A “Boomer” and Tripping My Brains Out! My Solo Adventure at 63 Down Under…On a Budget.

Byron Bay and the Hinterland, Part 2:  Finding a Sanctuary at Sanctuary in The Pocket (WWoofing?!)

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Entering The Sanctuary in the Pocket retreat.

What a surprise to find out that my next exploit in the Byron Bay Hinterland was also in The Pocket, literally just up the road from my housesitting hosts, and since Lani knew the address, she offered to drive me there.  As we pulled off the dirt road and entered through the gates of the Sanctuary, we both let out a slight gasp. A little disoriented, I could have sworn we had been magically transported to some tranquil, exotic, Balinese retreat. My blood pressure must have immediately dropped because my physical body registered: peace.

If I had any quandaries about my new situation and who I’d be working for, they were quickly dispelled when I met Susie, one of the owners. Susie is dazzling with bright blue eyes that smile and an infectious, ready laugh that is instantly both welcoming and endearing. Her husband Jonathan was away in Sydney where he works four days a week, and I wouldn’t meet him until later.

My quarters would be the cabin, a charming, little house with all the modern conveniences (including a big screen TV with Net Flicks) that they often rent. My initial impression was akin to being eleven again and taking in with delight new and unfamiliar surroundings and imagining all the exciting  adventures in store–even more pythons, spiders, and snakes.

This stay at the Sanctuary came about, once again, through the great networking of my friend Gayl. Several years ago, Gayl spent three months living in NYC, and while there she became involved with an organization called Australian Women Living in NY. Gayl put me in touch with BJ, who is married to an American and currently lives in Brooklyn.  While in Brooklyn celebrating a family birthday in November, I met BJ, and she recommended a work exchange stay with her friends Jonathan and Susie. She made the introduction through email and sent them a copy of my profile.

Jonathan and Susie are transplants from Sydney where they ran a much smaller retreat. Wanting to locate closer to relatives, they spent ten years looking to find the perfect property. It took a year of renovating the three rental units and their home, in addition to creating the desired gardens. During this time they hired wwoofers , who often stayed for up to three months, for landscape work and small building projects.

WWoofing (Willing Workers on Organic Farms) is a loose network of national organizations that facilitate placement of volunteers, who work four to six hours a day on a host’s farm in exchange for meals and accommodation. Hosts do the hiring, and wwoofers often stay anywhere from a few days to three or more months. People (typically young) from all over the world who want to experience a place and maybe learn a new skill and save money, leave the tourist trail behind and live with the locals.

Jonathan and Susie emailed to say that as long as I brought a positive attitude,  I could wwoof as long as I wanted, so prior to my arriving, I agreed to a two week stay.  But after only two days with Susie’s great company (Jon was in Sydney) and generous, delicious cooking, I quickly asked to stay for three weeks!

My work schedule consisted of six hour days Monday through Friday with the remainder of the day free and weekends off. Work days started with breakfast with Susie around 7:30, work commenced at 8:00, followed by a mid morning break, a lunch break, and finishing  at 3:00. Most of my time was spent working on the five acres of botanical gardens weeding, pruning, transplanting, and hauling palm fronds to the burn pile. To break things up, I also did interior painting, pool cleaning, mowing with Jonathan’s big riding lawn mower :), and helping Susie with cleaning the guest cottages. (And to think I was paying big bucks back home lifting weights and doing squats with a trainer.)

I worked hard, but they both work a lot harder! Susie’s days never end. After hours of cleaning, doing laundry, preparing me a nice lunch, doing more laundry, she’d have a home cooked dinner ready for us at seven. This was when we could relax and talk about the world and life in general.  I think she enjoyed having me, a contemporary, for company.

Jonathan and Susie have hosted may young wwoofers from around the world, most of them of great people, but life would not be complete with out a few intermittent bouts of drama, most often the broken heart kind. One Canadian young woman called Susie and Jonathan in the middle of the night in tears because she was not only heart sick missing her new German boyfriend who had returned home, but also because she was living in squalid conditions at a new host farm. They promptly went up north to pick her up.

They are both still in touch with several young people who worked for them, and while I was there, Susie played matchmaker and fixed up a Brazilian woman now living in Sydney with a guest also from Brazil who was relocating there.  Many a Friday night wwoofers would find themselves treated to pizza and music in town with Susie and Jon.  Anyone would be extremely lucky to find themselves wwoofing at Sanctuary in the Pocket. And then there is the beauty of the place and the peace and quiet.

Each morning donned with rubber boots, gardening gloves, and hat, I grabbed my wheelbarrow and entered a sub tropical world of exotic plants and manicured gardens surrounded in the distance by lush pastures and the rolling hills of the hinterland. But most of all, I relished the silence--intruded on only by the lilting trills and warbles of the Australian butcherbird, the occasional raucous, staccato laugh of the kookaburra, and depending on where the neighboring farmer was grazing his herd, the occasional, lowly baritone moo of a cow.

There is something so satisfying about doing physical work, particularly working the land.  I’m the kind of person who tends to be in my head a majority of the time.  Having worked as a high school English teacher for many years, papers to correct and constant planning always came home with me.  I savored summer vacation and the meditative time working in my gardens. I am reminded of Antaeus, the giant wrestler in Greek mythology, who tapped his power from the earth and was invincible as long as he kept his feet firmly planted on the ground. Heracles defeated him by locking him in a bear hug and lifting both feet off the ground, crushing him. Feeling a little crushed and dinged up myself after months of traveling and city life, I felt restored (and slept like a rock at night).  Jonathan (as genial as his wife), an accomplished gardener, with a keen eye for landscape design, was happy with my work and glad that I knew what I was doing.

Two weeks into my stay, I was joined by Victor and Cleaya, a young French couple from Lyon.  On vacation for three months in Australia, they came to wwoof for four days having worked on a bamboo farm nearby the previous four days. A little older and more mature, they were both looking to make career changes, and since the job market is tough in France right now, are even considering making a move to Australia. Like- minded travelers, they wanted to experience all aspects of life in a different part of the world.

Looking back, it is beautiful how we all touched each other in some way having come together from different countries, backgrounds, and age groups, living and working in tandem for a few short days and doing simple, physical but satisfying work bringing us closer to nature  without modern distractions.  I am forever thankful to Susie and Jonathan and many of their friends who welcomed me and shared little slices of their lives.

As life in The Pocket was quickly coming to an end, it was time to figure out where I was off to next.  At this point, I only knew my next stop was south to Melbourne, and I had already booked a flight from Darwin in the Northern Territories to Kununurra in  Western Australia on May 31st where I would be spending the month of June. But what was I going to do with the five weeks in between?  This kind of thing really throws me as I can become overwhelmed easily when faced with making concrete plans, arranging plane reservations, and figuring out accommodations. And doing all this online, navigating web sites, juggling credit cards and bank accounts–and keeping it all straight. But this is about growth, right?! And panic is a natural part of the process of growth.

I had to move forward. I couldn’t stay stuck.  So I went back and re-read  Steven Pressfield’s powerful little book, Do the Work, and called on stubbornnes and blind faith, a couple of champions on my side, and “slayed that dragon resistance.”  The end result….pretty amazing…. the adventure continues.

 

A “Boomer” and Tripping My Brains Out!

Bryon Bay and Country Life in the Hinterlands–Part 1

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The beach at Byron Bay. Clean and still undeveloped!

If you measure distance in time, you must be either in the state of Maine or the huge country of Australia.

For some reason, I was thinking that Byron Bay was only a couple of hours north of Sydney… wrong!  It’s about ten hours by car and twelve to thirteen hours by bus or train.  Flying is the best option, but for some reason I found myself, a lone senior, on a Greyhound stuffed to the gills with fresh-faced millennials leaving Sydney at 7:00pm and arriving in Byron Bay at 8:00am the following morning.  Trying to be an optimist, I figured I wouldn’t have to find accommodations for the night.  I could sleep on the bus.  In a stiff, narrow, barely reclining seat….pillowless.  End result…snoozeless! (Yes, I made up these words)

Arriving thirteen hours later, I  wanted to kiss the ground as I stepped off the bus weary and bleary-eyed. But this is a comfortable and soft place to fall.

Byron Bay has a “turn on, tune in, drop out” hippie past, but it still has that “be cool”, laid back vibe, and keeping with the tenor of the times, it is also infused with a healthy dose of New Age. Downing two cups of coffee in quick succession at the Byron Cafe, my eyes scanned a heavily papered wall of posters advertising an array of festivals (Moonlight Mystic, Starlight, Spirit, Writers, Blues) and every imaginable service or class for the mind, body, and soul.

Life style is important to Australians, and this region with its beautiful beaches, warm weather, lush country side, and long growing season is drawing more and more people from the big cities who want to either buy vacation homes or move here permanently.  A  fun and relaxing place to be on my own, I booked an airbnb private room within walking distance to town and the beach for three days until my new hosts were ready for me.

I was planning to be just twenty minutes north of Byron Bay in the hinterlands, known as the Northern Rivers Region, for a month, first house sitting for two weeks and then doing a work exchange for room and board.  Experiencing rural life is another goal of my adventure.

Once again, thanks to the great networking of my friend and travel mentor, Gayl, I was introduced to her young friend Katrina, originally from this region and now a busy lawyer who splits her time between working in Melbourne and coming here on the weekends (did I mention life style?).  Katrina put me in touch with childhood friends who have also moved back to the area from Melbourne, and they offered me a house sitting position while they’d be away on vacation.

This really is God’s country. Still very rural, the rolling hills and lush green landscape is dotted with farms and open pastures. Practically anything can be grown here due to the subtropical climate and rich volcanic soil. Although beef is still a major producer, fresh, local, organic food sourced from local artisan producers have joined the ranks with crops like avocados, macadamia nuts, bamboo, and coffee.  Farmers’ Markets laden with fabulous produce can be found almost any day of the week.

My host family lives in a little village called The Pocket, so named because it is surrounded by foothills. The closest town is Billinudgel a short drive away and home to the historic Billinudgel Hotel, which has been open since 1908. Some other towns close by and part of this region are Mullumbimby (Mullum), New Brighton (Newie), and Brunswick Heads (Bruni). Australians love to shorten words.

 

Lani and Paul’s lovely home is a restored school house with soaring cathedral ceilings and an open floor plan.  The property also boasts a swimming pool, two small cottages, and three acres of land. Lani, the consummate gardener, has created a landscape of exotic flowers, fruits, and vegetables. My duties for the next two weeks were to water the gardens and plants, vacuum the ever-present cob webs, and haul away the palm fronds (they collect water and breed insects) to the burn pile (everyone here has a burn pile). I was scared out of my wits a few times hearing the sudden BANG of a large palm frond hitting the roof.

Since this is the country where all things poisonous dwell, she also educated me about red back spiders, a host of snakes, and even pythons. Lani related a story –this is firsthand not hearsay–about a young mother who suddenly awakened in the night, went to check on her new infant, only to find a huge python coiled around the crib!

I later found out that there was a python living on Lani and Paul’s property. I never saw it, but on a return visit after their vacation, they told me they found the skin it had shed on the front porch hammock.

I did have a minor spider encounter. One morning I woke up to find a HUGE spider (Huntsman?) on the wall just above the bathroom door.  Too freaked out to kill it AND not knowing how to take it alive, I left it there for two and a half hours, skulking back every few minutes to check to see if it had moved.  Finally, realizing I couldn’t leave it there only to find it later (or not) in some other part of the house, I took out the vacuum cleaner and …

This is just life in the hinterland (rats too!), and I did become acclimated to my new surroundings and found lots of time to paint and write.  But I would still find myself at dusk (when snakes are apt to appear) skittering from building to building like some terrified bug avoiding its prey, trying to make it to safety. (I’m kidding…bit just a little.)

I might have felt a little isolated but for the incredible hospitality of friendly Australians.  Katrina, home for the weekend, took me to lunch and a drive around the area. This resulted in another invitation from Katrina and her parents to a family dinner on Good Friday of Easter Weekend. My special treat was the traditional dessert, Pavlova, consisting of meringue, fresh fruit, and whipped cream.   And yet again, an outing with Katrina’s dad to the Tweed Regional Gallery, and Margaret Olley Art Center, lunch, and a drive to the lovely town of Bangalow, known for some of the region’s best street architecture.

Paul’s mother, Jeanette and a friend stopped by for the night to attend the Blues Festival. (The Byron Bay Blues Festival this year featured 82 bands, a total of 633 artists and their touring crews, and recorded over 100,000 attendees over the Easter weekend. Brother Jake’s band, Kaleo also headlined.) Jeanette raised four boys, and at the age of 55 decided to become a nomad of the sea. For the past fifteen years, she has been living on her boat “Ariel,” a Down Easter, 38 foot sloop and migrating up and down the Queensland coast. Simply amazing. Simply the best.

Pretty idyllic all around, but as we all know too well, “Into each life some rain must fall.”  Literally, this is the rain forest. It rains.  Metaphorically, this is life.  Shit happens.  The day after Paul and Lani left for vacation, I drove Paul’s car to a busy gas station and … backed into the car behind me.  Not just any dumpy, beater car, it had to some bloke’s just restored 1971 Camaro.  He was not happy.  I felt really stupid, but I had to learn (once more) to forgive myself. We all do stupid things. It’s part of the human condition.

Several hundreds of dollars and a bartered painting later(I decided to be gracious about it), I tried to figure out what I was supposed to learn from this.  The best I can figure is this: first, if you are offered the use of a car, be sure to check that your name has been added to the insurance policy; second, I realized that I can be rather cheap with myself in an effort to save money, but I control nothing! Life deals you a hand and you have to play it, or in this case pay it.

Needless to say I was a little skittish about driving again (but I did…staying left).

 

Part 2: Finding a Sanctuary at Sanctuary in the Pocket–stay tuned 🙂