28 July 2012 - Lismore Lake Holiday Park, Northern Rivers, NSW

No doubt we were just two of many billion who watched the opening of the 2012 Olympic Games on television this morning. It seems that having no access to pay-tv will be no disadvantage after all. Of course for us here in Australia on the east coast, it was nearly 10 am by the time everything wound up, so our day’s adventures started no earlier than normal despite an early waking.

I wanted to go to Nimbin and had wanted to do so since I first heard about it last year when we spent time with my older son’s father. Clarry told us all about this oddball place where hippies hung about smoking dope and police turned a blind eye. There were many more amazing descriptions of the place, many sifting through over the intervening months from travellers met on the road and so with us here in Lismore, just thirty kilometres away, the opportunity presented itself.

Nimbin is called many things; amongst the many, the drug capital of Australia and today as we wandered about the busy or rather, crowded streets, I just about got high on second hand cannabis smoke. Locals were sitting about dragging on their joints, not at all discreet, however we had been warned we were likely to be approached by sellers; we were not. Do I sound disappointed? Perhaps a little, however I would have graciously declined any such offer.

Nimbin Roacks

We travelled up to Nimbin following the Goolmangar Creek, through such a pretty valley, passing the Nimbin Rocks, a series of jagged outcrops, solidified plugs left after the erosion of volcanic dykes and vents. This sacred site has restricted access however we stopped by the roadside just south of the village to admire these towering natural structures.

At the risk of repetition, it was the red cedar that drew the first non-aboriginals into the area in the 1840s. In 1903, with the forests all gone, the land about was subdivided for dairying and banana growing, then in the 1960s, the local dairy industry collapsed due to the recession and Nimbin went into serious economic decline.

In 1973, the Aquarius Festival was held in the village bringing mainly university students from Canberra, among the mix of hippies and party folk. This festival was the first event in Australia that sought permission for the use of the land from the traditional owners. After the festival, hundreds stayed on to live the dream and ideology of Aquarius and to sow the seeds of today’s vibrant and sustainable, if not slightly druggy, culture. Writers, artists, musicians, actors, environmentalists and permaculture enthusiasts followed.

In 1979, the Nimbin community staged the Battle for Terania Creek to protect remaining local rainforest. This and subsequent protest action led to the change in government logging policies and the establishment of the Nightcap National Park.

Before the bottom fell out of the dairy industry, Nimbin had a population of just over six thousand, in 2006 the population was 352, however that latter figure does not include the many Multiple Occupancy rural properties, the hippy communes of which there are many all about. Another analysis of that same 2006 census suggests that Nimbin serviced a further ten thousand,  living within fifteen kilometres of the village centre. Needless to say the unemployment rate was high, up about 18% and by now surely worse.

Sights in Nimbin

Despite the fact that cultivation, selling and possession of cannabis is illegal in New South Wales, all three activities are an everyday part of the culture, celebrated even more in the annual Mardi Gras where events such as the Prohibition Protest Rally, Parade with the Ganja Faeries, the Nimbin Cannibis Cup, the Hemp Olympix featuring joint rolling and bong “Throw’n Yell” add to the fun and frivolity.

We called into the Hemp Embassy where you can learn that the drug is quite harmless, in fact hemp itself is a wonder commodity in so many ways. Here you can buy hemp products of all kinds, including stash tins, but not, alas, cannabis itself. That is left to the locals wandering about with their own home-grown attempting to supplement their dole money.

Next door to the Embassy, one can buy hemp smoothies and hemp burgers; the mind boggles. I am sure that the many other cafes offer similar delicacies.

Apparently police intervention has fluctuated over the years, swinging from full scale raids as in 2008 when 110 officers equipped with bulletproof vests, horses and dogs descended upon the village, to simply remaining absent. I guess that these funny folk of Nimbin are not really doing any harm although I do wonder about the children being raised in this culture.

We found ourselves in an old building packed full of books and other second hand bric-a-brac, watched over by a woman of about our age, sitting in a dark corner combing her long grey locks.  She came for the festival all those years ago, and bought into one of these multiple occupancy properties, previously a 730 hectare dairy farm, at Tuntable Falls. We understand that the shares cost about $200 at the time, and today she might sell out for what someone might consider her still unfinished house to be worth. The occupants consider that the land is owned by the aborigines and that they are mere custodians, owning only their own few sticks of timber they call home. Over the years the community established a primary and pre-school, a grocery store, a hall and a derelict building in Nimbin which houses a cafe but no real wealth in the way we on the outside would measure it by. As she continued to comb her hair, this woman lamented the cost of contributing to the Mardi Gras, the 40^th Anniversary of Nimbin’s Aquarian life next year, the cost of finishing her verandah, of upgrading her power source, and confessed that she, as most there, were deep in a poverty trap. And the very sad fact is that those who came at the beginning were most likely some of the brightest stars of the future and they messed their lives up all by themselves. And who picks up the bill for all this? The Australian taxpayer, of course.

Walking up to Protester Falls

However for all that, we would encourage travellers to make the journey to this very colourful village, full of wonderful wares for sale, including beautiful bright clothing from Nicaragua and India, jewellery and pottery, and all manner of other giftware and crafts. And it feels so genuine, as if you have truly stepped back into an alternate space in the 1970s. The buildings alone are a sight to behold, all painted if worn with bright cheerful murals and psychedelic colours.

We drove on to The Channon, another village nineteen kilometres south after climbing east and over the ridge from Nimbin. This village is very small, with a general store, a tavern and very little else, however manages to host a monthly 250 stall market which draws ten thousand people from the region. This astounded us because we were unable to find even a picnic table or proper public area where we could enjoy our picnic. We took advantage of the one grassed spot in front of the store then headed north again, a further nineteen kilometres winding up the Terania Creek valley into the Nightcap National Park, along the narrow muddy road. Here we parked and walked up the creek to the Protester Falls, just 1.4 kilometres from the car park. The track passes through a forest of bangalow palms with just a few buttress rooted towering trees; an absolutely beautiful walk up past the cascading creek and finally arriving at a high cliff over which the falls plunge 100 metres into an inviting pool. Swimming here is forbidden; fragile Fleay’s Barred frogs may or may not inhabit the creek. The falls are so named because of the protest against the logging referred to earlier.

We were glad to have made the effort, but now decided we had absorbed enough for one day, and so headed back for Lismore, this time travelling directly south through Modanville and Tullera, lovely open land growing mainly macadamias. As we came back through The Channon, we did come upon a communal park area further south which evidently is the location for the grand market.

Back in Lismore, we popped into MacDonalds for ice-creams to celebrate the sunshine then returned to camp. I prepared a pork roast for dinner while Chris climbed on to the roof of the caravan and re-painted the airconditioner.