In a word, the surf trip was: Awesome. I had a great time, met some great people, surfed some great waves and visited some great parts of Australia.
There were 30 or so surfers-to-be, two instructors, and a cameraman (they sell DVDs of the trip for AUS$50 – I wasn’t really in it, so I didn’t buy it). I was one of two Americans – the other a 28 year old vagabond originally from Chicago. He’s been around, had just spent two years in Japan, some time in South America, etc. We wound up sharing a two-man tent. Politically, we disagreed pretty completely, but we stuck to friendly topics and got along great. He really reminded of a cool version of Kyle Roff, my lame-o frosh roomie. He’s the guy with the goatee in picture “CIMG0259.”
Other than the two Americans, there were a few Canadians and a whole host UKers, with a Swede, Hollander (I hung out with those last two the most), and Korean. The UKers were mostly English, with a Scot and Irishman thrown in for good measure. Of course, the ensuing friendly rivalry was worth keeping an ear open – “that third burrito was tastier than the second – you up for fourth, Scot?” “Ay, if you are.”
For some reason, the Redcoats really liked my accent. They said it was unlike typical US-New York in its slowness, almost like a drawl. They immediate likeness was Tom Hanks in Forrest Gump. Of course, this was probably all during the daily, 10 minute “jerk the American’s chain” session. Still, we swapped – I’d say “Jenny got really sick” or “I just had to run” if they’d say “not bloody likely, you silly Yank.” The surf: I was standing up by second day, and really enjoyed myself the whole week. I know I’m not the next Laird Hamilton, but you sure do feel like Greg Noll, riding those giant two footers. It’s cliché, but true – “catch a wave and you’re sitting on top of the world.” I feel like I can’t explain in to non-surfers (yeah, I said it). If you ever get the chance, try it out. It’s almost better than kissing girls.
The locations: very out of the way, very beautiful. I hope I was able to capture some of that beauty with the ‘ole digital, but I only pulled it out when I was certain that there wasn’t any sand or salt or water to ruin it. I wasn’t about to ruin my camera my first trip out. Still, I took 153 pictures (I’ve whittled them down to the 97 most essential), which may convey the message I’m trying to send. None are of my surfing (risk > benefit), but all are fully downloadable, printable, and framable via any self-service kiosk. May I suggest that DSCN3833 would look wonderful on any wall?
A few explanations:
DSCN3809 – The Arts Factory is the hostel we stayed at Friday to Saturday. It was PDC; clean buy hippy
DSCN3810 – Pretty typical of most Oz-cars. In America, we all have SUVs but use them for freeway driving. In Oz, the only people that have off-road vehicles are the people that use them for off-roading. And they don’t mess around with Chevy Suburbans or H2s. They use Land Rovers, Land Cruisers, or older Jeeps.
DSCN3836 – John Howard is the current Australian PM. Don’t my forearms look incredibly muscular in that picture?
DSCN3848 – Outside the tourist pub in Byron Bay, around 10PM. That’s Johann, my Swedish bud. He’s 30, who had started that evening by downing his flask of Swedish brandy around. As you can see in the photograph, I am in complete control of my facilities and rather enjoying watching this guy try to do, well, anything.
Also – There may be a picture or two in which you may see me holding a bottle of good, old fashioned Australian Root Beer. Oz is a good place to drink Root Beer – there is an easy-going, laid-back, drink as much or as little as you like attitude that is very understanding of new Root Beer drinkers like myself. I assure you, there is nothing; I repeat nothing to worry about. I am fully aware of my inability to out consume any European or Australian (they are pros with the stuff) and the futility of any such efforts. No, I am content to sit and merely enjoy the warm feelings that accompany a belly full of the fizzy from a small number of Root Beers whilst retaining my lucidity.
Besides all that, the trip itself was super-cool. We camped out in true Surfer-style, eating cheap but energizing foods. For brekky, they mixed up this custom dish oatmeal, raisins, nuts, and corn flakes. With a dab of honey and some milk, it was tasty and energizing. The meals were all like that, charming, filling, yet true to wave-rider’s budget. Unbelievable. In a simile, it was cooler than two new Batman comics. Which is saying something.
Josh
http://www.fento.ath.cx/photos/2005/1_winter/surfaris_7_day_surf_camp/surfaris_josh/index.html
(be patient – the pictures are fairly large and we’ve reserved a relatively small piece of the pipe for them)
PS- My Address: Josh Fenton, Room 6 / 321 Parkway Ave / Hamilton, NSW 2303 / Australia. I presume it IS named after Alexander H, which is ironic because he was such a dweeb.
PPS- Coming Soon: pictures of Australian money, my living arrangements, and the one picture I took in the airport (customs restrictions sacred the dickens out of me).