hot spots”, he said.
“Central is empty and there’s police everywhere”, he added.
He said he was pleased and maybe a little bit envious that I was well away from it all.
Well, not completely well away from it all.
People in Lismore, I told him, are wearing masks, even when they don’t necessarily need to. Lismore is probably a different case to some other towns in the region, such as Byron Bay and Mullumbimby, where there’s a significant anti-vaxxer movement, and Qanon-related skepticism around COVID.
“The pubs are still open”, I told him, adding to his envy, as he likes a drink. We met at our local pub back in Surry Hills.
He’s originally from Ireland. “The pubs back home are just starting to open up properly”, he said, adding, “But you need to show proof of vaccination”.
Got this on my phone.
As of this week, I have “proof of vaccination”. On Wednesday, I had my second Astra Zeneca vaccination at the Lismore Clinic. Unlike last time, there were no side effects. In fact, I hardly felt the needle.
Lismore Clinic Medical Centre
Going to the Lismore Clinic Medical Centre also gave me an insight into my later life. The busy waiting room was full of older people, though not significantly older than me.
And then I went to the Centrelink / Medicare office.
Do you get where I’m going with this?
For quite some time I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to link my MyGovID and Medicare accounts. I shared this problem with people on Twitter, and there were many who agreed with my post about how difficult it can be.
Though I’m very good with computers and stuff, I sometimes have problems with computer systems recognising my surname, due to the apostrophe. This time around, the problem was that some parts of my identification recognise that I have two middle names, and others don’t.
I had pretty much recognised that was the problem, and so I figured the best way to resolve it was to go into an office and have everything standardised.
I knew in an instant the woman assigned to me was that office’s answer to Carol from Little Britain, the extremely unhelpful person known for the catchphrase “Computers says no”.
As I’m away from home I wasn’t able to show all the necessary identification to make the changes, even though I have them electronically, and so she said I would have to ring the call centre. “But I can’t show them the paper identification either”, I implored her. I don’t know if she got my reference to “Computer says no” when I told her I would do that.
And from there I was back and forward to call centres, between MyGov, Medicare and the ATO.
Finally, I found someone who was extremely helpful. She explained the problem was my first piece of identification came from the Tax Office and that’s where the inconsistency was. “Let’s just start from scratch”, she said. Within minutes, she had resolved the problem.
If that sounds like a fairly mundane highlight of the week, there has been lots more happening.
I took a visit today to visit a friend’s mother who lives in Alstonville. I went to badge draws and meat trays at the Lismore Workers Club, and on Wednesday night, a few of us went to the monthly comedy night at a local pub, the same one I wrote about a few weeks ago.
“You were here last month”, the comedian MC said to me, recognising me as the but of her jokes as “Mr Surry Hills”. When she asked about the others, I told her we were all related, and our other connection was South Lismore. “So you’re all in-bred”, she joked.
Growing up I was well aware of a bit of inbreeding in some of the smaller local communities. Indeed, my own grandmother’s parents were first cousins. Two families, lots of children. That was on the Far South Coast over 100 years ago, and I remember once asking someone about how common this was in some of the smaller rural communities, I was told, “You knew exactly what you were getting when you married your cousin!”.
Though Lismore has around 50,000 people in the main town area, it’s still a small town in many ways. I recognise people in the street all the time and have people say hello to me and smile with familiarity. The bus driver that takes me to work now recognises me and knows exactly where I’m getting off the bus. And I’ve had a couple of lengthy discussions with the Lismore Workers Club Courtesy Bus Driver who knew Nancy from her many visits there to play the pokies.
One of my favourite anecdotes which illustrates this is from a family member who was out on the town a number of years ago and was being chatted up by a younger man. Eventually, they established the young man had actually gone to school with her son. And when they chatted further, they also realised the same man had been in a relationship (and had children) with one of our cousins.
The level of familiarity of being back in Lismore is both endearing and disturbing.
