We slip off the windily pacific highway just before the infamous Byron Bay onto open country road sweeping through an epic valley, encapsulated by high ridges and vast, stretching farmland toward the country town of Nimbin.
Nimbin was the home of the 1973 'Aquarius' festival and by looks of things most of the festival goers never made it home, the town certainly retained the festival vibe, I think I was propositioned to buy drugs on the street less in Amsterdam!
Like Amsterdam or Glastonbury or any other place that has made a name for its self as 'a bit hippy', there is a great paradox at play in Nimbin. Hippy yes in terms of it's liberal look (or look away) on cannabis smoking (signs in outdoor areas of cafes don't read *No Smoking* but rather *No Bongs*, I guess they're only permitted in doors. But the centre is enough to make anyone not stoned out of their dreadlocks feel rather trapped, rather quickly. Trapped by an image of a lifestyle, the essence of which I know exists within Nimbin somewhere but it's not here, I suspect it's not incense, Bob Marley, semi precious stones, crystals, home made tinctures, chakra juice, rainbows or anything else that can be bought or sold.
Heading out early one morning we manage to catch a little real Nimbin, a local farmers market, less farmers as you might expect and more hobbyists, the locals of the town congregating as they do once a week to pick up groceries, share stories and above all show off their 'home-growns'. Here you got a sense of perhaps what it is to be a Nimbinian, a colourful array of chirpy characters young and old, a little crazy and slightly removed looking yes, but maybe removed is, in some respects just what they’re after here, a place that is a little more accepting of qwerks, a place where community, family and living happily and healthily seem top priority. Perhaps in a backwards kind of way, to sustain that lifestyle here, the Nimbin folk are reliant on the business that the tourisitc centre brings and after considering the Nimbin lifestyle aside from this, just whom exactly is crazy here anyway?
Heading out early one morning we manage to catch a little real Nimbin, a local farmers market, less farmers as you might expect and more hobbyists, the locals of the town congregating as they do once a week to pick up groceries, share stories and above all show off their 'home-growns'. Here you got a sense of perhaps what it is to be a Nimbinian, a colourful array of chirpy characters young and old, a little crazy and slightly removed looking yes, but maybe removed is, in some respects just what they’re after here, a place that is a little more accepting of qwerks, a place where community, family and living happily and healthily seem top priority. Perhaps in a backwards kind of way, to sustain that lifestyle here, the Nimbin folk are reliant on the business that the tourisitc centre brings and after considering the Nimbin lifestyle aside from this, just whom exactly is crazy here anyway?
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