Holidays in the 1970s: the way we were

Holidays in the 1970s were divided down firm tribal lines that separated campers from holiday-flat dwellers. Which tribe did you belong to?

Noosa main beach in 1979. Picture: Geoff McLachlan

Cast your mind back to holidays of the 1970s and the great divide. Not the mountainous spine that runs down Australia’s east coast, but the firm tribal lines that separated campers from holiday-flat dwellers. Which tribe did you belong to?

My family was overwhelmingly in the former camp, so to speak. Winter sites included Girraween, Kosciuszko and New England, places so cold it seemed my brothers and I were being put through some kind of SAS induction. Our regular summer haunts were Lennox, Fingal and Evans Head, on the far north NSW Coast, where my parents could have a sneaky flutter on the one-armed bandits Queensland residents were deprived of. Going to the Gold Coast to stay in an apartment was unfathomable. If a Queensland beach stay was on the cards, only the Sunshine Coast to Brisbane’s north was an option. I recall a high school friend whose family not only had a high-rise bolthole on the Goldie, she would nip up to Hayman Island for hols, a place that sounded so exotic it may as well have been Zanzibar. I didn’t see the Great Barrier Reef until I was 22.

READ MORE: How the ’70s changed the way we holiday

Trawling the archives for T+L’s cover story this week has been an adventure in itself. We chose to focus on the ’70s because of the transformation that was happening in Australian holiday habits. Virtually everyone had a car (Ford or Holden, another demarcation), motels were plentiful and apartment buildings were popping up. We had more leisure time and, from 1974 for many of us, four weeks’ paid leave a year. Overseas jaunts remained the domain of the wealthy but the domestic road trip was a winner as we discovered how much there was to see in our own land.

The past two years of the pandemic have put the road trip back on the map, give or take a few blockades. But look at the choices we now have. Campers can glamp in ready-pitched tents with all the comforts of a five-star lodge. Holiday homes are exercises in interior design while a fresh luxury hotel seems to launch every few weeks. Even the humble motel is getting a makeover. I still love camping but give me a suite with a bathtub the size of a swimming pool, a bed the size of a football field and a glorious view and I’m in heaven.

Last weekend, my hubby and I visited friends on Sydney’s northern beaches. We swam at Freshwater, had a casual dinner at the Harbord Diggers – an architectural stunner – where we watched Ash Barty hold the Australian Open trophy aloft. We could have driven home to our own bed except we have a brand new double swag, and our friends have a lovely patch of lawn.

You can take the girl out of the campground, but you can’t take the campground out of the girl.

What are your memories of holidays in Australia in the 1970s? Where did you go and what did you do? T+L would love to hear from you. We intend to publish a selection of readers’ anecdotes in a future edition. Please email responses to [e-mail] with “1970s holidays” in the subject line; include your full name and town/city. Alternatively, add to the comments section below.