Newcastle

Before I left Brisbane, I got my half-broken tooth looked at by a dentist. It apparently wasn't in danger of decay so it didn't need to be rebuilt or pulled, so the broken part was ground smooth and I was sent on my way.

I flew to Newcastle on Saturday the 12th. It was an easy, seventy minute flight, but I soon found that buses don't run on the weekends from the airport into the city, which was twenty miles away. After a $54 taxi ride, I got to the Cambridge Hostel, where I had booked two nights. It was above a bar with a band playing, so it was quite loud and rowdy. I didn't find many people upstairs when I dropped off my stuff, so I wandered around for about an hour, listened to the so-so punk band, and called it a night. I thought I would have one other person in my room for the night, but was awoken at 4am by three drunk guys and a girl who said the room had been overbooked and that I had to get out. I told them I had as much right to the room as they did, but arguing with them was useless. I grudgingly gathered my stuff and moved to the lounge.

The receptionist was around at 7:30 and asked if I was checking out. I told her the situation, and another hostel employee, the receptionist, and I woke up the Aussies in my room. The girl was with one of the guys and the fourth bed hadn't even been touched. When asked why I had been kicked out, they of course had no good answer. They paid me for the room after some arguing, and went on their way. Unfortunately I had booked two nights at this loud, not very clean establishment, so I had to stay Sunday night as well.

I spent Sunday by having a look around the town. I rode the bus to the less sketchy part of town, got some coffee, people-watched, and admired the Tasman Sea at the beach. I also found a YHA hostel one block from the beach, and booked a room for Monday night. The help there agreed that the Cambridge was generally to be avoided.

I had read online that Newcastle has a weekly session on Sunday nights at one of its pubs. I made a trip to this pub, but found that either they weren't having the session anymore or weren't that week because of St Paddy's. Either way, I wound up watching movies at the Cambridge on my favorite couch all evening. There were a handful of English and Irish there, whose company I rather enjoyed. I even got to sleep the entire night in a bed I had paid for.

I didn't wait very long in the morning to get out of the Cambridge and over to the YHA, which was much more welcoming. The place was cleaner and had a more legitimate feel to it. Most of the people there though, weren't terribly friendly. The Japanese guy and the creepy Swedish guy in my room were willing to chat a little, but almost everyone else, save for one girl from Tennessee, would hardly say 'hello' if you greeted them, much less carry on a conversation. I found this true of many people in Newcastle, whether they were travelers or locals, and didn't particularly care for it.

I spent most of Monday on the beach, even attempting body surfing. It was a very pleasant, warm day with a touch of a breeze. The air in Newcastle was a bit drier than up north, a much needed change from the humidity of Queensland. The weather turned gray later in the day, so I wandered down Darby Street to see the shops and cafes. The evening was once again spent watching movies.

On the train ride from Ferny Grove to the airport in Brisbane, I got a call from Sue Muir, a friend of Doug Holly and Jane Horton. Sue lives in Armidale, in between Brisbane and Newcastle. She had offered me a place to stay if I were so inclined, and after my first rough night, I called her back Sunday to ask if Tuesday would work. I had planned on taking the train to Armidale that day, but the train had been replaced with a bus service, which was full on Tuesday morning when I attempted to buy a ticket. This meant another lovely day in Newcastle. I had already walked about two miles that morning to get some pictures of the beach, and now had to walk another mile and a half or so to get to the nearest hostel, carrying all sixty pounds of my stuff. Thankfully and luckily, they had plenty of beds left. The place was a little on the rustic side, but was nowhere near as dodgy as the Cambridge. I was in a rather foul mood because of how dumb I felt for not looking into tickets to Armidale sooner, but at least I wasn't going to be homeless for a night. I looked around that side of town a bit more, but mostly watched TV and read all day and evening. I had coffee with a girl from Taiwan in the morning, then got a ride to the station and was on my way north.

I seem to be failing at learning many basic travel lessons, such as carrying too much stuff in a not very comfortable bag, and not planning things well. I can't ever seem to relax and just go with the flow either, and I'm always worrying. I am only reaffirming my statement from some time ago that I am the absolute worst traveler ever. Maybe this backpacking thing isn't my deal.

My logistical incompetencies aside, I did have some splendid beach time. I sat in the sand for quite awhile Monday, watching the foam and water, and the people happily being smashed by the waves. I realized that that was the farthest from home I had ever been, was there for no reason at all, and I was completely by myself. And it was pretty great, except for the sand in my shorts.