It’s an interesting travel tactic to land at one airport (Brussels) and immediately get on a bus to another airport (Amsterdam). But that’s where I was meeting up with Andrew so that’s what happened.
I wasn’t anticipating it being a massive transit hub and shopping facility. There was a brief game of messaging on spotty WiFi mixed with hide and seek. We reunited underneath the orange stock car and all was well.
We quickly found out how easy public transportation was in Amsterdam. We rode the train one stop before we were at Centraal Station. From there we caught a short, free ferry across the river to Noord where we were staying.
We settled in and took it easy for a bit since we were both shrugging off long journeys. It was around 4pm when we hopped back on the ferry and started our exploration of the city center.
A bike shop owner advised us which direction to walk to see the pretty parts of Amsterdam (avoiding the touristy spots), and also threw in a coffee shop recommendation.
Soon, we learned that most joints are actually spliffs aka gross. Lesson #1.
Andrew and I continued our stroll through the western part of the city. It was a sunny day and as with most sunny days, the feeling was good. Based on a very brief exposure to the city, I was getting that familiar feeling — I could see myself living here. Beautiful old buildings lining picturesque canals. Water and greenery. People happily walking their dogs and riding past on bikes. These are no doubt attributes I value in a place to live. But I’ve felt that about several places on this journey. I wonder if that’s my brain sending signals it’s ready to settle back down or just the excitement of a new location. Either way, I could recognize a community fixed on a foundation of openness and nature. Trust me, this was before any herbal effects kicked in.
Anyhow, we found a street where people were eating outside and we decided to grab a bite. FYI – an Amsterdam pancake is about the size of a medium pizza. Intense.
Eventually our wandering led us into the tourist section, which was interesting in its own right. We located another coffee shop where we split a space cake. Trying to be cautious. Lesson #2: they are quite tasty. And a whole one will be ok for one person.
We unintentionally stumbled upon the Red Light District. It was still turning on but what we did see wasn’t what I envisioned it to be. There was a lot more variety in age and size of the women in the windows. Many of them were yawning or just looking at their phones. It was uncomfortable how they were objects behind glass for everyone to stare at. Moreover, it was sad how bored they were with it all. Later on, there were women more active in wooing Johns off the street. I’m not even sure if I should call guys that. I don’t know what the “menu” of services offered is or anything.
There were official porno shows as well. I think they were more or less the same as a Thailand ping pong show. You watch the novelty skills and then live sex for €50 or something. We passed on that, but we did take a few puffs of a pure j and go into a €2 peep show. It was an octagon of small rooms where everyone watched a striptease. Not all that interesting.
It was still light out at 10pm which was really throwing off the circadian rhythm. We snaked our way around several more streets before heading back to the ferry. We got some late night snacks and shared some giggles before bed.
The next morning was a bit of a slow start after shedding some jet lag.
There was a public transportation strike which meant none of the ferries were running. And there was no pedestrian bridge across. We walked farther into north Amsterdam to rent bikes. It was a very industrial warehouse district that was being reclaimed by artists, .
It was necessary to cycle at some point while here because the city was made for it. There’s around 1.1 million people in the metropolitan area and over 800,000 bikes. Other people have told me it’s a 3:1 ratio of bikes to people. We were also warned that cyclists were more dangerous than cars. Here’s some other fun facts about bikes in Amsterdam.
Riding amongst people that do it everyday was a reminder of what poor shape I’m in. We had to go through a long tunnel to get to the city and there were elderly women easily cruising past me without having to stand up. It was fun to build up silly speed on the downhill part though.
We made our way to a brewery at one of the 8 remaining windmills in Amsterdam. Delicious bevs. Then we walked around a park that was also a zoo…at least what we were able to access freely. I think we kind of just rode around directionless for a bit. We wound up at a restaurant for what was essentially a date.
Dinner. More riding. Back through the tunnel.
We returned our bikes at 10pm as the sun was beginning to set. So gnarly.
In the morning, we joined our hostels free walking tour. It gave us some valuable information on the architecture, the canals and a few key landmarks. I love the XXX in the crest of the city. You can find them almost everywhere if you’re looking. Contrary to the belief that it stands for the x-rated fun of the Red Light District, we were told the symbols stood for Old Amsterdam’s 3 biggest dangers: fires, floods, and The Plague. This could also just be an unconfirmed theory.
We met V, a French girl on holiday, who we went to hang out with in a park. The 3 of us walked through the Albert Cuyp Market where we tried a stroopwafel, a Dutch staple. Straight up yum.
Later that evening, Andrew and I met up with Coen, who I traveled with for a bit way back in New Zealand. We had a handful of local brews at a beer bar in a part of town devoid of other tourists. It was sweet to catch up and get some helpful tips from a native. Closed that place down too.
The following day, me and Andrew took the metro for fun. Super clean and efficient system. We walked around a floating flower market that was a bit different than anticipated. We also went to a museum with some photography exhibits. We rounded out the day by going to the Heineken Experience. It was a brewery tour on steroids, detailing the company’s history while walking through some of the old brew facility but with 2 or 3 floors of crazy digital, interactive activities. At the end we got two small Heinekens, which were Heinekens.
We toured the canals and cozy neighborhood streets a bit more before returning to the hostel to eat dinner. We met V at the bar for a few beers and that was pretty much that on Amsterdam.
Andrew and I caught an early morning bus to Brussels to meet up with some college friends to watch Jud’s band play at a music festival.
I arrived in Lembar port at 6pm and the sun was beginning to set. Lombok seemed like a beautiful place. Somehow it had a more organized vibe than Bali but was still quite similar.
I arranged for a motorbike ride from the harbor to my accommodation in Mataram city. I wasn’t stoked to be on the back of a motorbike with my massive pack for almost an hour but it was the quickest and cheapest way.
I underestimated how strong your lower back muscles need to be to ride comfortably while supporting that much weight. It was a struggle. I kept trying to focus on the new scenery.
There were traditional streets with lanes, a more traditional traffic pattern, and many mosques lining the roads. Lombok was majority Muslim, in line with the rest of Indonesia. A few minutes into the ride, I heard parts of the evening prayer amplified through speakers as we passed by.
The trip to the hostel took longer than an hour because the guy didn’t know where he was going even though I was showing him directions. At long last, we pulled through an intersection with a McDonald’s on one side and a Pizza Hut on the other and parked at our destination.
Just by walking up to the reception desk, I astounded the staff there. The check-in counter was in the corner of an empty cafe so the employees weren’t doing anything. I mentioned that I had a reservation and threw the two guys for a loop. They had to call someone to ask how to process everything. This was a very curious first impression.
After being ushered back to my room, I had the sneaking suspicion that I was the only guest at the hostel. This was very quickly confirmed when they had to go get keys to unlock the door to the bathroom. So strange. Sure, it was low season, but based on the reviews for the place, I expected at least a few other travelers. The lack of patrons proved unfortunate because I was intending to meet people and create a group to do day trips. That was a little tough without other people.
While walking around Mataram, I got the feeling that I was the only tourist in the entire city. It seemed like every pair of eyes followed me wherever I went. I never came across another white person the whole time I was there.
One of the sights nearby was the Islamic Center NTB. It was a large mosque with beautiful colors and intricate symmetry in its design. There were certain parts in disrepair from the earthquake that occurred in 2018. I went to have a look around and admire the architecture. Clue #10 that I didn’t belong: I was stopped by 3 different groups who asked to take photos with me. As in, people wanted me — this random white dude — to be in a photo with them. I obliged. Now I’m the butt of a joke on a few teenagers IG accounts. Why not?
I had to wait out a short rain storm under the mosque’s sheltered paths before heading over to the fancy new shopping center that everybody was excited about. Once again, I was a walking mythological creature based on peoples’ reactions of me perusing the corridors of this mall.
When I returned back to my hostel, there was a live band playing to no one. It was a Friday night, so customary to have entertainment I guess. I had to walk through the empty cafe passed the band to get to my room. Awkward. I’ve been there, guys. Trust me. They played for another hour or two before calling it a night. The ghosts must’ve been happy.
The place gave me a peculiar feeling. Not because of the ghosts — that was a joke. I didn’t necessarily feel unwelcome, but I definitely felt like I was there at the wrong time. I decided not to linger and continue on with my travels the next day.
I took another hour long ride up to Bangsal harbor in the north part of the island. Since I was flying by the seat of my pants a little bit, I was again unprepared for bargaining and paid a bit too much for a boat over to Gili Air and an open ticket that would take me back to mainland Bali. I didn’t feel good about the situation immediately after handing over my money. This would play a significant role later on.
Similar to the Nusa islands I’d visited previously, the 3 Gili islands off the northwest coast of Lombok are a popular destination for most travelers that visit the area. Gili Air has a reputation for being a good spot to relax and unwind, Gili Trawagan is known for its party scene and Gili Meno is the quietest of the group (even though it’s geographically in the middle).
The islands are all small with little infrastructure, disregarding the damage the earthquake has also done to them. The only methods of transportation are bicycle and horse-drawn buggy. As an aside, I felt really bad for the horses because when they were inactive they would just stare at the ground and not move. I always thought they needed more water.
On Gili Air, I hopped off my boat and took a 10 minute walk to my next hostel. I was crossing my fingers there were more people there, even though I knew it would be a chill vibe.
Captain Coconuts was tucked away on a cozy street, slightly inland on the western part of the island. I was greeted by a lot of bamboo and thatched roofing. The staff was very friendly at check in and as I was taken back to my room, I didn’t see another person. There was no one in my dorm room yet again. It would be a solitary few days, I thought.
The bright side was the uniqueness of the accommodation. The room was under a roof but in the open air and the beds were suspended from the ceiling with mosquito nets for protection at night. The pool was in the middle of the property, surrounded by large, custom wooden lounge chairs and some pillows strewn about.
During my days, I did a decent amount of exploring the island. The path next to the beach was lined with bars that all had comfy seating nestled up to the water, perfect for eating dinner and watching the sunset. From what I could tell, that and swimming were the two main activities to occupy one’s time.
I caught two lovely sunsets while there and relaxed from my…already unstressful lifestyle as a vagabond.
Two days of being low key felt sufficient. It was time to move onto Gili T. I wasn’t in search of a party, but something a little more active would be alright.
I could feel the liveliness immediately when I arrived. It was mainly the familiar feeling of being badgered by vendors and kiosk agents trying to sell bracelets and excursions. Moving past the hectic zone, there were more boutiques, restaurants and accommodations on the main drag. Once I was farther from that street, I noticed more rundown sites and less action overall. Not a surprise.
I used the Bali Backpackers Facebook group to find the hostel I reserved. People said it was a social place that could throw down if needed. Seemed like a good hedge. I checked in and was introduced to the promoter, Missy, a chick around my age from California. Later, I found out how sweet her arrangement was. She’s “working” there for two months in exchange for room and board. Her responsibilities are really to just hang out with guests, organize snorkel or similar day trips and make sure everyone is having a good time. Aka she gets to make new friends and drink “on the job.” Epic.
She folded me into the hip posse of travelers that had been staying there for a bit — a Canadian, 4 Norwegians, and 2 Germans. We did a lot of chatting in the early afternoon before organizing a trek over to a viewpoint to see the sunset. The trip was a bust because the viewpoint was just a small clearing mostly obscured by trees. It was burger night back at the hostel though, so we used it as an excuse to eat dinner.
Later in the evening, we went to watch a snorkel test. Apparently, when someone passes a dive certification (might specifically be for dive master) it’s tradition to chug a liter of alcohol through a snorkel. So that happened. Then there was a crazy storm with heavy rain and terrifying lightning. We got stuck in an expensive bar waiting for it to subside. From there, we did a little bit of relatively tame bar hopping before calling it a night.
In the morning, most of the group went on a snorkeling trip around the Gili islands. Two marquee stops I was excited about were the underwater statue sculpture and a site called turtle haven.
They did not disappoint. Most people say that the statue area is always teeming with people so it’s impossible to really enjoy it. We were lucky because there was practically nobody there. Maybe the previous nights rain kept people away or something. Whatever the reason, I was happy to scope it out in detail without getting whacked in the face by a million other flippers.
Turtle haven was sort of a mixed bag. There were a good amount of turtles there, but they were all sleeping on the bottom, which was probably 30ft down. Thankfully, there was one active turtle in a shallower area. It went up for air really close to me so I was able to get a decent look at it.
The last stop was called fish garden. Living up to its name, there was a continuous swarm of cool looking fish. At one point they were all up on me because that’s where the food was. Kind of sweet.
We had group lunch on Gili Air and then returned to the hostel. A rather solid few hours in the water.
My plan was to head back to Bali the following day, so I needed to sort out my boat reservation. I called the number that was on my receipt to confirm my ticket and got one of those recordings that the number was out of service. Not ideal. I went looking for the company’s office with Missy and after a rather long search found they were closed. Something I was going to have to sort out the day of, clearly. Ominous signs though.
With the rest of the afternoon at my disposal, I decided to do something I’d never done before. A trip within the trip. A sort of under the radar yet well-known thing to do on Gili T is to have a magic mushroom shake. It sounded interesting and I’m all about new experiences on this journey, so I decided to go for it.
It was more of a smoothie than a shake, really. Greenish. Looked like a drink that a health nut would frequently have. It tasted ok actually. Not quite on par with that Naked Green Machine juice or whatever, but not too far away. Imbibed; delighted.
Then it was a waiting game.
I sat in the main area of the hostel for a long time and had so many different conversations. It was mainly just a regular high, nothing too psychedelic. Hearing Norwegian spoken at a rapid pace was mind blowing. Outside of that, there were a few giggle fits which is par for the course. I wish I was better at documenting some of the quotes at the time to see if they were even remotely humorous now. My guess is not.
Missy and I couldn’t tell if we were hungry but we went with the group to dinner anyway. It was a good choice to change venues and keep the fun chat going.
By the time that was done and we were back at the hostel, I was more or less back to normal. We finished off the night with a few friendly rounds of cards and that was that.
The next morning I said my goodbyes and went to the boat office again with a hopeful attitude. The phone number still wasn’t working, but there wasn’t much I could do. The manager said a reservation wasn’t made for me, so nothing was official. The boat I was looking to take only left once a day too. It headed back to Bangsal harbor before going to Bali, so he said I could try to find the guy I bought the ticket from and sort it out quickly. I only had 10 minutes before it embarked though.
When we got to Bangsal, the dude was actually walking up to the boat so finding him was no issue. He complained about me not calling him even after I explained several times that the number he gave me didn’t work. He told me to wait somewhere and he would go get the money to make the arrangements. He just got out of sight before I realized that was stupid and should follow him. I didn’t find him, but he resurfaced a few minutes later and walked me back toward the dock. Again, he was complaining and stalling and making excuses. He said he would let me stay for free and take the boat tomorrow even though I had to leave on the one that day (I already made hostel reservations and it was too late to cancel). During the argument, I saw the boat push away from the wharf. Obviously. Once again, the dude told me he would give me a refund and told me to wait at a specific spot. This time he gave me his cell phone as collateral. It was a shitty ass Nokia brick. Nobody really needs that shit back.
As I was standing there, a few different guys came up asking me where I was trying to go and tried to empathize. They said that guy was a bad man and all this stuff. Of course they were quick to offer me a discounted ticket through their company because they liked me. “I’ll even take an extra 50,000 off if you give me the phone so I can sell it.” Shit like that. It was a clever ruse that I think everybody was in on. I was deep enough in that I would be buying another boat ticket either way. I was still trying to make my destination work while juggling under duress. My only solution was to get a boat to a completely different harbor and then pay for a car up to Amed. Eventually, I shelled out for a ticket for the next boat. At least I’d be back in Bali and away from this mess.
On the boat ride over, I was researching routes and costs for the ride to Amed. Paying for a car by myself was expensive. It wasn’t an option I was interested in. Taking a shuttle to another destination was cheaper, but I would still have to forfeit what I paid for my hostel reservation. Yada yada.
I bailed on Amed to return to Seminyak and be in a more developed area that I was familiar with. Plus, it’s more convenient to the airport when I fly out. It’s not a concession I’m thrilled about, but it made more financial sense to go this way.
Somewhat of a sour note to end on. I fell for an elaborate scam. It was layered and well-played. And it was bound to happen to me in Asia at some point. Hopefully I’ve gotten it out of the way early. At a minimum, it was a proper learning experience. Now I know what signs to look for, exactly what questions to ask, and what information to insist on before putting money down.
A harbor in Bali is really a beach with a few tents and some small boats moored to the shore. That’s what I found out when I showed up to catch a lift to Nusa Lembongan.
As a brief geography lesson, there are 3 islands to the east of mainland Bali: Lembongan (closest), Ceningan (smallest), and Penida (largest).
After a while of waiting, the cruise over to the island was just 30 minutes. Pulling into Jungut Batu was beautiful. It was a clear day, there was blue, blue water and a cliff with embedded houses overlooking the bay. I boarded a shuttle that took me to my accommodation on the other side of the island. Well, it was really more of a small truck with two benches in the bed, but it did the trick.
Garden Cottage #1
The harbor area was much busier with people, shops, and restaurants than where I was staying. The southwest corner of the island was much more desolate and felt spread out. I think there were only 6 other people staying at my place, if that, and I saw them very fleetingly. It felt like I had the whole cottage, pool and restaurant to myself.
Unsurprising news flash: Bali is hot. I went for a walk to find lunch and see some sights. I hit the nearby hotspots of Dream Beach, Devil’s Tear, Mushroom Beach and then Sunset Point to end the evening. On the way to the last stop i met a retired American couple who were long term traveling. They told me about their plans for the upcoming months and clued me into something called The Great Loop which is a sailing journey through the eastern seaboard waters of the US and Canada. They did it over the course of 2017 and had awesome things to say about it. Sounds like a worthwhile future endeavor.
Sunset Point
Once the sun dipped beyond the horizon, we parted ways and I returned to my hostel.
Subsequent unsurprising news flash: I’ve sweat through every article of clothing multiple times at this point. Laundry is in dire need.
The next morning I was up at 6:30am to get ready for a snorkeling trip. I grabbed a quick breakfast and hitched a scooter ride to the harbor. This dude comfortably did 40+km/hr while weaving around people with me on the back holding on for dear life. Nice.
There was a group of about 20 people of varying ages and nationalities on board the boat for the snorkel trip. The skipper’s English was limited and he had a no-nonsense attitude but it worked out.
Our first location was Manta Bay off the south coast of Nusa Penida. It’s a popular spot for…you guessed it, manta rays. There were several snorkelers already in the water and the captains of the boats were yelling to each other where the rays were so everybody was encouraged to get in quickly.
I hopped in and immediately saw one about 30ft below. Several people were freediving down to get a closer look. I tried that as well but could only go so deep. I’m not sure if we saw two in total or just the same one in different spots but it was sweet.
The people on my boat re-boarded after just a few minutes in the water so we moved onto our next spot which pretty fast. At Crystal Bay there was some deece soft coral in with relatively vibrant fish activity. It was also quite shallow in areas so I was able to dip down and get a cool perspective right above the reef.
I was the last one back in the boat again as we shipped off to our last destination. This one wasn’t in the shelter of a bay so the current was quite strong. It was another shallow spot though with harder, less colorful coral. There were still some alright fish and shapes but it was a slightly anticlimactic way to end the day.
By the time we were back to land and I grabbed a ride to the hostel, it was only 1pm. With so much of the day still left, I decided to hire a scooter for myself and see areas of the island I hadn’t yet.
My Chariot
I honestly can’t recall if I’ve ever taken a scooter or similar vehicle for a spin. If I have, it’s been ages so it was basically a whole new experience. The controls are simple enough, but balance and road etiquette were the two things I had to get up to speed on. Luckily, there are basically no rules required to drive in Bali so that part was easy. I mean you drive on the left and you honk when you’re overtaking someone or going around a blind corner, but that’s about it.
It took a little bit of getting used to but no major mishaps thankfully. Don’t worry, Mom, I wore a helmet just in case. Pretty sure I stood out like the n00b I was, but since I’m accident prone, I figured it was the safer call.
I drove around the island twice, stopping at Panorama Point, the mangrove forest and Yellow Bridge, which connects Lembongan to Ceningan. Cruising along the southwestern coast offered some pretty killer views of the other two islands while the tide was retracting.
For dinner, I scooted on back to Jungut Batu to meet up with some people from the backpacking Facebook group. We were discussing pooling together to do a day trip around Nusa Penida in the following days so thought it was a good opportunity to meet beforehand. Sarah and Alina, two young, pretty and chipper ladies from Germany, were at a nice cafe next to the beach. We ate and connected quickly over random conversation as dusk transitioned into a proper night sky.
We still had details to sort out, but from a personality standpoint it was a solid match. They went back to their guesthouse and I found a random sports bar to watch the Tottenham game. There were actually a few other fans there and it ended in a solid victory so that was a positive note.
The last act of the day was a late night scooter ride back to my hostel. It wasn’t too eventful which was good. The only thing I had to watch out for were bugs and stray dogs trying to bite my ankles on the way by.
Success. Not a scratch to myself or the motorbike. Mission accomplished. I could get used to this.
In the morning, I got a very generous free ride down to Yellow Bridge where I caught the public boat over to Nusa Penida.
Yellow Bridge #3
It only took around 15 minutes and I reached my bungalow after a brief taxi ride.
I thought I booked a place with a decent amount of stuff going on around it. I walked around the area to find that wasn’t really the case. There were maybe a handful of restaurants but that was about it.
Thankfully, my place had its own kitchen and offered live music every night. It also seemed like I had a solid room of people. The first person I met was an attractive and kind Dutch gal named Joyce. We shared a few travel stories and upcoming plans with each other. She was getting over Typhoid Fever. Intense! Kind of coincidental because I totally forgot about taking those pills until two weeks prior. Anyhow, i invited her along on the Penida day tour and made the final arrangements in booking a driver and the remaining details.
Penida Colada Sunset
As happy hour approached, I decided to check out a bar I’d seen recommendations for — Penida Colada. How clever. It was a prime spot on the water and even though it was north facing, we still got a gorgeous hint of colors from the sunset. I was definitely grinning while I finished my 2 for 1 cocktails.
I returned to the hostel and joined a few of my other roommates for dinner and drinks while the band began to play. The basic outfit of singer/guitarist, bassist and box drummer crushed it. The guys voice was smooth as hell. It’s always funny to listen to a non-English speaker sing in a perfect American accent.
My alcohol hiatus obviously came to an end. I may have had one too many Bintangs over the course of the night but it didn’t turn into anything outlandish.
That being said, I woke up early nursing a mild hang. I had to meet our driver and go to the harbor to pick up Joyce, Sarah, Alina and new addition, Maaike, before we got the day underway.
If you’re wondering why we needed a driver, the reason is the condition of the roads. The main part of the island has paved roads, with lane markings even — something I barely even saw on the mainland — outside of that though, as in on the way to the attractions we were visiting, they became a shit show. Steep and rough terrain with some of the most uneven grade and biggest potholes I’ve ever seen. I’m honestly not sure how even the most experience motorbike driver was able to navigate those “roads” but I’m glad I didn’t try it myself. There were many, many stories of daily tourist accidents.
Apart from the lovely scenery of the European ladies I was with, there was also some nature to look at.
We wound our way to Angel’s Billabong, Broken Beach, the Kelingking Cliff viewpoint and Crystal Bay Beach with a stop for lunch thrown in there.
The vastness of these sites doesn’t really come through in photos. Kelingking Cliff (second pic above) was particularly dramatic. I’m not sure exactly how high the lookout was, but the people on the beach below were just specks.
Penida Tour Group
Again, it was a hot ass day. Our last stop gave us an opportunity to cool off with a much needed dip in the water. Totally refreshing.
It ended up being a super chill group and a pleasant day of touring around. Joyce and I dropped the girls off back at the harbor and began a mission of finding a fairly priced boat to take us to Lombok since we were both continuing our travels there soon. Bargaining proved to be difficult. We got stonewalled by two guys that claimed it was a fixed price so we shelved that for the time being.
That wasn’t the only thing to rain on our parade. An actual storm moved in. We waited it out under an awning since the scooter she rented was about to turn up anyway.
In chatting, she told me she was going on a dive the following day and that I should join. Diving was something I strongly considered doing in Asia, partially because it’s supposed to be good but also really cheap comparatively. Her shop was on the way back to our hostel so we stopped in for me to get some more info.
The owner of the shop agreed to accommodate me on such short notice and I was given a little bit of homework to study before returning early the next morning to knock out the introductory skills.
I think Joyce was more excited than I was about it. That’s not to say I wasn’t, but for some reason I just had no expectations at all about the experience. She was already open water certified so she just had a better idea of what was in store for us.
That night we got dinner together and bonded over a talk about personal development and our motivations to travel. This might’ve been the best conversation I’ve had across my entire trip. It felt special to share such a similar perspective with someone who I otherwise wouldn’t have ever met.
Me & Joyce Pre-Dive
In the morning she was nice enough to drop me at the dive center. Jason was the owner and my instructor/guide for the day. In a pool, he walked me through the 4 procedures I had to pass to be able to do the real thing. It only took a few minutes because apparently I knocked it out. I’ve heard it takes a while to get used to breathing through the regulator underwater. At this point with all the snorkeling I’ve done, I feel well-adapted to keeping my head below the surface for hours.
Since that was such a breeze, I basically hung out for an hour to wait for everybody else to arrive. Once it was time, we grabbed all of the necessary equipment and were transported to the boat.
The first dive site was Manta Bay. Familiar territory. This was an awesome opportunity to see manta rays up close and personal.
Me, Jason and Joyce were all paired together, with Jason keeping a close eye on me. The first descent was a slow process. I had a lot of trouble with my ears equalizing. That was the thing I was most focused on for the first dive but didn’t encounter any other issues. It wasn’t necessarily a very scenic site and we were actually unlucky to not see any mantas while we were below the surface.
Eventually, my air supply got to 50 bar and that meant it was time to head back up. Once we got above the water and could talk, Jason said it had been an hour and that was one of the longest dives he’s done in a long time. He was very complimentary of my air consumption and body position. Said that I was super relaxed and communicated well with the hand signals and everything. Excellent to have a knack for such a unique activity.
The only bummer was no mantas. We climbed back into the boat and stripped our tanks off. Jason was actually frustrated by the lack of mantas as well so he said we would stick around for a little bit. There were some other boats there with people snorkeling and that gave us a bead on one. Joyce and I jumped in with just snorkeling gear to go see. Boom. There was a massive one effortlessly gliding through the water. It was deep down again but must’ve been at least as big as my wingspan. We followed it for a little bit and then got back on the vessel.
We cruised over to Crystal Bay, another familiar spot and moored up. Everybody ate a little lunch before getting ready to head in for the second dive. I had a lot of water in my ears so was curious how equalizing would be this time around.
The 3 of us got in and used the anchor line to help us descend. It was an easier time getting down to depth.
I had my GoPro with me, but I didn’t have an underwater case. It’s only operable up to 10m aka 30ft before the water pressure makes the buttons unpressable. I started recording a video before we reached that level but once we got there, it was out of my control. I thought it shut off so I stopped caring about it for a bit. We saw a moray eel in some coral getting its teeth cleaned by a smaller fish. I didn’t even try to capture it. Then we saw a Hawksbill turtle grubbing on something in the coral. I saw a red light flashing on the camera so had Jason take it and really get in there. The GoPro turned itself on photo time lapse mode, which I found out later, but at least it was capturing something. For the rest of the dive I was using it as if it was recording video. I’m happy it continued getting images because some of them are epic (even if I had to sort through 2000+ pics).
This dive was much more memorable. There was substantially better coral and marine life. Plus I had less trouble with the equalization so was able to really have a good look around. It was almost another hour long dive before we were back top side.
I felt good about what we saw while we were still on the boat but I’m even more stoked now looking at the photos. Joyce and I both considered extending our stays on Penida just to dive again in those areas. I’m really interested in doing an open water certification but even though it’s cheaper here, it’s probably too cost prohibitive to my overall trip fund.
Back on land, we had most of the afternoon to decompress and relax. Joyce and I ended up having another awesome talk over dinner, maybe even better than the previous night. Then, we went back to the hostel to pack our things to leave the next morning.
We didn’t have a ton of information, but we were planning to catch a slow ferry to Padang Bai (a port on Bali) and from there another ferry to Lombok. It was the cheapest option but also between 7-9 hours of travel.
Whatever it takes to keep some coin in the travel coffers.
If I was feeling a bit old after my sailing trip on the Whitsundays, it was quelled somewhat by the guy who sat next to me on my bus ride up to Magnetic Island.
Dave was a 55+ guy from Phoenix. He told me how he recently sold his business and his house to long-term travel. We were on similar trajectories but in different phases of life. And traveling in different ways as well. He wasn’t doing the hostel thing yet. “Private rooms,” he said, “with the occasional house sit.” I’m keeping my eye on that game because like Workaway, it’s a great opportunity to extend that budget.
We parted ways when I got off in Townsville to catch the ferry over to the island. I was once again playing it by ear at this destination. I’d done basically no research about what there was to do. I reserved a hostel based on the recommendation of someone from my Fraser trip, but that’s about it. I heard it was a very chill spot without all that much going on.
I got off the ferry and realized I had to catch a bus to the other side of the island. I expected everything to be in walking distance but not quite.
On the bus ride, I could see why a lot of people suggest making the trip over. It was an island that had a lot of mountains that opened themselves up into beautiful bays. And it seemed like people were scarce wherever you went. Not bad.
Geoffrey Bay
My hostel was a collection of cozy cabins around a relaxing pool and bar, with a wildlife center on the grounds as well.
The cabins didn’t look like anything special from the outside but they were pretty comfortable on the inside.
On my first full day, I wanted to go for a long walk. I found a trail up to an old Fort site that I believe was used in WWII. The soldiers had pretty sick views while they were there, that’s for sure. Although it must have sucked to transport all of the building material up there. I saw a handful of koalas sleeping up in the trees on my way down too.
I kept up the walk on a bush trail that cut inland for a ways. I was the only one on it and anxiously waiting to cross paths with a snake or a rock wallaby. Surprisingly, no such encounters. It was insanely hot though. The sun was taking no prisoners on this day.
I got to an area called Arcadia and took a break to cool down and grab a bite to eat. I grubbed on a toastie and some chips until I stopped actively sweating. An hour later, I continued along a coastal path.
Eventually, I made it to Nelly Bay, which was the main settlement on the island. It’s where the grocery store (yes, ‘the’) and the ferry terminal are. I think there were a few bars/restaurants but I didn’t see all that much.
After pausing for another sweat break, I retraced my steps back to the hostel and b-lined it for the pool. All in all, I walked for around 4 or 5 hours, maybe 15kms or so. It was nice. I was feeling deficient in exercise so it was good to get a wander in.
The next day I went for another stroll to explore the northeast part of the island. The nearest area to the hostel was called Horseshoe Bay and was a popular swimming spot since they had a stinger net set up.
I found another bush trail that would take me to two other pretty isolated bays. I went up and down a small mountain to get to Radical Bay. I figured there would be a smattering of people enjoying the sun and water. I got there to find just one family on the other side of the bay. Presumably they belonged to the sailboat that was moored just a bit off shore. Still, that was it. Two adults and a child. Not too shabby.
I climbed back up the mountain and down a different path to the neighboring Balding Bay. The signs advertised it as the nudist spot. Again, I was anticipating several beach towels under pairs of old balls and leathery skin. I passed an unfit man on the way down and felt ok that he was leaving. Good timing.
I stepped off the path and onto the sand to find literally no one. Not a soul in this small, secluded bay.
I made my mind up that I was going to participate in the nudeness just to see what the experience was all about. Plus, my ghostly thighs could benefit from a few rays.
The emptiness made it a little anticlimactic. At the same time it was kind of exhilarating to have the whole place to myself. Then I realized that there was a couple over yonder as one of them uncamouflaged and went into the water. Then some dude kept walking 3 steps off the path to take pictures. I’m sure he was trying to get a sick snap of the serenity for Insta but I couldn’t help but feel it was a faux pas to spend that much time on your camera at the nudist beach.
I left after a half hour or so as to not lobsterify the private bits. I passed a couple and a family right as I was getting back on the path. Close call, kids.
That evening I hung out in Horseshoe to watch a setting sun disappear over the protruding land that comprised the left side of the shoe’s U.
Sunset at Horseshoe Bay #2
It was definitely a chill time on the island. There were a fair share of palm trees that gave it a tropical feel, juxtaposed by the rocky inner hills and mountains.
The following day I caught the ferry back to the mainland and rode a 6 hour bus up to Cairns. This would be my last stop in Australia, and I had 3 big excursions planned to finish it off on a high note.
The first day I was up at 6am to catch a fishing charter. It was an inlet trip that had 5 other people on it.
I had high hopes of hooking some bigguns until we spent the first hour watching the captain unsuccessfully throw out a net to catch some live bait. Seriously, we went to like 5 different spots and looked on helplessly as he kept saying, “You just never know where they’re gonna be,” and pulled up an empty net. “Nope. Nobody home.”
Finally, he motored us out to the first spot where we were able to get our lines in the water.
Two people caught finger marks that were too small to keep. Two creepy looking eels were also landed. Or at least reeled in to where we could see em and then cut the line. The one in the video below is the smaller one. The big boy was probably about 3 times its size, which is nuts. My phone was too scared to record it.
At the second spot, I caught a small basic fish. I was surprised because the bait seemed too big for this thing to be snacking on. A short while later, somebody caught a modest catfish. The most exciting thing that happened was a monster strike. The sad part is that it was likely a sting ray because it booked it and was so heavy that the line snapped.
We went to two more spots where not much more was caught. It kind of felt like the skipper was moderately inept. It’s also possible that I had this feeling because I was bitter we didn’t have a stronger day. I understand that’s the nature of fishing, but I felt like we could’ve been set up for more success. It was at least cool to get out and cast a few lines again. It had been so long.
I was back to the hostel by 1pm so I got some lunch and hung around to socialize. I ended up running into Janina from the Whitsundays trip. We hung out for a while and chatted with some random people from the hostel. She went to some ladies night event and I decided to turn in.
The next morning I geared up for a “fun and falls” tour in the tablelands/rainforest. The company was called Uncle Brian’s and came recommended by Stephany. I gathered outside with a few others and boarded a full bus of some 20 people.
Our guide, Adam, was a hilarious and energetic dude. He wore a set of fake hillbilly teeth when he went around to pick everyone up. I was curious about em and glad they were a joke.
He told some pretty good stories and gave us good background on various Australian enigmas on our way out to the first stop.
By the time we got there, we were getting the full effects of the rainforest. It was pissing outside but we still took a walk to see the Babinda Boulders, which were a series of rocks that have been hollowed out by running water.
Next, we went to Josephine Falls which had a rock slide and swimming pool from mountain runoff. Initially, Adam was wondering if we’d even be able to swim because there was so much rain that the river’s whitewater could be too powerful, making the conditions unsafe.
When we got to the spot it was all good. He did a demonstration run and then let the group go for it. There were a few unconfident swimmers that stayed ashore and watched the rest of us get our slide on.
The water was running with a pretty strong current and it was difficult to swim in certain spots. The rocks were also super slippery, so I could see how it could be risky.
That actually ended up coming into play when it was time to go. We’d been there for about an hour and the water level probably rose about 6 inches to the no-swim line. However, there were several group members that still had to make it across the pool back to the safe side.
There was particularly one girl that wasn’t a good swimmer and made a few unsuccessful attempts before she started to panic. Adam and another guide had to jump in and throw some ropes to get her to land.
In getting himself back across, Adam was swimming and missed his mark. He almost went down a grinding section of river. He was literally hanging onto a rock by his fingernails before another guide went out to help him get a strong enough footing. It was real dicey and after that point it was clear no other groups would be allowed in.
We were able to steady our nerves with some lunch before heading to another waterfall. Millaa Milllaa Falls is a picturesque waterfall where people take one of a few iconic Australian photos. It’s an Herbal Essence-type hair flick, capturing the arch of the water trail perfectly with the falls in the background. They really shot a commercial there once. A lot of people in the group nailed it, even some of the guys. Unfortunately, we will never see the evidence because Adam misplaced the camera at the end of the trip so we weren’t able to get the images. A pretty big bummer because I wasn’t using my own camera since it was raining so much. Maybe it will turn up at some point. Fingers crossed.
En route to the next spot, he instigated a sing-along/jam session by busting out some percussive instruments and a bubble machine. The highly amateur cymbal and tambourine playing got grating real fast but somehow the bubbles made it ok. A nice group of fellow tour-goers kept spirits high throughout the day even though we had brutal weather.
We stopped at a freshwater lake that had a crocodile in it (that we didn’t see) and a gnarly fig tree before heading back to Cairns. It was a decent little trip in the end that could’ve only been made better by some sun and some photos of the experience.
That evening I did a free booze circuit by winning trivia at the hostel (free shot), going to a hostel-hosted event (free mixed drink), and going to an Uncle Brian’s after party at another bar (free pitchers). I need to exploit this train more often.
For my last full day, it was time to snorkel the Great Barrier Reef.
I boarded the SeaQuest at 8am and watched the rain clouds swirl into Cairns. As we departed the harbor and got our safety briefing, it began to pour. Seemed like it was going to be rough weather yet again.
After cruising out to sea for a little over an hour some of the clouds parted ways and it was looking like maybe we’d be able to avoid the serious rain.
There were more divers than snorkelers on board so they went out to prepare first. Then the 6 of us top water folk were able to jump in. I was paired with an older gentlemen since all of the other people were coupled up. Buddy system and all that.
At the Reef
Firstly, I was surprised by the setting. I thought we’d be in really shallow, crystal blue water with panoramic views of the reef. It kinda looked like we were just in the middle of the ocean near a barge and two other ships. The overcast day may have played a part in that.
Anyhow, we got in the water and immediately saw a ton of fish loitering around our boat. We swam out a little ways and found the reef. It was a lot more vibrant and lively than any of the reefs I snorkeled in the Whitsundays. Conditions-wise, it was a lot more turbulent being the ocean and whatnot. It was funny because whenever I got pushed around by a wave, I could see the same happen to all the fish a few feet below. Interesting that I thought they wouldn’t be affected.
The reef ranged from 3-30ft deep, roughly, so it was cool to see the difference in aquatic life at those two depths. We saw one turtle and of course a million different varieties of fish.
We were called back to the boat after what felt like 20 minutes but was actually an hour and a half. Time for lunch and to move the boat.
After we grubbed, we were given another hour and a half in the water. My elderly partner took a nap after lunch, so I was finning it somewhat solo out there.
The boat didn’t move all that far but it was enough to see a different section of reef. There were a few moments where I was being stalked by some mammoth fish off in the distance. I kept turning my head to see it looking at me, then it would move on a little bit and be on my 6 a few minutes later. It looked pretty gnarly too. Like some dark prehistoric thing with large fins and a thin stinger at the bottom or something. It never came close enough to be a real problem, but it was unsettling. I also saw a black tip reef shark at one point. It was swimming slowly along near the bottom, like 20ft down so I wasn’t able to get a great look at it.
Fish Stalker
I returned to the boat just in time to beat a heavy rain that moved in quickly. The whole GBR snorkeling experience went by in a flash. It would’ve been cool to have a little more sun to make the colors of the reef stand out more but it was still righteous. I was also hoping for a few more marquee species, but I’ll take what I can get.
We sailed back to the marina and that was that. All of my notable Australian adventures had come to a close (for this time around).
The only thing left to do was repack my things and shuttle to the airport for my flight to Bali the next day.
It’s hard to believe that another few months have elapsed. There were some highs and lows in there without question. I’ll throw together a little summary of Australia post in the next few days to wrap up all of my thoughts.
Sydney is not the capitol of Australia FYI. From what I heard, the rivalry between Melbourne and Sydney led to a compromise which saw Canberra receive the honors. I thought that was an interesting tidbit.
My bus had a quick pit stop in Canberra on the way to Sydney but I can’t say I saw much of it.
We arrived in Sydney around 930pm. The Central Station stop was right across the street from my hostel. Clutch. Sydney’s CBD was much more spread out than Melbourne’s but being by this hub was perfect.
I checked into my hostel, Wake Up!, and had a look around. It was a relatively new place with modern amenities. It had good reviews and reflected that in the cost.
I was in an 8-bed dorm. The first night I was woken up to a guy pissing on the floor at 6am. The last time I experienced something like that was in college. Bros. Ugh. My bag was so close to the danger area too. The dude checked out in a cloud of shame the next morning. Or he was just moving on anyway, but I’ll pretend.
A big benefit was that the hostel offered a free walking tour so I hopped on that. It was a big group and the tour took around 4 hours. I enjoyed the walking aspect and the places we stopped, but it was less informative than I thought it would be. Either way, it was a good intro to the city.
It was Friday and the adjoining bar was offering free drinks to hostel guests, so I capitalized on that. It seemed like watered down Goon (Australia’s Franzia). In any event, there was a limited amount so bottoms went up.
That led to a few hours of dancing. There was a DJ that played live saxophone along with a few songs. I hadn’t experienced that before. It made the set marginally more interesting.
The next morning there was another group walk to the Glebe Markets. At first I was underwhelmed by the amount of thrift clothing tents but then I found my jam. It was a guy making one-of-a-kind items from up-cycled materials. There were some fresh hats. Two for $50 which really wasn’t bad but I didn’t neeeeeeeed it. I did a few more laps around the market to see if it continued calling to me. I popped my head in a few more times but couldn’t pull the trigger.
I still want one.
I never got a card and don’t know what the shop was even called. Amateur hour. I did overhear the guy saying he was working on getting his website and Instagram accounts up and running. Damn. I may never find them again.
Regardless, I had somewhere to be that afternoon anyway. There was a pool party going down in Bondi. I was connected to this sitch through a friend of a friend (thanks, Makaye!). Stephany used to live in Richmond but has resided in Sydney for the last 2 years. She’d been advising me on cool shit to do and also invited me to hang out with her and her friends. One of whom, Maria, was in town from the US and formally lived in Richmond as well.
Pool. Party.
*Photo Courtesy of Maria
I was mad excited to chill at a pool with a group of people my age who were residents of the place. There was a BBQ, there was beer, there was sun and everybody was really nice to talk to. It was also an informal congratulatory party for Jules and Denise getting engaged.
I later ended up going back to their place to borrow some clothes from Jules to go out. He also took me on an impromptu tasting of some whiskeys and piscos. Incredibly fun and passionate people.
We rejoined the rest of the crew at a hoity-toity cocktail bar called Mrs. Sippy’s. Everybody there was paying someone to bleach their teeth and their assholes. Separate people, probably.
It wasn’t really that bad. But it kinda was. Also, the only piece of my outfit that belonged to me was my underwear. I’d like to think that played no part in my assessment of this bar.
Eventually, we moved to the Coogee Bay Hotel & Bar. As an aside, “hotels” are largely just bars. I don’t think they let drunk patrons sleep there, or anyone for that matter. I don’t know. Maybe they were all hotels during the Gold Rush but then converted to restaurant/bars at a certain point.
Either way, this place was massive. It had several bars, a live band with a dance floor, and a grill with some delicious looking sausages.
There was a moment where two of Stephany’s friends dragged me on the dance floor and told me that I had to enjoy this song because it was the most Australian song ever written. I have no idea what that song was. I recall it being relatively dad-rocky, but have no clue beyond that.
Around 3am, I decided it was time to head back. I got a bus card and rode that puppy home.
The following day was a Santa-themed pub crawl around Manly Beach. I caught the ferry out of the city in the early afternoon. On Sundays, it only costs $2.50 for unlimited public transportation which was sick. Nice to get that perspective of Sydney for so cheap.
Sydney from the Water
Myself, Stephany, Maria and Marta lounged in the sand for a bit before donning our Santa gear. The girls all looked great and I looked ridiculous (on purpose). I was wearing a scandalous apron. Notice the strategically placed mistletoe.
The crawl began. Apparently it had been off to the races for a while. At the first bar we went to, which seemed completely chill, a chick vomited through her hand onto the floor. It was 2:15pm at best. Giddyup. The second place had music blasting and a saucy dance party happening insane. The line outside, however, which we were in, came to a stand still right when it was getting good (video doesn’t do it justice).
We went to another hotel (bar) and chilled on the balcony for a few beers and snacks before catching the ferry back to downtown. Stephany took Maria and I to a semi-classy rooftop spot with a solid view of the Opera House.
In case you were wondering, I was still wearing the apron. Two people were kind enough to mime some extremely sexual actions while I ordered my drink. It was an experience.
Light Show at St. Mary’s Cathedral
We ended the night by watching a holiday light show displayed on St. Mary’s Cathedral. It was a story for children about making friends or something. The voice actor had to do some weird singing and “meowing.” Nonetheless, a solid cap to the evening.
The following day I wandered around the city some more. I retraced a few of the walking tour steps to spend more time at a few places and checked out some carnivorous plants. Then I met up with Stephany and Maria to head to the fish market. It was almost closed, but we were able to snag a sushi donut for $10, which I’m told is a steal. I wasn’t familiar with the concept before. To clarify, it’s various types of sushi in the shape of a donut. There is no actual dough. The construction and taste were quite fantastic. I’d highly recommend if you’re ever in the area.
ANZAC Memorial
The Calyx #2
Sydney Fish Market
Next, we took a train over to Newtown, an artsy suburb, to walk around. That meant finding a brewery and getting a flight. I was in my element. The beer was aight. We went to yet another hotel and I got a local Strong Ale. Again, deece/sub-deece.
We made a plan to venture out to Blue Mountains in the morning, so we went back to our corners to rest up.
It was an early morning rendezvous at Central Station to catch a train to Katoomba. We had visions of doing a 3 hour trek around the Three Sisters before doing a 3 hour canyon walk. The guy at the information desk essentially laughed at us because there just wasn’t enough time in the day to complete it all.
Three Sisters
Instead, we hit the lookout and also walked down to touch the Three Sisters. Then we went on some crazy track down the Furber Steps. Aptly named because there were so many steps.
Along the way, we heard a sonar-like ding, echolocation noise happening that was really bizarre. Turned out to be Bell Miners (birds), even though we couldn’t see them.
At a junction on the trail, we came to one of the strangest signs I’ve ever seen. There were two options that would both take 45 minutes — one was “medium” and the other “moderate.”
Very curious if there will be a clear consensus on this question.
Anyway, we chose the moderate path and continued on. I was leading the group and we walked through a section that was very much in the bush. I kept thinking that I was going to either get webbed and bitten by a spider or step on a snake. Thankfully none of those things occurred. We found a cozy picnic table under a canopy and had lunch before furiously climbing a shit ton of steps.
In the town of Leura, we had a victory drink and then boarded a train back to Sydney.
As Stephany napped, Maria and I had a solid conversation about spirituality, death and legacy.
I’m abusing polls now for some reason.
I walked back to my hostel as they caught their connecting train back to Steph’s flat. It was nice to do a decent walk in Australia. I’d been missing that since leaving New Zealand.
Why couldn’t there be a three and a half hour boat ride that was worth taking?
Oh wait. There was.
The ferry from Wellington to Picton was gorgeous. I’m pretty sure there was land in sight the whole time. And it was particularly beautiful once we got into the Marlborough Sounds. Very reminiscent of scooting around the islands around Seattle.
Ferry to Picton
There were some stunning bays/lagoons, a few large fishing areas, and plenty of boats out.
I can’t stress how impeccable the weather was. Especially considering that it’s absolutely pissing outside as I write this.
I boarded the ferry in Rob’s camper van (the German from Paihia and Taupo). Once we docked, we had a mission to get more information about the main reason we were there: to hike part of the Queen Charlotte Track. In its entirety it would take 3-5 days (70km), so we were only looking to do a portion.
We drove straight to the i-Site (helpful info centers they have all over the country). We found out that we basically had two options…to start from the beginning and get an hour-long water taxi out to a 15km section of track OR have a shorter boat ride to do a 25km stretch with ridgeline walking and 360º views. The first option was substantially cheaper based on a deal we found. It was a real toss up. People kept saying ridgeline walking and 360º views — I can’t reiterate this enough. So that’s what we went with.
The yellow was our track
Fast forward 24 hours and I found myself a touch disappointed and sporting a major calf strain. 25km of walking is pretty extreme. Also, the “ridgeline” walking with “360º views” was an oversell. The vast majority of the track was covered and there was only one lookout with maybe 270º views.
Me at Eatwells Lookout
It’s kind of shitty to be bitter about the experience since it was quite a nice walk and an amazing spectacle at the lookout. The thing that really turned the knife though, was when we were taking the water taxi back to town, we ran into Ellen, a Swede I’d met in Taupo and advised to do the cheap, shorter track.
Her and her walking mate saw dolphins and penguins on their water taxi, enjoyed an easy grade and had enough time to go swimming in a lagoon before boarding the boat home.
Damn.
Dolphins have been my white whale while in NZ. I mean, I guess whales have been too. Really all unique marine life, apart from seals and sting rays. Seals are a dime a dozen and I got stung by a ray back in San Diego so they can eff off for a while.
After getting over my bitterness, I had a soak in my hostel’s pseudo-warm tub. Rob was going to leave town but decided to stay to give the girls a ride to Nelson the following day. We then went over to their hostel and hung around in their scalding tub. It’s interesting that they can’t nail that temperature down.
Eventually a group assembled to go out for a beverage on a Monday night in Picton. First off, we all forgot/didn’t realize that it was a country-wide holiday (Labor Day). Secondly, Picton, while charming and cozy, only has about two streets. We walked around for all of five minutes before realizing we were going to have tough luck. Me and another American found a cafe that was in the process of closing up but willing to accommodate us for one beer. Fun times.
Then there were cartwheels in the street, singing under a memorial and talk of skinny dipping that never happened. It was a ghost town. Nice to follow up all the physical exertion with some socializing though.
Next up for me was, aside from hoping my legs would work again, catching a bus to Nelson and meeting my next Workaway host.
