Maiden Voyage: Don't rock the boat!

Love for your children is like nothing else In the world. The feeling is quite simply, not describable in words. The thing that always surprises me is that the strength of your feelings never vary, falter or change - It's the one and only constant in life.

It's 7am and I'm waiting in the hostel reception for Owen to arrive. I've spoken to him every couple of days whilst away but it's not the same. I've missed him terribly. He catches me off guard and unexpectedly bursts through the door with a beaming excitable smile (his braces removed after two years), a couple of inches taller than I left him but still as just as handsome. He's my boy. In this very moment nothing else in the world matters....I'm emotional but complete.

The Big Reunion....after 24hours flying, a very tired boy!

It's difficult to accept my solo journey of discovery has come to an end. I can feel my personal self slipping away as the transformation begins from 'solo traveller extodanier' back to mum, protector, organiser and financier! It takes a little while for me to adjust from being one to two again but this leg of the trip is all about Owen. The east coast of Australia is primarily focused around the young backpacker and with Owens desire to travel at the end of University, I'm hoping this experience will enable him to understand how to manage yourself on a shoestring budget....and our budgets already seriously creaking!

Our East Coast Roadtrip Route

In the days that follow Owen proves to be a wonderful little travel companion. It's evident his first year away from home has domesticated him and he has a more independent outlook on life....he has very little expectation. He fully accepts the budget constraints and offers solutions to food resources and recipes un-phased by the very basic hostel facilities. He assists in navigation around the city and is clear and very 'together' about it all and in what he would like to do. His one gripe is photos, he's not shaken his dislike of pictures of himself which makes me sad and I'm hoping I can break this barrier down! We head off out to pick up a skateboard deck (he brought his trucks and wheels along) and he's then off almost immediately to find the local skate facilities in Sydney. I go to watch him and it gives me flash backs of the young boy growing up I used to watch for many an hour.

Sydney is a bustling City and we have a couple of days chilling (allowing Owens jet lag to settle), exploring the harbour and famous landmarks before heading up the coast. Owen loves the city, still caught up in the 'newness' of the road trip but I'm not so keen, there's nothing 'wowing' me here and I'm quickly ready to move on (we return to Sydney for a week at the end of the trip to explore the wider field...Bondi Beach, Manly etc,)

Sydney Harbour Bridge & a forced smile!

It's our last night here and on our return from the Sydney harbour bridge we pass a lively bar, it's around 6pm. We walk into what can only be described as carnage. Everyone (with the exception of the bar staff) were steaming drunk - no exceptions. There are eyes everywhere... everywhere except where they were directed. There's a solo guitarist entertaining the crowd who are dancing and revelling in the unnatural atmosphere. We perch ourselves at the bar thoroughly entertained by what would be a perfect comedy sketch! As the next four hours pass we steadily work our way into a similar stupor, fully conversing and integrating with locals ....and schooners! By 9.30pm my number is up, the lightweight is finished and I return to the hostel ......with Owen returning around 2am after meeting solo travellers in the hostel bar!

Next morning we have to check out by 10am. We are homeless until 2pm the following day (28 hours time) as we're catching an overnight coach to Byron Bay our next destination. It's 9.40am and I cannot pull myself together. I'm nauseous and sweating, I can't do vertical. By 9.50am it escalates into forced action....I have to run down the corridor, bursting (practically taking the door with me) into the busy communal WC block to embarrassingly projectile vomit ...literally everything consumed in the past 24 hours makes an appearance. I return, pale, panting, dishevelled and feeling very sorry for myself. Owen bursts into laughter at the state before him, his cracked red eyes however indicate all may not be as perfect as it seems under his surface! It's a disaster but we somehow manage to pack and check out. We're in a mess and the next 24 hours were punishing.....I only had 4 schooners (which are about 3/4 of a pint) but ughhh never ever again!

After a long uncomfortable night travelling we arrive at the hostel at 6.30am - it's closed and it's still dark. We sit on our bags awaiting the sleepy town of Byron Bay to bounce into life. As it begins to wake the rising sun, barefoot surfer dudes, street guitarists, fortune tellers and hippy shops amalgamate into a happy Cornish but Americanised seaside town. It has a wonderful feel to it, it's so calming and I'm much happier here. We take a walk to the famous lighthouse and did an ocean kayak trip which ended with me hilariously capsizing our dual kayak as it snagged in a incoming wave. We squelched home laughing with Owen firmly placing blame for the very public humiliation in my camp!

Homeless!!

Byron Bay lighthouse walk

Not a great look...Pre-capsize!

All going well...

The Ending

....we're under there somewhere!

We've upped our pace now and begin a run of fast moving arriving firstly in Surfers Paradise / Gold Coast. Neither of us are greatly impressed, the contrast from Byron Bay is stark. Whilst the beach is deserving of its name, the main strip is tacky - it feels like Florida with a sprinkling of Benidorm on top. There are many locals holidaying, it's 'common' with people sporting vulgar tshirts and distasteful tattoos. It wasn't helped that our only day there being dampened by rain. The atmosphere improved at night but not greatly, the cheapness of the strip was merely dulled by vibrant lighting. Owen also had his first 'taster' of a bad hostel. It was grim....the room was like a prison cell, the sheets weren't clean and an eyelash on the plates in the filthy kitchen left us pining home comforts....it was bad. We only had to endure one night but we struggled even with that.

'Viva festival' was on.....says it all really!

Next up Brisbane ...again just a one nighter to make a connection. It's another city, but I like it much better than drab Sydney. It has a contemporary vibe, a futuristic infrastructure with access across the river via a myriad of bridges. We visit the South Bank (trendy area), a French festival enjoying a drink by the river during happy hour. Our YHA hostel is the best so far, central, a roof top pool and dining area with stunning views across the city is the icing on the cake.

Brisbane YHA Hostel

Street Art

South Bank

Brisbane Central

The cost of living in Australia is unbelievably high and frustratingly it's not value for money, there are much nicer places I've seen for a fraction of the cost. You cannot get decent hostel accommodation for under £60 per night (that's just a very basic room with shared welfare facilities) A pint of lager is a minimum of £7 making it almost impossible to have a 'care free' evening on the town. To ensure we can do some nice activities we are literally on rations. The day begins with a supermarket bought croissant and sachet coffee, with hostel cooked pasta or soup to keep us on track....it's really tough. I've lived like this through New Zealand and Australia now and as time goes on you find yourself pining just a few treats, Owen is too polite to say and understands why it's like this but he's struggling with the monotony of the diet. This is not a whinge, we're both very grateful for the experience but we need to remember the tough times as well as the greatness. It's definitely not glamorous but I'm determined to ensure we get the most out of this trip whilst demonstrating the sacrifices you have to make along the way.