Cruising the highway to swells

COOL coastal towns and surf-side camping: Stephen Lacey takes the legendary NSW coastal drive north from Sydney in a new Kombi van.

IN a country that prides itself on big roadside attractions, we'd discovered another: The Big Canary. That's what we coined our brand new VW Kombi Beach, in all its not-so-mellow yellow glory.

I suppose we could also have called it the Big Banana, but that name was already taken by a large piece of concrete fruit at Coffs Harbour. Speaking of which, Coffs was just one of the destinations in our great Aussie road trip, that saw us recreate the holiday drive of our childhood.

That drive became legendary stuff in our family.

Every Boxing Day, we would head off up the Pacific Highway from Gosford to Ballina.

Dad's way was to complete the formidable 800km drive in one day. That meant a 5.30am departure in my parents' brown Kombi and no stops along the way, except for petrol.

Sitting uncomfortably in the back seat, I'd be praying for the fuel gauge to dip towards empty faster than my bladder filled to breaking point.

That was then and this is now. 30 years on, I was determined to show my old man – who came along with us for the trip – how a north coast journey should be undertaken; with patience and lots of wizz stops.

This trip was all about the journey

The first change was our mode of transport. There was no more air-cooled, motor-in the-rear nonsense. This new Kombi had a donk where it's suppose to be – under the bonnet – and chilling out with glorious H2O. Plus it drank diesel, not petrol.

The old Kombi had trouble passing a pensioner on a mobility scooter but our Big Canary flew.

And this time I was the driver, so I'd say when and where we stopped. Heck, I'm mad with power already. We'd also be taking along my missus, who is handy with a Nikon, and our baby, Henry, who just lay there and gurgled.

With the Kombi packed, we hit the highway at the respectable hour of 9am. The torquey motor made easy work of both the F3 and up through the forested hills beyond Bulahdelah.

We made a rule that this trip was all about the journey, so we took lots of detours; the first being around the very picturesque Myall and Wallis Lakes.

My father showed us the little motel at Forster, where he and my mother honeymooned in 1961. We share a sad moment, as Mum is no longer with us, having passed away last year.

We reflected on simpler times, when people didn't need five-star resorts, boutique shopping and hi-tech theme parks in order to have a holiday. We're all a lot more sophisticated, but we've lost something along the way.

One of NSW's best kept secrets

Eventually we reached Port Macquarie, a township of incredible natural beauty being loved to death by cashed-up retirees.

Not wanting to spend too much time in this land of the long white Camry, we took the ferry across the Hastings River and travelled on back roads up to Crescent Head.

In the 1960s, this was one of the first stopovers on the `surfaris' from Sydney to Byron. Surfers would arrive in their Kombis and EH Holden wagons, with their longer Malibu-style boards, to ride the perfect point break.

Nowadays the boards may be shorter, but Crescent Head is just as popular as ever and in the Top 10 Australian surf spots list. It's one of those rare little coastal towns that has managed to retain much of its original charm.

We travelled 15km south along the dusty gravel road to the camping ground at Point Plomer, in the Limeburners Creek Nature Reserve. With its remote coastline of heathlands, banksia and blackbutt forest, this is one of the best-kept secrets in NSW.

The Big Canary provided a comfortable night's sleep for my old man and the baby.

My missus and I shared a less comfortable night in a tent. I laid back and listened to the waves crashing along the sand, less than 20m away.

Charming little seaside village

After a quick cup of tea the next morning, we made our way back onto the Pacific Highway and headed north through Kempsey, Nambucca Heads, Coffs Harbour (urban sprawl gone mad), finally stopping to stretch our legs and have lunch at the pretty little village of Woolgoolga.

Unfortunately, we'd missed the annual Curry Fest (Woolgoolga is home to the largest regional sikh/punjabi population in Australia), so we grabbed a curry-flavoured meat pie from the local bakery instead.

A little further up the highway we turned off for Wooli, another charming little seaside village that few people realise is there. Wooli is near the south end of the 20,000ha Yuraygir National Park, the largest area of protected coastline in NSW.

The village itself sits on a narrow sandy isthmus, sandwiched between the pristine Wooli River and the Pacific Ocean. Beaches stretch in either direction for as far as the eye can see. We don't want to spend another night in the tent (and my old man isn't too keen on sleeping in the back of the Big Canary again), so we book a night at one of Wooli's little fishing cottages.

It's in a lovely position, overlooking the river.

The beach is only five minutes walk away and there's the bowlo nearby, where we order Chinese takeaway. The whole experience is a glorious blast from the past.

We spend a leisurely morning wandering around Wooli, nodding to folks walking their dogs and asking the fishermen if they're getting any bites. Even my old man is getting used to this more leisurely way of travelling.

It's not until 11am that we jump behind the steering wheel again and drive north to Yamba and Angourie.

Pub looking over the ocean

Angourie is another hot spot on the surfing radar, rated highly for its awesome right-hand wave and one of only a handful of National Surfing Reserves in the country. Former world champion Nat Young is a local.

This was not a place for the inexperienced, so we ducked back to Yamba for lunch at the famous Pacific Hotel. Built in 1934, it is perched on the edge of a cliff looking over the ocean.

If there's a better place on the planet to enjoy a meal and a beer, we want to hear about it.

Since the arrival of the first surfers back in the early '60s, the Pacific Hotel has been somewhat of a surfing institution.

Instead of art on the walls, the hotel has an impressive display from Nat Young's rare surfboard collection, along with an annotated history of the evolution of the boards, designed by pioneers such as Bob McTavish, George Greenough and Wayne Lynch.

Many Australian surf greats from various eras have dropped by for an ale at one time or another: Mark Richards, Wayne "Rabbit" Bartholomew, Mark Occhilupo, Taj Burrow and Mick Fanning.

We wandered out the front of the hotel, where a couple of baby boomer long-board riders were admiring the Big Canary.

"She's a terrific unit," said one.

"Yeah, not bad," offered the other. "Looks bloody comfortable, but you know what? I reckon I'd rather me old EH."

The Daily Telegraph