And back to Melbourne

As my Canadian friend Dani would put it, I am a frickin' ass! I have not done a single thing in Byron Bay that makes me think I am not a total fuckwit. When I stepped off the bus last Monday I was greeted with a very different sight to what I had previously experienced. The small town was rammed with backpackers. Teeming with them. I very nearly got straight back on the bus. Actually recently my favourite time is when I'm in transit - you don't have to do anything except sleep, you don't have to talk to anyone and can just retreat into your own little Ipod world where nothing is expected of you and you can almost convince yourself that when you get to your destination, this time it will be IT! and you will be happy and your real life will finally begin. Of course this illusion can be easily shattered upon arrival by things such as extortionate hostels ($40 for a 10 bed dorm!) arguments over mis-advertised prices of said hostel and then a refusal to refund money! That got me down a bit! After meeting and greeting the 9 other German girls in my room it became clear we had nothing in common (in fact I'm pretty sure one of them was a White Supremacist!) so we let each other be and I retreated into my book and enjoyed the first sleep in a bed in several days! After waking and showering (oh what bliss) I immediately set to job hunting. To cut a long and painfully tedious afternoon short I spent $32 printing CV's and handed them out to anyone who would accept; shops, cafe's, banks, supermarkets, restaurants, DVD stores, travel agents and takeaways. In some places I fell at the first hurdle by not being an Australian citizen despite my reasoning that if i get my second year visa then I will stick around. In most bars and some cafe's I failed inspection by not having my RSA cert (Responsioble Serving of Alcohol) - some ridiculous piece of paper saying that you know not to serve alcohol to steaming drunk people (uh, duh!) but which the East Coast seems really anal about their staff having. By late afternoon I had accepted a post at Wicked Travel handing out free internet vouchers on the street. Of course if I had been in my present mind then I would never do such a thing but there's only so many times a person can hear 'No' before they break apart. I started the next morning at 8am. Things did not get off to a good start when Lynne, the dried-up old cow who was to be my boss, decided that it was my fault I was too fat for the only tshirt she had left (size extra small) and that I had developed a C-cup specifically to spite her. My protestations fell on deaf ears and I was shoe horned into said tshirt and kicked onto the street, flyers in hand and lung capacity greatly reduced.

I have come to the conclusion that the life of a tout is akin to that of a prostitute. Quite aside from the fact that I was wearing skin tight clothes I soon discovered that other touts each have their own patch and that to trespass is a heinous crime. Shop owners also take offence to you and delight in chasing you away form their premises. But none of this is as bad as the reaction you get from Mr & Mrs Joe Public. After 2 hours of having all eye contact avoided and being skirted around like I had plague, I threw my flyers in the bin, threw my tshirt at Lynne and went for a coffee. I didn't even get paid.

At this point I decided that I deserved a dive (even though it was $90 a go!) I went to the dive shop and learned that I could dive for free if I worked as  guide. "You interested?" the man asked me. "The sites aren't deep and it's pretty basic navigation. In fact we need someone tomorrow morning." "Yeah I can do that," my mouth said. "NOOOOOOO!!! What the fuck are you doing dickhead?" my brain said. "You absolutely CANNOT do this. You will cock it up because you are shit!" Unfortunately by the time this inner tirade was over my feet had carried me home. I spent the rest of the afternoon shitting bricks. The only thing that stopped me calling and cancelling was the fact that they had given me e tshirt which said BBDC Dive Team on it, and I didn't want to give it back. Luckily though my sleepless night was unnecessary. I rocked up the next morning sick with nerves and did all the preliminary stuff. As I sat down to give my dive brief (always a challenge that is; briefing a dive you've never done before!) I was told the Lifeguards had closed the pass to the islands due to high winds which our little boat wouldn't be able to handle so all diving was off. I tried very hard to look disappointed. I felt like that had been too close a call so after that I ignored all the calls from the Dive Shop. I still have the tshirt though as technically I did work for them for all of an hour!

As such I now didn't have anything to do with my time except sit by the phone and wait to be offered my dream job (no, I'm not really sure what that is either!) so I signed up for the 3 day surf course. The instructors were great fun (Reese especially) but despite their best efforts I just don't think that the English should surf. After what seemed like hours being battered by the waves I waded into the shallows and quietly stressed out at my inability. By day two it quickly became clear that I was the dunce of the class so I quit,. To be honest I had already quit mentally, about 15 minutes into day one but like I always say 'If at first you don't succeed....then give the fuck up Princess because it clearly isn't going to happen!' As I walked away from the office I felt a huge wave of inadequacy engulf me so I bought a box of goon and some toblerone and went to the beach for a good cry. For some reason this didn't make me feel better. As I weaved slowly home I started to feel like the World's Biggest Fool. I had been so sure that Byron was going to be the place for me. I thought I had been trusting my instincts in a super savvy way but I think I had just seen signs that weren't really there. Or I had made them up. The next time I think I'm having a gut feeling I am going to punch myself in the stomach! Ultimately I think Byron Bay is for happy people only.

Deciding on a drunken whim that I couldn't stay a second longer I stumbled into a travel agents and asked where the next bus was headed. "Well you've missed them all now," the disgruntled agent snapped, "it's nearly 7pm and I'm closing soon anyway." "Perfect," I countered, "this wont take long." And I gracelessly collapsed into a chair.

"Now where's the first bus going in the morning?"

"Brisbane."

Pause. "No, not Brisbane I think. Next one?"

"Darwin."

"Darwin?! Are you mad? It's monsoon up there at the moment. Next?"

"Adelaide."

Pause. 'What's in Adelaide?"

"Nothing."

"Well then. Next?"

"Ballina."

"But that's only an hour away and the only thing they have there is a giant prawn on top of a restaurant!!"

"One after that is Melbourne."

Pause. Longer pause. Thinking out loud I said, mostly to myself, "I had a very pretty dress last time I was in Melbourne."

Of course, my Melbourne Cup exploits were unknown to the poor lady who clearly thought she was dealing with a crazy of the highest order. "You want to go there then?" Nodding, I realised then that I should probably be locked up when drunk and depressed.

"You know, if you get the night buses you'll save about $100. They go to all the small towns along the coast and there's a 9 hour stopover in Sydney but it's worth it for the price."

"Sydney? Perfect! I have a friend in Sydney who will be delighted to see me!"

I'm not sure if delighted is quite how Craig would've described it when I called him at 6am on Sunday morning and demanded he take me to breakfast when he had finished at work but he did a fairly good job of being pleased to see me. We abused the Holiday Inn's All You Can Eat for $20. Now that's quite a lot of money for breakfast but as I didn't know when I was next eating I crammed in as much fruit, cereal, pastries, hash browns, tea and orange juice that I could carry....and then some....and then took some muffins for later. While I was on the internet  I started doing some more job hunting for Melbourne and came across an ad for 'Backpackers Wanted' for a Promotions Agency. Having no clue what the job entailed I sent my CV off anyway. Surprisingly, given it was a Sunday, I got a call back an hour later asking me for an interview tomorrow morning - 2 hours after my bus was due to arrive. I agreed and then frantically scrabbled through my backpack trying to find some suitable work clothes that weren't too wrinkled.

When I arrived in Melbourne the next morning, I did a double quick shower and change at the hostel and high tailed it across the city. This is when I discovered that the entire world had come to Melbourne for the Australian Open - an event which I knew nothing about having no interest in tennis whatsoever. Trying to battle my way past the grounds on my way to Richmond, sweating and swearing like a trouper, I realised I hadn't bought a tram ticket and spent the rest of the journey trying to make myself as small as possible in case an inspector came round. I got to the offices with seconds to spare. The interview was bog standard but when I left I realised I still had no idea what the job entailed, despite having an 'Observation Day' on Wednesday. I figured it would be telesales at the very worst.

Whilst waiting for Wednesday to roll around, I discovered that finding a house was a lot harder than I had anticipated and the hostel wouldn't let me extend my stay longer than four nights. This was beginning to stress me out by the time I went back to Storm for my second day and it didn't help that the job turned out to be even worse than telesales....doorstepping! I spent the day with Dan being hounded off people's property and having doors slammed in my face. Strangely enough, Dan seems to love his job. I turned it down at the first opportunity and accepted a post at a clothes store in town. Mind numbing work but hopefully it'll pay the bills. In the course of the day Dan found out that I was soon to be homeless and offered up his couch for a few nights. I was quick to oblige, mostly becaue I didn't have another choice and also because Dan is just so damn cute! I am hoping to work my wiley charms on him (especially as he won't be my boss now) just as soon as I can figure out if he is with some chick called Whitney who keeps hanging around. She is not competition though. She has stringey hair and bad skin and a donkey laugh.

So watch this space. Luckily I am going through one of my 'coping' phases, where shit things seem to happen and it doesn't bother me. Dan has said I can crash as long as I need and I have a trail shift at the store tomorrow so as long as I get a house things should be fine by next week. Everyone is telling me not to come home so I guess I have to stay here until May at least and I am so looking forward to being settled in somewhere. I hope it doesn't take long because these 'coping' phases don't usually last!!!