Courtesy of JH and her cousin C, I got to visit (what I thought would be) the hippie enclave of Lamma island (sadly for a coupla hours only). As far as I could tell, the hippie quotient was kinda low in the main street area, but you could definitely see the influence feathering round the edges.
For one thing, the fabulous Bookworm cafe we went to wore its vegetarian/vegan/activist heart proudly on its menu and tables and walls and shelves; for another, people (locals, westerners, tourists) were, like, relak, man. Maybe except for the fresh-from-the-financial-district people (i.e. me and my companions).
There was so much of the green, and so narrow were the pavements (only motorised thing I encountered was this weird slim tractor thing), so happy were the canines, and so many were the bikinis/boarding shorts. I’m not sure if I can take the laidbackiness of it all, but I’d definitely be prodding people in Lamma’s direction (my dad and MN will prolly like it). When the sun gets more bearable, maybe I’ll see some cleaner beaches too. So gross was the one I stepped into.
Also sobering was a police notice board by the wayside with a rough reconstruction of a murder victim’s face. Whoever did the deed to the poor woman must be halfway across wherever by now, right? Oh yeah, passed by some paint-plastered rave party site too. What are the different colours for?
Click the pic to see photos from the day:
More evidence of hippiedom comes to mind (I might be slightly obsessed) — wind power generation and a prominent animal shelter with four-leggedies dressed in coats saying “Give me a home”.