On to Byron

I rose early from my closet like room in Brisbane and after a refreshing morning shower walked back down to the transit station to catch the bus to Byron Bay. It was a very nice Greyhound coach, and I had two seats to myself. As it turns out it was hardly enough because the odd schizophrenic woman who sat across the aisle insisted on listening to her "music" without earphones. Why this affection for American hip-hop? It makes me feel as if I am in a strip club, but of course without the distraction of nudity. The bus took a torturous route through the Gold Coast, a strange place of widely spaced high rise apartment buildings that is oddly devoid of people. You would think with such a sea of humanity stacked atop each other that the streets would be a sea of humanity, but it was like a movie set from one of those "end of the world" pictures where the streets are deserted. I imagine the surfing is excellent, but I was eager to get beyond the concrete. Once we crossed the border into New South Wales the countryside began, with lush forested hillsides and open pastures with cattle grazing. It was very beautiful. Then we reached Byron Bay where I waited in the city center for a shuttle to take me to the packpacker hostel where I am currently ensconced. This is a very nice place, with lots of room and what appears to be a laid back clientle. I have just settled in, but will take a walk, or bicycle ride, back into the town to look for some Indian food, some cold Coopers, and people watch a bit.