It was when I arrived at Newcastle that I realised I'd lost my phone! D'oh! Fortunately some Saint had handed it in, and it would eventually find its way to me.
Newcastle, like its British namesake, is very industry based, and so loads of Ozzies I met advised me against it! It was quite a dead town, unfortunately, with most places shutting at 4pm daily, leaving the centre of the city dead apart from a few punks skateboarding.
I went for a wander the day after I arrived, on a massive beach which culminated in a huge lighthouse on a headland. Apparently there was a body boarding competition going on, which wasn't very good, because there were decent waves. The weather was still overcast and spitting intermittently, the wind making the seas choppier than a knife factory. Some brave fishermen were enduring the elements on some rocks that were frequently covered by water and spray, being backed by 2 pelicans that thought there was some dinner at stake.
After doing a little bit of rock pooling, I walked out to the sea wall via the large beach, where I discovered that stepping on dead jellyfish is not only safe (dead stingers), but similarly satisfying as popping bubble wrap! Pop!
After playing a game of Kings with some beefy, over wired Canadians and thoroughly impressing them with my capacity for cheap wine, we went to the only club in town, and I didn't spend a single Cent!! Brilliant, all I'd bought was a $5 Clean-skins bottle of wine at the hostel!
I got bored of that so I started wandering the town. 2 minutes out of the centre, and I didn't pass a single soul in 10 minutes. Its quite cool, being on your own, in decent-ish weather (not rain at least) and just wandering where you want to wander! I suggest that everyone does it sometime.
I'd arranged to meet up with an old School friend of Mum's Paula, the following day. Dutifully, mother nature was providing steady, soaking drizzle; the sort that makes you blink. Paula rolled up with her husband, Alf, in their 4x4 and we went on a little journey, showing me the areas around Newcastle. Taking me to my first ever winery for a tasting and then to Port Stephens where the rain had let off, leaving us high humidity on the climb to the a brilliant lookout.
Port Stephens is a tiny little town set in a sheltered bay. The surrounding geography is just like that in the TV series, 'Lost' - peaked temperate rainforests rolling steeply down to a huge crescent moon beach that extends for miles. I never got to go on any of the beaches, but they looked deserted enough to go skinny dipping safely!
After some proper fish n chips, we went back to their house for a cup of tea, where I was fascinated to hear about Alf's exotic array of pets as a kid - monkeys, snakes, spiders, chimps and more.
The following day I embarked on the least busy day tour I've ever been on. With only one other person on it and then the mullet-ridden bus driver ("call me Russ, mate, my real name's David, but thats another story"!), I thought the day could be a drag. Fortunately it turned out to be good fun and educational - visiting about 6 different wineries and trying to taste most of their wines, red, white and other, my mind was both stimulated and abused by the volume of alcohol consumed. I was drinking it slowly enough to stay sort of sober, but I started to get that heavy, tired feeling after our lunch. A word of warning! Never try a chilli liquor! Nearly sipping it, as we'd done with all other wines and liquors, we (me and Sam the American chick) were hastily told by our dealer to do it as a shot. Instantly I thought 'Oo, thats a little warm'! Then it started getting going, making my mouth see why it was called "Dragon's Breath".
Chasing with a white chocolate liquor (mmm, tasty) didn't really help, and my stomach was asking what the hell was going on, so we went for some sub-par chicken and chips for luncheon.
What I brought away from the tour was that I enjoy lighter red wines, as well as bubbly reds. I hate Chardonnay, and Port can be good! Just drink it within a week or something.
After watching Toy Story with some Brits I'd end up meeting again randomly in Byron Bay and discussing how old we felt now since they released the 10th anniversary edition of the film, I went to bed (top bunk, no ladder), and slept like a baby, my liver pickling up nicely.
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