OZ

So I was sitting on a bench in Auckland waiting for a bus to take me to the beach. It was raining. And windy. And cold. And right then and there I decided to go to Australia. So I went and booked myself on the next flight out, and 15 hours later I was on my way.

Since landing in Brisbane, I hopped the first train south and skipped the city all together, tired of Auckland as I was. Three rides later and I was in Bryon Bay. Now this is a strange little place, a beatiful beachside town with good beaches, good surf, and good weather. And the highest concentration of beatiful people I've ever seen in my life. Seriously, 9 out of every 10 people I pass on the street or beach could be models in magazines or on tv. Creepy.

Now I have spent most of my life, and especially these last 5 months, in places where folks are strong and rugged and capable, occasionally handsome, but seldom beatiful. To be surrounded by this freakshow is unnerving, and naturally my first instinct was to flee, head down the road or into the bush. But I checked my instict and decided to see what happens in such a novel setting. Purely for the sake of exploration, or course.

Now my results, preliminary as they are: beatiful seems to be expensive, or at least living amongst the beatiful is. Everything from food or activites to accomodation is aq bit pricey. Also, the beatiful don't seem to do much else besides being beatiful. I've gone surfing, hiking, and taken a digeridoo lesson, as well as the requisite laying on the beach, and there seems to be an inverse relationship between activity and the number of glamorus people.

Anyway, I've about had it with this scene and all its' scenery, I reckon tommorrow I'll head south and find a small town I can camp outside the city limits and look at beatiful scenery (which only gets better the more you associate with it) as opposed to glamorus people (which tend to do the opposite).