I just can't get enough of Byron Bay and its hippie vibe. Last Friday was Anzac Day - the national day of remembrance for Australia's war veterans - which means another long weekend. I headed down to Byron with a few mates on a camping trip. On Friday morning, Casey, Caleb, Suchy, Nate and I loaded up two cars full of camping gear and drove two hours - making a quick stop at Queensland's famous Yatala pie shop for lunch - in the back of Caleb's jeep, wind beating me up the whole way down the coast. We set up camp at Belongil Fields, a campsite just outside of town. After we set up our three-room tent and gazebo, the boys took naps outside on the air mattresses, and Casey and I strolled into town to hang on the beach. On Saturday night, Scotty, Katie, Nenad and Katrina joined us at Belongil Fields.

The weekend consisted of really chill days, napping in the grass, tossing the footy, swimming in the ocean, and eating so many falafel pockets from a mediterranean restaurant called Orgasmic. Our nights were spent attempting to build a fire to sit around while we drank, listened to Nate sing and play his guitar amidst the bumping music from our camping neighbors' car stereos, and waited until it was late enough to hit some of the bars in town. I kept forgetting that even though there's still beautiful beach weather, it's currently mid-autumn in Australia, so the sun goes down early, and we found ourselves in darkness surrounded by a sky full of stars by 6pm. Unfortunately, it rained - or misted really hard - every night, so finding dry wood was close to impossible. Even when we found some, it was hilarious watching the boys try to chop it up with an ax we borrowed from the neighbors. In the end, we threw a huge "log" (maybe you could call it a tree trunk) on the "fire" and sat around roasting marshmallows through the smoke. The nights were pretty fun - we went to Woody's and Cheeky Monkeys, two of the only bars in town where we could drink spiked slushies and dance on tables.

Casey, Scotty and me at the campsite

There was a moment over the weekend when I was walking through town with Casey, back to the beach from Orgasmic with our falafel pockets. Bare feet, salty skin, beach hair tied up in knots. Every single person we passed was beautiful. Street musicians were on every corner. The smell of incense escaped every other shop. We made it to the top of the street and there was a giant psychedelic sign that said "Come Play" with hula hoops and unicycles under it. Just past that was the blue water lined with surfers and white sand that squeaks when you walk. And it was then that I realized, I might not be able to not live in Australia.