Saving the best of Coffs Harbour until last

Following an authentic Saturday night out where I developed a new cultural understanding of the social habits of the older female and some big cats, what could be better than an authentic Sunday morning breakfast at the surf club. Sitting in the sunshine admiring the sparkling sea-diamonds and surfers on the big blue, we reckoned that our Canadian waitress probably had one of the best offices in the world. She agreed and imparted some words of wisdom about how to get what you want out of life. Good coffee, a great view, excellent company and some sound advice all for the price of three breakfasts.

Energised by the tasty food and the glorious sunshine, Jason decided he was taking us on a magical mystery tour of his town.

He took us to the spots known only to locals and we found ourselves in fields of kangaroos and even spotted more whales in the distance.

As we skimmed stones over the beautiful Emerald Bay it felt like we were on our own private beach. Surrounded by very friendly kangaroos and their joeys, we sat in the bright Aussie sunshine for a while and just let the world pass us by.

Then it was off for milkshakes and lemonade and some time on the swings to burn off the sugar – and that was just Nicola.

 

From the vivid blue of the sea in the morning light we moved up into the mountains where the only thing piercing the stillness of the bush were the long fingers of afternoon sun and our 4WD on the dirt tracks that the boys know so well. Another excellent view and a bit of an adrenaline trip to boot.

The adrenaline kept on pumping with a series of air hockey, car racing and pinball challenges, but Jordan and Hunter were just too good for us and retained their champion status. That evening, with the grace and ease of a master chef, our hero host produced a Sunday roast that any Irish Mammy would be proud of.

On this, my third visit to Coffs Harbour, its magic was revealed to me and I fell a little bit in love with it. As the last stop on our 'Great Australian Road Trip', Coffs Harbour was bound to be a bit sad, but our host and his 'Joeys' made it a quite special.

So the lesson here is, if at first you don't succeed, try, try again, or just get a local to guide you.

 

Nimbin nights

It was suggested that we visit Nimbin on our travels. Originally we had thought about spending two nights here but enjoyed Rainbow beach so much we could only stay one night in Nimbin. Turns out it was one night too many.

Home to the Aquarius festival in the 1973, we expected this town to have a pretty strong hippy vibe going on. What we weren't expecting was for some of the dudes who were actually here in 1973 to still be here and wearing the same clothes. Nimbin is also probably the easiest place in Australia to score some pot in, so that explains a lot.

We should have smelled a rat when we had difficulty booking an en suite. Nobody seemed to have them. The only hotel in town didn't even take bookings – turns out the accommodation was just for bar customers who needed to 'crash' and was allocated on a first come, first crash basis. We finally found a place which was described in the guide book as 'more normal than the others' so we booked it.

On arrival, we were checked into a very 'cosy' room in an establishment that reeked of cigarette smoke, pot and cats. Hmmmm. The room looked a bit grubby, well actually it looked dirty, so we gingerly drew back the duvet to reveal badly stained sheets which may also have been around since 1973 and bits of food which were slightly more recent. We then made the mistake of opening the fridge, and the large number of cultures living in there promptly said hello to us. Given that it was late and we were unlikely to find anywhere else at this point we decided to ask for clean sheets, change the bed linen ourselves and make sure to sleep in our emergency sleeping bags.

Feeling claustrophobic and grubby we thought we should at least go into town to experience some of the 'atmosphere' everyone talks about. We arrived in the local bar to find a good band playing to a very small audience, all of whom were completely stoned. But the first assault on our senses was the eye-watering stench of BO. If it was a deliberate effort to mask the smell of pot then it was very effective. It might also explain that lack of en suite bathrooms and why our shower was the cleanest thing in the room... clearly no call for showering here resulting in unused showers, unlike the bedsheets.

Trying to blend in, we ordered a couple of drinks, making sure to get bottled beer. Almost as soon as we sat down the band took a break and the entire audience (all twelve of them) left the room en masse to go 'out back' and smoke pot.

The only people left in the room were Nic and I and three other conspicuously clean-smelling people (obviously tourists too) who were discussing how they could play a game of pool with only three of them so I volunteered to make up the fourth person and we played doubles. They were German and unfortunately fell all too easily into the German stereotype of being very precise, measured and efficient. They were also very competitive. To my amusement I found myself in a bar full of people so stoned they could hardly stand and playing pool with three Germans who spent most of the game measuring and discussing the angles of their shots.

Then a couple of police officers entered the bar, took one look at the Germans measuring up the pool table, figured they were far too uptight to be stoned and made a beeline for the pot-party outside. Surreal.

Eventually the band returned and show continued. As designated driver, I wasn't drinking and was amused to find that the police car followed us all the back to our grubby 'lodge'. I suspect we were the only people actually using a car that night and the police needed some entertainment. Once they observed us for a while they got bored again and slowly drove away. In contrast, we couldn't get out of there quickly enough the next morning, but did stop for a good coffee in a very 'groovy' place on the way out of town.

When we arrived at our friends house in Coffs Harbour later, we were informed that we were supposed to 'visit' Nimbin, as in pass through, not 'stay the night'. But let's face it, no roadtrip is complete without staying in at least one dive and it provided us with some good entertainment.

A pot of gold at the end of the Rainbow

The road south from Airlie was very long and a bit sad but a three night stop in the comfort of 'Debbie's Place' in Rainbow beach lifted our spirit. The weather was perfect for Nic to explore Frazer Island, the biggest sand dune in the world, on a 4WD tour where she experienced beach road rules and swam in Lake McKenzie's famously clear water.

Meanwhile I took a long walk on the very long Rainbow Beach, so named because of the multi-coloured sand cliffs. I walked for four hours this golden beach peppered with sparkling black granite sand and red ochre, and still only covered a fraction of this beautiful shoreline where the fishes were actually jumping out of the water. Fishes, and a naked man, but that's another story.

With our interest in dolphins stimulated on the Whitsunday islands, we spent three hours kayaking around Inskip Bay watching pods of dolphins leaping and spinning, ducking and diving as the sun sank behind Frazer island and the moon hung low over the mainland.

The next day we took a detour to explore the local sand blow. Neither of us knew what a sand blow was and as we rounded the corner we surprised and slightly confused to discover a huge field of barley, except it wasn't barley, it was sand. Apparently, the strong shore wind blows the sand over the headland and a huge dune moves inland covering all the vegetation in its path creating a mini desert in the middle of a forest.

Trekking across it, it appeared to end in a sheer drop sand-cliff. As I stood as near to the edge as I dared I thought how terrifying it must have been to be one of the original ocean explorers sailing towards a horizon and hoping the world was round after all. I was also reminded of the final scene in Thelma and Louise, but I'm happy to report that both Nic and I were not being chased by police. That happened the next night.

Sailing in Whitsunday heaven

Positivity, positive energy, joy, happiness, whatever you choose to call it, is infectious. I was reminded of this on what turned out to be 'the Daddy of all cruises' aboard the 125ft island-trader 'Pacific Sunrise'.

The tone was set at check-in when the woman behind the desk got very excited on learning which of the dozens of boats that leave Airlie Beach every day we had chosen. Based on the website pictures I had my doubts, however her genuine enthusiasm and promise of five star treatment was infectious and seeped into my hangover-dulled spirit.

That sense of anticipation increased when our hostess, Louise and the first-mate, Luke met us at the marina and escorted us aboard where we were assigned our private en suite cabins for our 3 night cruise around the Whitsunday islands. We were giddy with excitement as we joined the other 13 passengers on the top deck for complimentary champagne as we set sail.

The weather was perfect and we were treated to a beautiful sunset over a mercury-like ocean before sitting down to the first of our 3 course gourmet dinners. I thought 'this is too good, something is going to go wrong'. But it didn't. Not once.

The next day started with a bacon and egg breakfast before the crew launched the kayaks and we spent the morning paddling around the clear, shallow waters of the aptly named Turtle Bay. We were stunned at the visibility and abundance of the marine life swimming around the coral just beneath us; starfish, sting-ray, fish and dozens of sea turtles. There was even a large rock nestled among the coral, about four feet in diameter, except it wasn't a rock. It was a very big, very old turtle that didn't even bother to move as we paddled right over it.

Next we were aboard the tender and speeding to the famous Whitehaven Beach where even I donned a bikini to swim in the crystal clear water and walk on impossibly fine, white sand; the photographic evidence of which will not appear on this blog! After a hike back through the Whitsunday Islands National Park, we were ready for the gourmet lunch served up by our brilliant chef, Alan.

That afternoon, Chey, the captain, suggested we change course and go in search of humpback whales. A good decision with a rich reward. On route, we were joined by not one but two pods of dolphins.

As we hung out over the side of the boat these beautiful creatures performed dives, spins and leaps for us. At one point there were at least 18 dolphins, big and small, playing in the bow-wave of the boat.  One of them turned on its side and actually winked at us! Their grace and beauty cast some kind of magic spell and joy descended on everyone of us.

When a breaching whale was spotted in the distance we literally did not know which way to turn. Dolphins to the bow and the starboard. Humpback whales to the stern and port. The whales were more cautious but our patience paid off and we spotted eleven of these magnificent creatures as they breached and dived.

At that point we could have gone home happy, but there was more to come. As we anchored in Luncheon Bay for the night, Chey suggested a sunset snorkel. Within minutes, dive-master Jesse had kitted us out in our 'suits of shame', more commonly known as wetsuits, and we were in the water, watching the setting sun bathe the lavender, ivory, burgundy, and moss coloured coral in a golden light.

Chey encouraged us to go underwater and hold our breath and as my fellow snorkelers bobbed away in their own bubbles of bliss, I held my breath, stuck my head underwater and actually heard the whales singing in the distance. Immersed in water, surrounded by curious fish, vibrant colours and the soft, sad whale song, I watched the sun sink below the horizon and felt an ocean of stress ebb away with the evening tide. Another gourmet dinner and some trivia games later I counted my blessings, and not for the first time on this trip.

So how do you follow a day like that? You go scuba-diving and snorkeling on the reef of course. The suits of shame emerged again and we spent the day visiting some of the most stunning coral coves in the Whitsundays. I attempted to go scuba-diving here 10 years ago and failed. I was terrified. This time I was still terrified but I did it. Once I actually started swimming underwater through the hills and valleys of magnificent coral I was fine, it was just getting to that stage! But, Jesse was very patient and held my hand all the way.

Once back on the boat I think I was more exhilarated about actually completing the dive than I was about what I saw while down there. But by the afternoon my adrenaline had dropped and I could enjoy the luminescent tropical fish, the giant pulsating clams, the perfectly symmetrical starfish and the incredible variety of colour and texture of the Blue Pearl Bay coral.

Day three was another perfect day, weather-wise at least, but it was with a heavy heart that we helped the crew hoist the sails on the way back to Airlie Beach. Quite simply, we didn't want this experience to end. It takes quite a talent to bring 15 strangers together from 8 different countries and all ages and stages of life and make each one of them feel like an honoured guest among friends, not a paying passenger. The crew of the Pacific Sunrise are a professional and highly skilled group and achieved this with ease.

This was a five star treatment trip where our hosts made us feel very welcome, relaxed and content. No surprise then that Nic and I and our new friend, Shannon, found it very hard to disembark. There was even talk of stowing away, but once we dried our eyes and found our land legs on Airlie Beach the company and craic continued. Long may it last.