Raw Half-Naked Treaties

DAY: Eleven
LOCATION: Byron Bay

Another day in paradise, another hike on Cape Byron. Only this time the sun came out to dazzle the waters and I huffed alongside India and Alex. Jenny and Sam needed to prep for a garage sale the next day, so I got to play tour guide to the lighthouse.

“My shout,” India picked up the tab for coffee at the café overlooking the bay. I wanted to get it, since she’d picked up my latte yesterday too, but I didn’t have my wallet. You’ll get her back later, it’s fine, I reassured myself as we sat down, spending entirely too much brain power worrying about this. Money was obviously still a weird thing for me – a good indicator I had a lot more work to do on the enlightened path.

But enlightenment could wait for later – right now we were talking about celebrities. It was bound to come up at some point, me living in Hollywood and all.

“How about Benedict Cumberbatch??” Alex asked, her face lit up.

“No, but I did see a Q&A with him for Imitation Game,” I grinned. “I’d love to talk to him about Doctor Strange, I wonder how deep he’s gone into the occult.”

“So who have you hooked up with?” India queried.

“Aside from the two I already mentioned, probably no one you’d really know,” I laughed. “Well, except maybe this Aussie actor from Neighbors.”

They hadn’t heard of him.

“For the best, he was absolutely rubbish in bed,” I made light of it, but it’d actually crushed me at the time, even with the sex being terrible. Oh, to be 23 and star struck. Thank god the stars had lost most of their luster over the years. Although I secretly sometimes still enjoyed the gossip.

After the hike and a quick dip in the ocean, we headed into town to grab brunch. Working in fashion, they had thought ahead and brought cute dresses to change into. I, on the other hand, was stuck in my high school track shorts (legit 11th grade). I knew it didn’t matter what I wore – it was Byron – but I still felt like the reject friend.

“Just go pantless, and wear this hat,” India handed me a black fedora and her oversized t-shirt. There was no way I was anywhere near hot enough to pull off such a bold look, but I went with it. As Thoreau said, pants don’t matter anyway, right?

Fittingly, we ate at Naked Treaties, a raw vegan food bar. The girls got smoothies, and I got a falafel wrap and chocolate mint cake.

Levi: That’s basically porn
Me: My heaven.

I’d been sending him way too many photos, including food pics. I set my phone down, but it vibrated again. Only this time it wasn’t Levi.

Jay: So I’m coming to Hong Kong for work. I could meet you in Ho Chi Minh, and then we can go to Phu Quoc. What do you think?

My pulse quickened. This could be super fun, or a total disaster. Jay was probably my wealthiest friend, a hedge fund guy who spent ¾ of the year traveling. We’d built our friendship on fine dining and expensive wine in my pre-vegan pre-sober days. Of course he was very supportive of my new lifestyle choices and I’d been introducing him to the joys of eating plant-based, but I still felt slightly unsure about the whole thing. What kind of spiritual journey included coal guys and bankster bros? Although, it would be really nice to have a friend in Vietnam…

“I think I need to get a new bathing suit,” I told the girls. “Can you guys help me?”

We browsed the main drag, trying on different sundresses and swimmers, and I remembered I liked shopping. This might sound silly, but for awhile I felt guilty buying anything, even second-hand. I felt guilty about paper napkins, to-go cups, and water bottles. I felt guilty about getting a new Prius after my car accident last June, and flying to Hawaii. I basically felt guilty about anything and everything created by civilization.

Let me tell you – this level of conscientiousness is exhausting. Unless you go full Christopher McCandless, you cannot avoid having some sort of negative impact on the environment. Even eating vegetables from an organic farm kills mice and other small creatures, as some omnivores love to point out.* This isn’t to say we shouldn’t strive to make improvements in our consumption, just that we need not punish ourselves for not being monks.**

I bought a little black and white number. We agreed it looked chic and classy, more Maldives, less Vegas day club. I sent James a photo of it, because yes, we were still texting. I hadn’t stopped communicating when I met Levi, just maybe a little less enthusiastically. One more thing to feel guilty about. But the truth was, I was single and free to date other people, and I also wasn’t fully convinced James wasn’t my guy.

“You’re allowed to be confused and figure things out,” Samantha told me later as we were getting ready to go out. It felt nice to be wearing a dress and makeup. Pretty, feminine. “You’re exactly where you need to be right now. Having a girl’s night with me.”

We called for a cab, but they were backed up and expensive, so we started walking the 3km instead.

“We can always hitchhike,” she said casually.

“Hitchhike?!” Every highway to hell horror film flashed across my mind, as well a reminder to download Levi’s favorite book.

“Yeah, just hold out your thumb. Try it.”

I extended my hand cautiously, lifting my thumb. A camper pulled off to the side.

“Beginner’s luck!” Samantha hoisted herself in. I followed. It was a group of 20-year-old Irish blokes. Way less axe-murdery than Janet’s roommate.

We made it safely into town and grabbed a quick dinner at Heart & Halo, a casual veg place. It was last call, so we got our meal for about $4.

“Yeah, the money thing is a challenge,” Sam confided. “I need to get another job aside from just working for Jenny, I’m almost out of savings. I still have to feed myself, you know?”

Oh, I knew. That was probably the single biggest thing keeping me in LA – money. I didn’t love being in advertising, obviously, but I did love the people I worked with, the flexibility of it, the health benefits, and the pay. Golden handcuffs, as Rebecca called it. The last time I’d lived pay check to pay check was in 2006. The thought of that terrified me on the same level as axe-murderers. Death and taxes…

We walked along the main street, bustling with the Friday night crowd. We picked up another raw vegan cake, then savored it while listening to perhaps the most soulful street musician I’d ever heard. I started to cry, for no other reason than his voice. We spoke to him briefly after he finished his set. Garrett Kato, another Canadian ex-pat.

“You sound like Ray LaMontagne. Or Damien Rice. Seriously,” I gushed. “I can’t believe you’re performing on a street corner.”

“I just love playing music,” he smiled bashfully. “And being in Byron.”

“Well, you’re amazing. Thank you for sharing your gift.”

Our original plan was dancing, but the only dance floor in town charged a $20 cover and was blasting Future. After hearing Garrett, it sounded like knives. We walked home instead, listening to the hum of the forest and each other’s laughter.

*It still kills far less sentient beings then eating cows or pigs or chickens, who eat food from crops that also kill the mice and “pests.” Follow the Buddha – strive to cause the least amount of suffering.

** Also, who’s to say what’s right and wrong? If you look at the work of some authors, like Jared Diamond and Daniel Quinn, our mistake was inventing agriculture. On the other hand, if you were to follow Hindu cosmology, we are just at the end of one Yugic cycle amongst millions. Or maybe we are in a holographic universe, one like Nassim Haramein has envisioned with his resonance theory. Anyway, the whole point is Christopher McCandless died out there hunting and gathering in the Alaskan wilderness, and we’re all going to die too. (Being downloaded to Google ≠ being alive)