Yamba Time

Funny anecdote: I made a reservation in Brisbane YHA for Coffs Harbour YHA and paid in advance as they requested. Then, the day after, I left for Coffs with the bus (six to seven hours or more) and the “friendly” staff came and picked me up at the bus station. Then, at the reception desk, I had the extreme pleasure to make acquaintance with that lovely young man of German descent (as long as the sweet young woman who came to pick me up) who probably was the manager. So, anyway, after a few exchange of pleasantries he kindly told me to get the hell out of his property ‘cause he couldn’t find my name on his list of guests. And of course the hostel was fully booked (or not) but they kindly rushed me towards the door and invited me to take my suitcase and my laptop and the rest of my gear and go to sleep somewhere else, maybe in the gutter where they probably think people of dark complexion, especially Italian, belong. At that point, yours truly was slightly embarrassed and tried to explain his position pointing out that at least they had to do something about the money I paid for my accommodation. Clearly and annoyed, the fair haired prince sighed, rolled up his sapphire eyes and conceded me a phone call. Oh, I forgot to say that as soon as he knew where I made my reservation he disappeared behind the reception desk and made a secret phone call to the guys at Brisbane telling them they had a guest they couldn’t possibly fit in even if he had paid for it and they both decided to make up a really nice story. Listen to this: he came out and told me with a smirk, “I’m sorry, you made a reservation for Brisbane YHA, pal. Go there, maybe if you take the last bus you can be there tomorrow morning and you lose only one night’s sleep.” It practically sounds like, “You don’t know how to live, so you make a reservation in Brisbane for Brisbane and then you go to Coffs Harbour and ask for a reservation in Coffs Harbour. Now, get the f---k out of my sight you little s---t before I lay my angry fair haired arms on you, you filthy cockroach. Get out of my property before I call the police and I have you behind bars where dark people like you belong.” And so, the good-hearted Adonis managed to get rid of the trash without getting involved in any trouble, even if he fucked up big time. The roach asked meekly a new reservation in the closest YHA (Yamba, some 200 km north, beautiful place by the way) and a booking on the greyhound bus. Only, the fair prince forgot to print out a receipt of the ticket, so the ill-fated cockroach had his troubles to convince the bus driver he had a last-minute reservation. He was almost mercilessly left with his gear at the bloody station. Luckily he managed to reach a heaven unknown from the swarming crowd. So, in conclusion, if you don’t know where to sleep between Brisbane and Sydney and you don’t like to be overcharged and you hate overcrowded overrated places, go to Yamba YHA (between Ballina and Grafton) where the friendly without quotes staff will pamper you and the amount of unspoilt white-sanded beaches is mind-numbing and you will find something different to do every day even if you stay a couple of weeks. The hostel is brand-new and looks more like a four-star hotel. I have been there for a week and I had the time of my life. Well, I guess that’s all folks. Remember: Yamba YHA. Bye-bye.

Boy! Cloudio .....Thanks for your life story. Hope you are feeling better now. :-)