I spend the first few hours of the morning watching the bush turkeys and a goana walk around the outdoor restaurant seating at the Arts Factory. The bush turkeys are, as you would expect of a turkey, quite bottom heavy, but can surprisingly fly, or they must at least be able to climb, because I keep seeing them mysteriously perched up tall trees.
I have arranged to meet Janaya, the former Aussie bar lady at my local in Reading, and she arrives in Byron just before lunchtime, and takes me to the market, which is held in a field not far from the hostel. It's a little like the Nimbin Mardi Gras, in that there's a lot of hemp produce and stalls selling falafels, one of which constitutes my breakfast.
It is a bank holiday in Oz this weekend, and Janaya is camping with her quasi-sister in-law's family at Broken Heads campsite just south of Byron. Janaya's and her boyfriend Rohan left England to go travelling for a few months before returning to Australia. Or at least that is what they had planned. In fact they only arrived back in Oz a couple of months ago, about a year after they had left the UK, having been to France, Italy and, less congruously, Madagascar, where they got robbed.
Rohan, who works as a plumber at mine sites helping to set up the miner's 'dongas', is not due to arrive at the campsite until the evening, but his sister Anita and brother in law Dave, plus other extended members of their family, show me some typical Aussie hospitality and make me feel immediately welcome. There is part of me that will always be a reserved Englishman, cautious whenever I meet new people, but I warm particularly to Dave, Rohan's brother-in-law, when he slaps a freshly barbecued steak the size of head on a plate in front of me. As I contemplate the challenge in front of me, Dave asks me if anything is wrong. I tell him I haven't eaten this much meat over the course of the past six months, and cut it in half and pass the other part to Janaya, who instantly decides to end the diet she's been on.
The campsite is filled to the brim and quite a few of the children running about are connected to the family, though I have trouble identifying who belongs to who. There is also a man here who is camping alone and has joined our group. He tells everyone he has been coming to the campsite for this weekend for the past few years. It appears that half the people in the campsite are here after re-booking their place at this time last year.
Curly, as he introduces himself, is a very interesting person to listen to for a half hour or so, but after this time he has told us his life story and has nothing else to say and isn't much of a listener either. He is very proud of his home, of which he shows us a picture from his wallet. It is a houseboat which he has built on a lake that he also created himself, having been refused local government permission to build a house on his land. I have to admit that I admired this novel and creative approach to planning permission. He proudly proclaims that he is a rebel, always fighting the system. I could tell that he was without him needing to say this, as he is dressed in all the hippy garb, the uniform of the rebel in these parts.
Rohan appears in the evening. I hadn't immediately recognised him as he hadn't shaved since before he left England more than a year previously. His hair is a now sunkissed blond, but his beard, which reaches down to the bottom of his chest, is a wispy rich ginger hue and the moustache swings out into a bushy curl. Seeing as he works at the mines, I keep expecting to see him do a knee slapping, arm swinging jig shouting out 'It's GOLD, yee-haw I struck Gaawwlld!, I'm RICH I tell ya, RICH!!'
With the sun well set, the kids start nagging Rohan to help them light a fire on the beach, Dave not being as good at lighting fires as he is at barbecues. Curly talks a good fire, but seems to be much better at designing them than actually building them, unless they are ones you can roll between your fingers. He confesses that he hadn't actually built his houseboat either, but it is his design he says.
Later, with the kids having been sent to bed, the men in the group all gather around the campfire finishing off any leftover wine. One of the guys, Rob, used to be in the police but is now a union official. It seems Oz union officials don't necessarily share the politics of their UK counterparts, as he spends some time lamenting what the Labour Prime Minister Kevin Rudd's government has done to the national balance sheet.
Meanwhile, Janaya and Rohan have landed themselves one of the campsites cabins after one of the kids got ill leading to one of the families going home. As it happens, with the campsite over flowing, two cars have parked in the space Rohan had reserved anyway. Feeling a bit of a sore thumb, I offer to sleep in the back of Rohan's van, but they insist I take advantage of one of the cabins beds.
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