My plan for the first of those two days was to rendezvous with a German girl named Carmen I had met in Queensland several weeks ago and walk to the lighthouse. However, my plans changed on the eve of my arrival, when I received a message from Carmen that bore the following question:
Do you want to try to hitchhike to Bangalow to see the billycart races?
There is only one answer to a question like that - yes! Yes, I did want to try to hitchhike to Bangalow to see the billycart races. So the next day we were standing on the road out of Byron with thumbs outstretched, eager to discover what exactly a billycart was and how they would be raced. After around 5 minutes an elderly driver pulled over, but unfortunately he wasn't going to Bangalow. 15 minutes of patient waiting later we were beginning to lose hope when a vintage car stopped and the driver offered to take us up to the Bangalow turnoff. Very grateful for the ride, but still with some distance to go, we walked to the roadside and prepared for a long wait. So it was much to our amazement and delight when the very first car that went by picked us up! We were going to the billy cart races!
Bangalow is a town of around 2,000 people, located 8 miles inland from Byron Bay. It's a charming little place - the high street containing numerous cafes and independent retailers, then above the shops the apartments sported balconies overlooking the street. However, the feature of the high street being exploited on Sunday was its gradient. A decent slope but not too steep, it is perfect for billycart racing and a sizable crowd had lined the street for the event, which was called the Bangalow BillyCart Derby. A billycart, it transpired, is a homemade go-cart powered only by gravity. The entries ranged from very simple chair-on-plank-on-wheels vehicles to slick designs that looked like they may be using materials used by NASA. Some carts had three wheels, others four. Some had pram wheels, others bicycle weeks, others shopping trolley wheels. Helmets had to be worn and even these varied greatly, heads resting beneath antiquated bicycle helmets lining up alongside eyes burrowed inside large motorcycle headgear. Four carts raced down the road at once, with the winner of each heat progressing to the next round. It goes without saying that the Bangalow BillyCart Derby was a lot of fun.
Before the afternoon heats began there was a parade that featured a hotchpotch of participants, including a Scottish band, vintage cars, stilt walkers, and dancing Indians who were possibly there in acknowledgment of the Bangalow-Bangalore name similarity, but I really have no idea. Once the excitable crowd had been pushed back a safe distance from the road, the races could begin. First down the slope was Bangalow Bill, the oldest competitor in the derby at 88, and it was his birthday! So the octogenarian was afforded a solo cart ride with the entire crowd singing 'Happy Birthday' as he slowly rolled to the bottom. Next up were the mothers races, which were won by a streamlined looking cart that resembled a bob-sled with pram wheels. After that came the main event, which featured carts of a huge variety of speeds - some needing to slam on the breaks to avoid slamming into the hay bails at the end and others going so slowly that the driver resorted to pushing the ground with their hand in a futile effort to speed up. Occasionally, a driver would make their cart swerve all over the road, drawing loud, collective gasps from the crowd that befitted far more dangerous and high velocity racing. Once, a swerving 'daredevil' collided with another cart sending both vehicles crashing into the side hay bails - an incident that I imagine will be enthusiastically talked about at every Bangalow BillyCart Derby for at least the next ten years.
By about 2.30pm we had seen enough of the Derby, meaning that there was still time to walk to the lighthouse for the sunset, providing we could catch a lift back to Byron. Again, there was no wait as we were picked up by a hippyish New Zealand-Brazilian couple who now lived in the area. They were very friendly and as we approached Byron the guy pointed out a green and white caravan stationed randomly in the corner of a field where a football game was taking place.
"I used to live in that" the driver commented.
"Actually, that was where I was living when we met" he added, grinning as he looked across at his partner.
The walk to the lighthouse and subsequent view and sunset were brilliant, so good in fact I did the same route the next day after body boarding in the morning. Byron Bay really warrants its popularity. From the lighthouse we could see for miles, over the beach and
across the whole bay to the silhouetted mountains overlapping into the distance. It's not just the scenery and favourable waves that make Byron great - it's just such an easy-going place and the feel good factor is through the roof. Like myself, Carmen is also approaching the end of her trip, so looking out over the magnificent vista we chatted about our respective journeys and reflected on our upcoming return to real life. Although it will be nice to be back home, adventures like the one we had just had will be greatly missed.
***
It was obvious before we had even reached a bar that Monday nights aren't the biggest in Byron. First, a promoter from a Woody's Bar did a lap of the hostel shortly before everyone vacated the outdoor seating area, marking wrists with stamps that drew the bearer to Woody's with the promise of a free drink. Then, while en route Woody's we were intercepted by a minibus painted with the logo of Cheeky Monkeys, a rival bar. A girl poked her head out the window and tried to persuade us to hop in and go to her bar. We wanted to cash in on our free drink at Woody's, so we weren't being swayed. The driver chirped in with "Cheeky Monkeys is the busiest club is town" in one final effort to lure us in. Even if it is the busiest club in town, I thought to myself, it can't be that busy if you're having to drive around trying to pick up customers off the street! I had never seen anything like it and chuckled as I imagined a bar operating a similar service in Chicago or London. After a brief but fun visit to Woody's we strolled over to Cheeky Monkeys, a tiny distance that we somehow managed without minibus transport. Inside, a peckish Ali was delighted to discover that free chips were laid out on the bar. A nice gesture it seemed, but the chips were saltier than the ocean, so salty that they left you gagging for a drink...cheeky indeed.
There's a nicely edited video on YouTube of the Bangalow Billy Cart Derby 2014 - you on it?
ReplyDeletehttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RukxVNr1Yig
Interesting and entertaining as ever, Ali. Who else would walk out to a lighthouse facing east to watch the sunset? What was the sunrise like?
ReplyDeleteYour hitchhiking tale reminded me of some of mine in Africa. On one long trip I was picked up by three Polish missionaries who spoke of "Christians" meaning only Roman Catholics; I didn't tell them I was a Protestant missionary. They got me through a road-block where I might otherwise have had a problem.On another lift the driver threw me out (well, not literally) when I wouldn't pay him - he asked for more than the bus fare! I met a couple who stood for 12 hours in the sun at Livingstone before they had a lift - and the journey to Lusaka is about 350 miles! There used to be a lot of hitchhiking in the UK but it seems very rare now - unless you are waving a petrol can in hand.