Monday, October 29, 2012

The one and only BRYON BAY!

Day 6 (Friday)


We’re coming in hot, watch out Bryon!! We had heard so much about Bryon Bay, and so we were very excited for this day to be reality. We had even been tipped off that Art’s Factory was the hostel you MUST stay at. We drove into town and our first stop was to check out a surf shop to see how much we could get for the boards. The owner low balled us so we continued on our way. Stop two was the most eastern point of all of Australia. It was a huge lighthouse. Pretty cool light house but the view was much more breathtaking. In one direction was the town of Byron. Then as you panned around to your right, you saw the deep ocean blue was before you. Continuing right you then came across a beach filled with surfers. Far off in the distance we saw our first whale of the trip! It was splashing about and waving hello with its fin. Stop three: surfing! It was a bit overcast and I was filling a little sick so I stayed dry, but Cole fought the frost and was the only surfer without a wetty. 



















After a good surf, the best thing to do is get some hot liquids in you so we head to Twisted Sister Coffee Shop. My dominating thought of the coffee place was how much my mom would love this place. It was colorful and quant with a touch of cheesiness. I spent my time blogging about the first half of the trip (as you probably know, I never finished blogging until about a month later, aka now… oops!).


 Just before the sun was beginning to set we headed to the beach to grab a shore side parking spot. Out came the lawn chairs, table, and grill. We threw some snags (sausages) on the grill and sat back for the sunset show. It was a delicious dinner with a grand view. We then rolled to the famous Art’s Factory with an attached brewery. The combination of Cole, me, and good beer is a deadly one. To our surprise it was reggae night with a live dj. We spent the rest of the night enjoying ourselves and what we do best… dancing the night away. I think the bar tender is the only who knows how many jugs (pitchers, but a touch smaller) we went through until we called it a night and rolled into the reliable, old Sheldin. 

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