Monkeyrockworld

Wherever you go in Australia and you hear talking about pot, this name always comes up. Nimbin. Which is actually a little village nestled in the far north eastern angle of NSW, just a few kilometres away from Byron Bay and the Queensland border. It’s a little marijuana living museum and pro legalisation centre with the great added charm of a shining countryside all around it. We decided to drive up there after a couple days climbing in the Blue Mountains, driving up the Hunter Valley and the New England region to escape the coast for a while, and savour the inland more, those rolling hills and flat landscapes that are a real pleasure to drive through.We drove all day and pulled into Nimbin around 7 pm, pitch black around us in a quite pleasant aussie autumn night breeze. The town is a main street with a few joints, cafes, the Nimbin museum and the Hemp Embassy, and everything was closed, except for a couple restaurants. It was like someone switched off the tourist lights on a saturday night, and the city was more populated by a bunch of locals, some of them of the scruffy hippie type. In zero time a young guy sitting on a bench next to our carpark approached us and with a very friendly manner started a conversation, and invited us to eat for free off the street. This was quite unexpected, but we just bumped into a “Saturday Night Caring is Giving” session: some volunteers were offering food like bread, buns, boiled eggs, soup, vegetable salad and much more to anyone passing by on the street, and when I asked them if I could get some, the answer was a big smile and the usual, warm “Yeah Mate, no worries”.

Munching on bread and butter, I gave a closer look around and I started to understand the colours and the vibe of Nimbin, although it was more of a goodnight world one. Its a place where someone can easily get lost strolling by, enjoying the sunday crafts market (where you will be able to eat some Mexican, and even Thai food…), chasing the smell of burnt cigarette paper around some famous leaves, trying to see where they’ll bring you. But beware, because smoking here is illegal as much as in any other part of the state. I’m sure you would easily forget that in the same moment your foot step on Nimbin’s soil. Its one way main drag is the centre of a lost world where a bunch of definitely strange people live their lives, feeding off the tourist with some brilliant pot.

It was definitely ok to stroll for a few hours in the morning, but at night, I think I got to see a prett bogan side of Nimbin many of you would not expect if you just turn up there in the daylight: the locals are friendly, for sure, but boganism is imperant around here, even too much. We were parked in front of a caravan park relaxing in the van, while two bald young heads peeked in and the first thing they could say was how gay it is to sleep in that space with 2 other guys.

They then left without too much fuss, but when we got chased away from the carpark guardian and had to drive on the street at night twice looking for a place to park, one of these bastards threw an empty beer bottle towards our van. A great example of how I dislike these dirty idiotic shallow empty headed australians.  You might have 21 years old, but next time I’d like to stick that bottle up somewhere you are too macho and proud to admit you’d like it. Cunts.

So all in all, please stop in Nimbin if you want to check out desperation taken to a further level of weel being and peaceful existence, as a hippie community might be if it really existed in this world, but take care of the bogans out there.