Never make this mistake on a road trip to Byron Bay

There are a lot of embarrassing ‘before and afters’ in life, and for me, a two week summer east coast odyssey was one of them.

Your first kiss (“have you been eating cheese and onion chips?”). Your first flat tyre (“hi, is that NRMA?”). Your first festival as a 28-year-old (“what are you doing here?”).

There are a lot of embarrassing ‘before and afters’ in life, and for me, one summer’s two week east coast odyssey – from Sydney to Byron Bay, via Crescent Head – was one of them.

Here are the worst mistakes I made on the trip, and how to fix them.

Choose the right crew

You can’t have everything in life. I’m a big believer in trying anyway, however, which is why I invited my girlfriend, brother and best mate all along on this trip.

Unfortunately the romance quickly died as my mate and brother started drinking beers and “battle rapping” in the back of the car as my girlfriend and I tried to concentrate on navigating and driving. All eight hours of it.

By the time they started kicking our seats and asking us “are we there yet?” we felt like we had aged 20 years and were a married couple with two insufferable kids.

It all starts with picking the right people.

Don’t drink too many margaritas (especially if your campsite has no drinking water)

I don’t want to get too dramatic, but I still suspect, midway through this road trip, my girlfriend tried to kill me. How? By depriving me of water.

Why? Well, I drank one too many heavily salted margaritas, had a giggling fit in the sand dunes, crawled around like Leonardo di Caprio after too many Quaaludes in the Wolf of Wall Street, challenged my brother to a wrestling match (and got submitted brutally), felt beautifully at peace with the world, and then returned to the campsite with a powerful thirst, only to discover my girlfriend had left the beach in disgust, cooked dinner, and then used most of our drinking water to wash up. The audacity!

The solution? Buy a good water tank. Or don’t be an idiot like me.

Discuss ‘comfort’ expectations before setting off

As it turned out, my 6’4” mate and 6’2” brother are a bit delicate. While my girlfriend and I are happy to save money and rough it, eating pasta with jar sauce every night and shrugging at brown snakes, my brother and mate shrieked at the wildlife, complained about the food (constantly demanding we drive them into town “to get a bacon roll”) and groaned every morning as the sun slowly cooked them in their tents.

On our daily breakfast pilgrimage in Byron Bay.

Don’t try to recapture your youth

True to the spirit of trying to do everything, we decided to go to a music festival (Falls) on New Year’s Eve. This was epic in theory. A surf trip and a festival. What could go wrong?

It all started well (the face painting was great). But without proper accommodation to return to, being woken up at 7am on January 1, in a soggy field in Mullumbimby, by the sun turning our tents into infra-red saunas, after quite a big night, was brutal. No wonder the catchphrase for our entire trip was: “Let’s get the f**k out of here.”

"How does my hair look?"

Don’t bring a cheap old tent

My friend learned this the hard way, at 3am, as we got back to our campsite from the festival, feeling – as one does on New Year’s Eve – single and alone, only to find his tent had flooded, and he would now have to squeeze into my brother’s swag.

He then had the audacity to complain about my brother’s snoring (while allegedly “putting his stinky feet in my face,” as my brother bemoaned).

Don’t expect fast service from small town bakeries

I waited 20 minutes for a coffee and a pastry in Mullumbimby on New Year’s Day. I kid you not. Turned out the guy had “forgotten the pastry.”

Dedicate a few days to yourself – preferably not in a tent

Just as we all began to get sick of each other, the brainwave I had of booking a couple of nights accommodation for my girlfriend and I in Byron Bay paid off.

Never has a shower (and a bit of peace and quiet) felt so good. It’s just a shame the “private apartment” we booked turned out to be a room in a share house.

Don’t pay $80 to camp in people’s front yards

Is there anything creepier than an Airbnb host who is just a little bit too friendly? Try an Airbnb host who advertises their garden as accommodation (and then invites you inside for a shower).

Though our hosts actually turned out to be legends, after a while their constant interruptions began to pall.

For $80 a night, you may as well spend $20 extra and stay in a hostel.

Don’t move around every couple of days

Though a change of scenery is nice, packing and unpacking the car soon drives you mad, as you get more messy, and less organised every single campsite you leave.

Welcome to Little Sydney! Don't relax, it's a trap!

Don’t ‘relax’ in Byron Bay

Though Byron Bay might aggressively warn you to “relax!” with a big sign as you drive in, you’ve got to be switched on to have a good time.

When I rocked up at the pub, for instance, at 2pm, to meet some friends, I was refused entry for not having ID. What is this, Vegas?

To add insult to injury, there were kids running around and eating pizza and playing inside. What gives? And to think people say Sydney is over-policed. I’ve never met more bouncers on a power trip in my life …

Don’t always be the designated driver

Share the load around. Otherwise you’ll get resentful. I learned this the hard way as I followed an increasingly merry group of friends all around Byron, feeling very sorry for myself.

Expect the unexpected

We also got creeped out as we went walking up the beach and found a beachfront Byron house with what looked like an Orangutan enclosure in the garden. It turned out to be for some kind of bird. Still, terrifying.

@jimjam1112

He made it look easy I swear... Fortunately I then shredded a wave like Kelly Slater and redeemed myself (jks, went straight on a close out, broke my legrope, and got my board panel beaten on the rocks)... #lennoxhead#whereistheflatrock#lennoxheadsurf#surfing#surfingnsw#surfingaustralia#suvcamping#roadtrip

♬ Bailando - Spanish Version - Enrique Iglesias

Don’t bite off more than you can chew in the surf

After mistiming a rock jump at Lennox Head, I scraped half my left nipple off. Not fun.

Pack a proper Esky

Otherwise when staying at remote campsites you’ll find yourself having to do constant runs into town to buy food. So getting an Esky you trust is worth it.

Bring enough chairs

Otherwise you’ll be constantly squabbling over who has to sit on the ground.

Bring a beach cabana

Along with my car’s awning, this was our saving grace.

Sitting under here drinking margaritas at Crescent Head (until the incident) was the undisputed highlight of the trip. Plus: the cabana probably saved me from third degree burns.

This article originally appeared on Escape and was reproduced with permission