The Commune

February 5

If anyone wants to know what happened to the spirit of the 60’s we found we its hiding place – in Bryon Bay in New South Wales.

Bryon Bay is one of those places that was full of surfers and hippies 25 years ago but is now dominated by those rich enough to pretend that they are returning to the simple life while staying in a million-dollar apartment and wearing some kind of strange amulet around their neck.

Right outside of Byron Bay is the Art Factory. It says that it is a hostel but it is really a sixties encampment with a better reception desk and a little bit of beach resort thrown in. Some of the hostel is built in a standard fashion around a pool (very rare at hostels) while others stay in the converted bus, the tepee or the tent encampment.

We tented, with our little tent amongst a lot of bigger tents. This was not a standard campground. We were led out to the site and various empty places in the mess of tents were pointed out as promising. The staff told us that many of the people had been on the site for months. We later found out that the tents (and contents) were often offered for sale by the current occupants to those wishing to stay longer.

The site was shared with a large number of large lizards (very nice but not talkative), bush turkeys and lots of loud birds. The bathrooms were covered with colourful drawings straight from the 60’s. The men’s washroom was designated as the Warriors – with “of love” in small letters.

We spent the evening at the adjoining bar where we met some of the locals. Two that we met were a dive instructor and a tree loper (cutter). They were riding their bikes around town to try to have a drink at every pub in town. I am pretty sure they didn’t make it although I did discover that I could still roll my own cigarettes – and that was before the shots of tequila (long story but it started with the dragon tattoo). All the while gigantic bats (flying foxes) flew overhead looking like black 747s against the sky.