Karma days surfing Byron Bay

THE spirit brought to Byron Bay by Kombi-driving surfers in the late 1960s lives on: Stan Denham borrows a longboard and discovers nirvana on NSW's north coast.

Nirvana ... the luxurious Byron at Byron resort, set on nearly 20ha on lush rainforest at Suffolk Park, is a perfect mix of laid-back and upmarket.

SURFERS are a funny lot. We like to be part of our own crowd, but we don't like crowds, and more isn't always merrier unless you know everyone.

And Byron, I knew, could get very crowded.

Standing in the early-morning sun at Wategos, a classic, gentle break on the northern side of the Cape Byron lighthouse that's favoured by longboarders, I thought it would be like Sydney: the usual jostle.

Not having been in the water for a while, I'd headed to Byron with a borrowed longboard for a spring break.

Given the number of good local surfers at this beautiful spot, I assumed I wouldn't get any waves.

I wanted to get into the water regardless, and as I began pulling on my tattered old springsuit, a kindred spirit pulled up and began to chat.

As we watched, a gentle offshore wind brushed the faces of small, perfect, bright-green waves that held up then peeled off nicely across the corners of beautifully formed sandbanks.

I followed him into the little channel, and we paddled out through the warm, clear water.

He introduced me to another bloke with a big smile and a beard who looked like he was walking on water.

People kept offering me waves, which would have been great if I could have caught them all.

After an hour or so, he told me he and his mate were driving round to Belongil, on the other side of Byron, where it was pumping, and if I wanted to go too, to follow.

So we jumped in our cars, still in our wetsuits, then piled out at Belongil and hit the water dripping wet.

Later, I recounted the unusual tale to a smiling mate transplanted from Sydney who told me: "That other bloke was Beau Young (a world longboard champion, and son of '60s and '70s surf legend Nat Young).

"That's Byron, mate ... those two blokes you met are good surfers, but people are pretty laid-back here even when the place is packed.

"It's not like the Gold Coast. There's a lot of good karma."

Conjuring up a distant spot in the back of my memory, I recalled that karma used to be accompanied by Kombis, treehouses, waterfront shacks, cheap-to-rent farmhouses and plenty of home-grown, roll-your-own good vibes.

These days, it has really moved on and grown up, and you can do it all in fine style.

But the essence of this place still exists: the spirit brought to the area in the late 1960s and early '70s by surfers discovering the nirvana of the far north coast.

Which is why John and Lyn Parche, the international hoteliers who joined businessman Gerry Harvey a few years back to open and run the luxurious Byron at Byron resort, love the place.

They have lived and worked at great locations around the world, but here they have nirvana too.

And why wouldn't you love it? Byron at Byron has to be seen to be believed: nearly 20ha on lush rainforest at Suffolk Park, just behind Tallow Beach.

It's a five-minute drive into Byron Bay proper and some of the best surf spots and a fair bit of the most expensive real estate in the country.

The locals were opposed to the development at first, fearing it would be out of character, but it's not, and they ended up with a world-class resort that fits in perfectly.

It has provided plenty of work, too – the Parches prefer to hire local staff.

As a result, the Byron Bay spirit comes through, and it's a perfect mix of laid-back and upmarket: 92 luxurious, five-star rooms spread inconspicuously in low-profile, two-storey, beach-house buildings around the resort.

When you think all your Christmases have come at once anyway, staying here is the cherry on the pudding.

This time of year, you could just sit around the heated infinity pool in the warm spring sunshine for a week or so, and do what my wife and daughter did: order mocktails, teas, coffees and snacks at an alarming rate, while I tried really hard to eat the big breakfast on offer to save on lunch.

We ate a few times at the resort's restaurant, which is now open to the public, and it's a real corker for a special treat.

But if you want to save a few bucks, Byron isn't without places to eat. Any night of the week, you can find a decent, reasonably priced meal (and fish and chips on the beach isn't bad, either).

The drive out to Bangalow is worthwhile, too, with a couple of charming places on the main drag. And no visit to the Far North Coast is complete without a visit to the Mullum Chocolate Shop at nearby Mullumbimby.

A warning, though: don't eat too much if you plan on heading up to the lighthouse, the most easterly point in Australia.

Directly below is Cosy Corner beach, a little swell magnet protected from the north-easterly sea breeze in the shadows of Cape Byron.

To the south, Tallow Beach stretches down to Broken Head, a spot made famous by Nat Young and his cohorts in Albe Falzon's classic surf movie Morning Of The Earth.

To the north, you can see forever on a clear day, and the long walk down the steep headland past Little Wategos to the rocks is too easy.

I stood at the very end of the cape, arms outstretched like an idiot, taking delight in the fact that at that moment I was the most easterly person in Australia, and behind me was an entire continent doing whatever it does.

I shouldn't have been so smug. The walk back was a nightmare, and the yardstick for my lack of condition was the number of people flashing past while I stopped every five minutes for a breather.

I realised I was really in strife when a bloke at least 70 zoomed past after a quick "G'day" and a knowing nod.

Luckily, it was spring and the sea breeze was cooling, so at least I wasn't going to add heat stroke to death from exhaustion.

Next morning, my daughter took me on another walk around the resort's rainforest to a point overlooking a tidal lagoon behind the dunes at Tallow Beach. We sat for an hour or so, chilling out. Any more laid-back and we'd have fallen over.

Later, after making a necklace at the local beading shop – something I'd been looking forward to all year – we took some of the resort's bikes out beyond the rainforest track and followed the trail to the beach.

After that we hopped in the car and went for a swim in the warm water at The Pass, watched a glider swoop silently overhead on air currents served by the nor'easter, headed into town to buy her some clothes at the aptly-named Running Wild, then back to the resort for one last dinner.

The next day, as we packed up to leave and the bill for the mocktails, snacks and sandwiches lobbed, she informed me and my wife that she never wanted to go anywhere that wasn't like Byron at Byron.

I can understand her sentiment entirely. And one day, given her penchant for spending, she'll make someone a great wife.

The Sunday Telegraph