And then there is Blake and me. You could send us to an all-inclusive 5-star resort in Bora Bora; the kind of place you don't leave until they make you, and we would end up spending our days exploring the rest of the island. I don't mean to imply that this is a good thing, as I've heard kicking back, relaxing, and getting away from it all is quite nice. We would love to do it sometime, but every time we try we get antsy sitting around and end up setting out to see the sights. For us the thought of missing something while on vacation is horrifying. By the end of our usual trips, we are so exhausted that going back to work is a relaxing getaway.
By now, you're probably wondering where I'm headed with all this. The point is, when we first came here we were absolutely dying to see Australia. We were the furthest we had ever been from home and in a place that both of us had always dreamed of going. Were this a vacation, we would have barely landed before shooting out of Sydney like a cannon into the rest of the country. As it turned out, our first six weeks in Australia were spent inside a 10-mile radius tending solely to set-up duties. And then, at last, the time came for our first weekend trip. Like a dog bursting from a cage after a day of confinement, we exited the city, heading north up the magnificent NSW coast.
We left Friday afternoon for a one-night stopover in Port Macquarie, a beach town about 4 hours north of Sydney. Our trip started out with a long rush-hour ride through the suburbs, followed by a welcomed escape into the Kuringai National Park. From there began the entertaining spectacle of passing a neverending supply of ridiculously named towns, such as Mooney Mooney, Woy Woy, Tuggerawong, Kooranbong, Boolaroo, Quorrobolong, and Coolongolook to name a few. We reached Port Macquarie at about 9:30, dropped our stuff in the room, and asked the guy at the front desk
where we could find dinner. After a moment of thought, he informed us at, "tomorrow is Good Friday, most places will be closed early tonight and all day tomorrow. But, Domino's is still open if you're hungry." Worried that we might not find any food until Saturday, we rushed to the grocery store for a few essentials. Determined not to eat cold canned soup on our first night of vacation, we left the groceries in the car and set out to find a restaurant. We failed in that endeavor, but did find a nice Irish Bar that didn't mind us eating Dominos while enjoying one of their outdoor tables and tasty beverages. While not necessarily the ideal dinner, good atmosphere and cheap pizza suited us just fine.
We were not too impressed with Port Macquarie at that point, although this was partly due to the fact that everything was shutdown for Good Friday, a practice
common in Australia. Nevertheless, we decided to explore a bit more in the morning before getting back on the road. Venturing into an area we had not seen the night before, we discovered that the heart of Port Macquarie was by the water, and it was in fact a very likeable town. By far, the highlight of Port Macquarie was an amazing bush walk along the coast leading to a picturesque blue and white hilltop lighthouse that looked as though it had been transported from one of the Greek Islands. After a great morning walk, we were back on the road headed for our next stop in Coffs Harbour, which lies about two hours to the north. About halfway there, in the middle of nowhere, we were derailed by Fredo's Famous Pies, a legendary roadside eatery known for its unimaginable variety of meat and veggie pies. Previously unaware of its existence, a large crowd alerted us to the fact that this place was not to be missed. After much deliberation about whether the Crocodile or Kangaroo pie would be the tastiest, I went with the Marsupial. Finding a coveted outdoor
seat, we happily tore into our Fredo's bag. My pie had a giant "R" on it, so it was easy to identify. Like a kid with an ice cream cone I quickly took my first bite, and then like a kid with Brussel Sprouts, I reluctantly took a second bite. With a consistency that rivals even the thickest gravy, the Kangaroo Pie was less than delicious. Nevertheless, Fredo's was an experience, and the next time we pass it we will surely stop again. I will just be sure to order the Cheesy Potato Pie next time.Upon arrival at Coffs Harbour we wasted no time making our way to the coast and the well known jetties. Several ocean jetties extend out from the beaches and the heads creating a large protected harbour for boats and recreation. These jetties are absolutely massive. They are constructed with thousands upon thousands of concrete blocks the size of cars. It is seriously impressive, and I don't think even a Category 5 hurricane could phase them. The long walk to the end of the jetties was well worth the views of unspoiled beaches and coastland.
After seeing the panoramic views of what nature had so finely crafted, we were off to see one of mankinds greatest accomplishments....The Big Banana. Weighing in at 1,500 pounds this banana shaped building is perched alongside the Pacific Highway and used for tourist bait. Totally worked on us. Although created by an American in 1964, the Australians have embraced this idea and, well, taken it way too far (although I'm very glad they have). Scattered along roads throughout the entire country, one can find hundreds of "Big" objects, including The Big Beer Can, The Big Playable Guitar, The Big Kangaroo, and my favorite The Big Poo. I'm not joking about the last one. I wish I were, but I'm not. So if you ever find yourself driving through the endless nowhere that is most of Australia, you can at least be comforted to know that somewhere around the next corner is a ginormous object waiting for your arrival.
Another thing you can also look forward to while driving through Australia are the "Driver Reviver" stations that give away free coffee and an Arnott's Biscuit (what we call a cookie. Mmmmm....cookies). Who cares if it makes diner coffee seem gourmet; at a price of $0, you won't find me complaining. The driver reviver stands were everywhere on our road trip, and there are apparently up to 220 of them throughout the country. The road signs reading, "Stop. Revive. Survive" are permanent, but unfortunately, as we later learned, the service only operates during holiday weekends. Operating on volunteer labor and donated supplies, Driver Revivers strive to reduce fatigue related crashes during peak travel periods, while offering a great way to take a break on a long drive.
Having made enough stops for one day, we eventually made our way to our final destination, Yamba (pronounced Yam-buh, not Yom-buh as we mistakenly called it on numerous occasions). Don't worry if you've never heard of it, most of Australians haven't either. It's a small coastal town about a nine hour drive north of Sydney. In a country with so many places to see, you might be asking yourself how, or more appropriately why we selected such an obscure place as our first destination outside the big city. I would love to tell you that it was our uncanny ability to find the perfect vacation spot, but in reality, it was a holiday weekend and everywhere else we looked was totally booked. So, as a last resort, we ended up in Yamba at the Pacific Hotel.
Parking in front of our hotel, I couldn't help but feel that we may have been duped by some well-angled photography and clever marketing. The self-proclaimed "best hotel view in Australia" couldn't possibly lie behind the doors of this modest looking building, could it. It was at this moment I remembered my comments to Blake a couple weeks earlier,"This hotel looks great, and look how cheap it is!" Suddenly worried by the old saying that you get what you pay for, I crossed my fingers and walked on in. Opening the door, it was evident that this was an old school beach hotel. There was nobody in the reception room, and I'm fairly sure that there never is. Were I not in Australia, this would have been concerning; however, it is very common here for older hotels to operate in such a manner. The primary focus of these establishments is the restaurant/bar on the first floor with the upper-floor accomodation being merely a bonus. Looking for assistance, we made our way into the bar. At first glance, it seemed very ordinary with its long wooden bar and dark ornate carpet, a staple of Aussie pubs; however, as we turned to the left, we immediately realized that the "best hotel view in Australia" description was, if anything, an understatment. The bar area opened up into a long open room spanning the entire length of the building, and the east wall, consisting of nearly all glass, yielded incredible elevated views of the ocean and coastline. We couldn't have been happier.
Quickly settling into our room, we left to explore the streets of Yamba. Walking down the huge hill from our hotel to the heart of town, we found a low key, charming town with several restaurants and shops. After a quick look around followed by a walk on the beach, it was time to clean up for dinner. Eager to take advantage of our hotel, we had dinner downstairs. The atmosphere was very casual, but the menu and the food were great. As the crowd continued to strengthen in numbers, it didn't take long to realize that this was the place to be in Yamba. We decided that we would head into town for a bit, and then finish the night back at our hotel. We found a great place to hang out in town, and had even more fun after returning to our place. The crowd was a happy, lively bunch, much like you would expect to find in a pub overlooking the sea on a holiday weekend. We met several Aussies, listened to good live music, and I even danced a bit. Voluntarily, I might add. For those of you who know me, that probably comes as shocking news. On my list of things I enjoy, dancing falls about three spots below stubbing my toe. However, had you seen how terrible the average dancer was, you would understand my willingness to jump on in. For the first time ever, I had found a place where a dancing spectator might actually look my way and say, "that guy's got moves."
The next day we set out for the small nearby village of Illuka, and it was during this time that we finally had the most anticipated Australian experience to date. We had almost reached Illuka, when I stomped and the brakes, simultaneously yelling, "Blake. Look!" She quickly glanced around, but saw nothing as we had sped on by. "Kangaroos!!!" I said, while performing the worlds fastest U-turn (illegal in Australia). It was our first Roo sighting in the wild, although I use the term "wild" loosely as they were grazing in someone's yard along the road. As it was our first encounter with an unfamiliar animal, and due to the surprisingly creepy
appearance of these animals, we decided it best to take several photos from the car. After realizing that the roos were too busy eating grass, an activity that seemingly accounts for about 90% of their time, Blake got out for a closer look. Much to our excitement, we got to see them in action as the closest animal hopped away to a safer distance. Giddy from the experience, we jumped back in the car and continued on our way.We spent the next two days in and around Yamba hiking through unspoiled coastline and beaches, and our nights basically followed the same path as the first one. Looking back, I can say that our experience in Yamba was the best of both worlds. On one hand we had the quiet town, beaches and nature walks to enjoy, and on the other, we had a hotel that offered as much activity and nightlife as we could want. If we tired early, as we did the second night, our room was at the far end of the hotel, removed from the loud voices, live music, and middle-aged bald men doing the robot. Our first weekend destination had been decided by chance, and it couldn't have turned out better. After six weeks of the big city life, the town of Yamba was exactly what we needed.
