We decided to get away from Sydney for a break and with no clear destination in mind we headed north. The weather forecast for the week that we chose was looking decidedly damp and so it proved to be, at least on that first day, as we drove to our first destination, Bluey’s Beach through some torrential downpours. We stopped at Kembali Café where half the population of Bluey’s seemed to be lined up on the footpath awaiting takeaway coffees – always a good sign if ever there was one. The food was delicious. We both opted for the excellent Fish Tacos washed down with a cold beer and followed with one of those excellent coffees, served by efficient and friendly staff. After a wander in the tiny retail high street (where I may have added to my wardrobe with a delightful ‘boho’ crocheted top), we drove over the hill and walked down to the beach.
The surf was pounding, wild and white. The waves rolled in, in quick succession and smashed the rocks at the northern end. The hills that edged the south of the beach all but disappeared in the mist and waves of sea spray and the effect was moody and mysterious.
We retreated to the dry of our hotel room and read our books, listened to the rain fall and contemplated a coastal holiday in inclement weather. That evening, with limited local dining options we drove to Sips@Moby’s where the menu was burgers or burgers. Fortunately the burgers we chose, mine a pulled pork and apple slaw and Ian’s a Chicken Schnitty, bacon and cheese monster were damned fine and we tucked in with relish.
The next morning dawned cloudy but dry and we walked down to revisit the beach while the rain held off. Stepping out of our door we were greeted by several wallabies enjoying the grass in the neighbouring paddock. It was only after I downloaded my photos that I realised one of them had a joey ‘onboard’.
The sky was the colour of lead but the walk was lovely and we were delighted to watch a huge Sea Eagle circling overhead and some tiny wrens dancing in the dune vegetation. The walk woke us up but we decided against a dip in the sea as the surf looked treacherous and full of rips and Ian said that if I washed up on New Zealand shores that he wouldn’t be able to visit until the travel ban lifted. We paid a visit to Elizabeth’s Beach, (well you have to don’t you,) and dodged more heavy plopping rain to check out the excellently named stretch of sea and sand.
The sea air invigorated our appetites and we backtracked a little to visit a charming café and boathouse sitting partly over the water on the estuary at Smith’s Lake. Called The Frothy Coffee and Boathouse we took one of the tables on the verandah over the water but had to retreat inside as the wind threatened to take the menus out of our hands. A sheltered outdoor table soon became available and we tucked in to a fabulous brunch and good strong coffee. I wanted a photo across the water looking back at the boathouse and so while we waited for our meals to be served I walked out along a grassy sandbar jutting out into the water. I got my shot but a huge squall hit as I returned. Ian snapped a photo of me just ahead of the rain front but the weather was moving much faster than me and I was soon overtaken.
I was wearing a rain jacket but my trousers got a soaking. The rain was torrential! The sound was thunderous on the verandah roof as we ate and rather than make the dash back to the car when we finished, I dried my pants under the hand dryer in the bathroom and drank a pot of tea. Eventually we had to leave though so we waited for a lessening of the torrent and made the sprint.
Driving north, we left the rain behind and headed into blue skies. Our next stop was the seaside town of Sawtell where we stopped at a self-described ‘rustic cabin’ just a few minutes’ walk from the beach. After settling in we took the track through the dunes to check out the beach. The surf was still wild and woolly but the walk was lovely and we let the sea wash over our feet and tug the sand away from under them as it retreated. We checked out the town and looked for dinner options for later on. Back at the shack we opened a beer and relaxed. As evening drew in we drove up to the headland lookout and watched the sea smashing against the rocks below and a beautiful sunset across the rolling waves - check it out. Back in town we chose a Thai combo of fish cakes, whiting and prawn spring rolls and a crunchy Asian salad from Sea Salt Fish & Chips which we took home to eat accompanied by a crisp, chilled Sav Blanc. We washed under a shining, almost full moon and countless stars in the outdoor shower and lay down to sleep under a billowing white mosquito net.
So close to Coff’s Harbour, we had to visit The Big Banana. I could picture in my mind a big breakfast of pancakes, bacon, maple syrup and of course, banana. And what do you know, there it was on the menu and boy, did that hit the spot! Washed down with a mug of fine coffee and we were ready to hit the road again.
Being late October, it was peak Jacaranda season so we drove inland to Grafton, the Jacaranda capital of Australia to soak in the mauve overload. It didn’t disappoint! Street after street bursting with lilac purple blossom, so pretty it lends its name to its own particular shade of Jacaranda Blue. A local told us we were there at peak blossom time but early morning really did the whole spectacle justice as the roads were covered in unbroken seas of the fallen flowers but the trees still had masses to show off too. Well worth the deviation.
Our next destination was something quite special. After a shop at a supermarket in Byron Bay we wound our way up into the hinterland north of Byron. At the end of a long and winding road we parked our car and waited for our lift. Soon a four-wheel drive arrived driven by our cheerful host. After transferring our bags we took off at a snail’s pace over a steep, windy and very rough track. A good twenty to twenty-five minutes later we pulled up to our home for the next three days and marvelled at our surrounds. Up in our bolthole the windows swung open onto the most astonishing and breath-taking vista down the rain-forested valley all the way to the shining sea on the distant horizon. Our little cabin had a tiny table and chairs by one set of windows, a small but adequate kitchen and beyond a bed with that view through two more windows. I held my breath and I couldn’t look away.
Over the next few days the view through that window went
through myriad transformations. We watched the mist and rain turn it into a
white cloud foregrounded by banana palms and a tree or two, we watched that
cloud rise out of the valley like a theatre curtain being pulled up to reveal
the sun soaked farm land below. We watched spectacular lightshows play out
amongst the billowing cumulus clouds of thunderstorms. The thunder rolled and
reverberated across the valley like Thor playing some massive timpani. The rain
hammered the tin roof and then the sun shone again and the trees glistened and
the leaves dripped. All the while the birds sang and chirped and called as they
flew across the valley. At night the frog chorus croaked out a massive sound
that filled the air. Facing east the sunrises were remarkable, the sun creeping
out of the sea and shining pink and orange on any clouds. Our final morning
brought a new spectacle, Venus, unbelievably bright in the still dark sky,
rising as the dawn broke and the colours appeared from the blackness. We
watched the moon rise in the evenings. We watched with total wonder, a glorious
rainbow that spanned the valley as the sun broke through after an afternoon
shower. One evening we ate our dinner with the lightning cracking through the
billowing clouds that hovered above the sea on the horizon.
We didn’t spend our entire three days and three nights staring out that window, (just most of it). We did a couple of bushwalks, one along the ridge behind the house and the other a very strenuous hike down to the valley floor to a waterhole and several pretty waterfalls. We definitely had what felt like the entire rainforest to ourselves which meant that skinny dipping was no hazard to the eyesight of any unsuspecting hikers. The water was so refreshing after the hot and humid trek.
We see it as our duty to tumble any rock stacks we find in any places of natural beauty. I used to be a big fan but now I view them as man-made intrusions on nature’s own splendour. Ian is quite the shot and can topple stacks with a well-aimed toss of a rock while I look on and applaud. Take only photos, leave only footprints. Don’t go altering the landscape to prove you were there.
We cooked ourselves some tasty meals, enjoyed some excellent reds, read in glorious peace with just birdcall and rain drips to soundtrack our stay. It was a perfect getaway as once you were there it was difficult to get out again which suited us perfectly as we didn’t want to leave, ever. After three days the unwinding was starting, just another month or two and the job would have been complete. I hope its remote location and basic amenities keep it hidden away for many years to come.
Time to head south and our hunt for coffee led us to Lismore where we stopped at the Regional Art Gallery for refreshment and a look at the remarkable Hannah Cabinet a thing of beauty and amazing craftsmanship that took six years to complete. Handcrafted from 34 different Australian and international timbers, inlaid with exquisite extensive marquetry using 17 different precious stones and 4 species of shell, it has 18 doors and 140 drawers, some of which are so secret that they will only be revealed if and when the cabinet is ever sold.
Check out this video that will show you more.
We drove on through the rural landscape, which was looking lovely after good recent rainfall, to Glen Innes where we stayed in a well-appointed cottage on an alpaca farm. Here we met the delightful Adrian and Betty and their herd of about thirty gorgeous alpacas. Adrian took us down to the paddock to become acquainted with these curious but aloof animals. One little girl, Hannah had been hand reared and gave Adrian an affectionate nuzzle. Brandywine came over for a look too. She is a grand old dame about 21 years old, moved from another farm when her owner could no longer care for her. It was very special getting up so close to these animals. Their expressions are priceless and they were happy to turn their faces this way and that as though they were posing for Alpaca Vogue.
After our alpaca encounter we headed into town to have a look at Australia’s Standing Stones which I have to say do just as the sign says, stones, standing. They are the centrepiece of a Celtic ground where Australia’s Celtic Festival is held each year (except not this year, of course). The massive stones (ok, not Stonehenge scale but bloody big anyway) are placed in a large circle. They indicate the points of the compass and the exact spot where the sun rises on each of the solstices, the winter and the summer. It was pretty cool to be honest. We then headed back to town to check out some of the lovely old architecture and stopped for a beer in one of the old pubs with the classic lace metal verandahs. Adrian had recommended another pub for our evening meal but unfortunately it was booked out so we stayed put to have dinner and enjoyed selecting groovy sounds on the juke box and finished our meal with a splendid boozy affogato.
On through more Aussie countryside with stops in Armidale for brunch, (a fabulous polenta cake stack at Caffiend), Uralla to check out the Captain Thunderbolt statue (he was a bushranger in the area in the mid 1800s or highwayman for our British friends) and then down Thunderbolt’s Way to Dungog to stock up on supplies for our final destination, the Barrington Tops National Park.
The Wilderness Cabins nestle just inside the park near the site of the old Barrington Guest House which sadly burnt down in 2006. Rustic but very comfortable, they serve as a technology detox as well because there is no phone, internet or television coverage so it’s switch off, tune out and turn on a non-tech life. To say we played tennis on the tennis court would be doing a terrible disservice to the sport of tennis. We ran around quite a bit, we swung at plenty of air, we bent down to pick up balls repeatedly and we laughed a lot. We are pretty sure we could improve if we practiced every day for about two years and things might have gone smoother if Ian had put down his beer during the game. It was a loads of fun and we only lost one ball in the surrounding bush. The local pademelons came out to watch us play. We’re pretty sure they were thinking that they could do better and they don’t have opposable thumbs!
We retreated to our cabin and welcomed many visitors. King Parrots, Rosellas, Mr and Mrs Satin Bower Bird, Bush Turkeys, Kookaburras all came to sit on our balcony and implore us to offer up some tasty morsels. We resisted because we all know it’s not right to feed native wildlife but that didn’t stop them helping themselves to a piece of one of the cookies left for us by our host. It was such a delight to be surrounded by these beautiful birds (if you discount the turkeys that look like badly aged punk rockers). They peeped and cooed and whistled and their little eyes entreated us to spoil them and it was very endearing. We admired their exquisite plumage and left them to forage for something heathier than my bag of Twisties.
Just one last stop on our way back home and after googling ‘winery lunch’ we found the delightful Deck Café overlooking a small lake on the Gartelmann Winery in the Hunter Valley. It is a tapas restaurant and we sampled dishes including tempura zucchini flowers, salmon and avocado bruschetta, crab dumplings and marinated, roasted field mushrooms. Washed down with the estate’s wines and followed by scrumptious desserts we enjoyed our lazy lunch very much. After a short stop in Morpeth to find it all but closed it was onto the freeway and back home again.
With things the way they are at the moment, we have little choice but to holiday in NSW if we want to travel at all. This was a great opportunity to revisit places I haven’t really been to since I was a teenager. Rural and regional Australia needs us and we would heartily endorse a road trip out to the bush. The people and the wildlife were exceedingly friendly and the scenery just lovely.