How Australians holidayed in the 1970s
T+L’s story about the decade that changed the way Australians travel sparked a huge – and entertaining – response.
Last weekend’s story about 1970s holiday habits resonated strongly with T+L readers, who emailed and commented with their own fond memories of the decade that transformed the way Australians travel. We’ve compiled a selection of anecdotes sent in, and hope you enjoy reading them as much as we did. We wish we could have included them all.
READ MORE: How the 1970s shapes Australian holidays
My thoughts are drawn to a holiday as a 12-year-old with my family in 1972 to flats at Thirroul. The trip from Millthorpe in the NSW central west to my first glimpse of the ocean from the window of the family HD Holden station wagon, driving down Bulli Pass, was breathtaking. Our holiday location was right on the beach in pretty modest accommodation, owner-built by a proud old bloke and World War II veteran who had found his patch and was very happy with it. My dad was able to relax for one of only a few times in his life. My two brothers, a sister and I enjoyed the surf and sand and fish ’n’ chip dinners every night. We did a family excursion on Lake Illawarra in a hired rowboat that might have been tacked together some time in the 1930s, but the best by far was a tour of BHP’s Port Kembla steelworks – exciting, frightening and my god it was hot. But in that naive belief we seemed to carry in our hearts during that particular time in Australia’s history, I felt proud of our industry and power. I have done much better since, holidaying with my own wife and three sons to Pacific islands and Asian resorts, but the childhood memories of that family holiday persist. You forget the mozzies, sunburn and frayed tempers, and seem only to remember the fruit loops, Vegemite toast and Sunny-boys. I hope it’s still a thing down there. Maybe there is a nifty caravan park, with Hiluxes, jetskis and Webers.
Ken McRae
Arriving in Sydney as 10-pound Poms, we bought a second-hand Mini. We decided our first big trip would be to Canberra for the Easter weekend of 1970. Driving along the Federal Highway, we felt we were in the Outback. Naively, we hadn’t booked accommodation and soon realised there was none to be had in Canberra. After eating our picnic lunch, we headed to Bateman’s Bay, only to find “no vacancy” signs everywhere. The car was too small to consider sleeping in overnight so it was back to Sydney for us. This was before the advent of fast food outlets and, being Good Friday, no cafes or shops were open. A packet of Tim Tams kept us going for the trip home. The Mini was soon sold and a car more suitable for Australian conditions purchased and, even now, we always book our accommodation before we leave home.
Janet Carr, Myaree, WA
My travel up north began in the early 1960s when I took holidays from Melbourne and ended up in Byron Bay. I fell in love with the town and determined it was where I wanted to live. In 1973 I started Australia’s first onshore scuba diving charter business to Julian Rocks. It was a huge success. I sold out in 1986 but today two dive shops earn a substantial living taking divers out to Julian Rocks, which is a world-class, heritage-listed location and part of the Cape Byron Marine Reserve. I have just completed a book detailing life in Byron.
Bill Silvester
Most families I knew jumped in their unairconditioned uncomfortable Holdens or Fords and drove for miles. My most epic trip involved a friend and I driving a Morris Nomad from Melbourne to Darwin. Numerous adventures ensued, especially on the then unsealed sections near Longreach and Winton. We headed north but Darwin was destroyed (along with our hosts’ home) by Cyclone Tracy a couple of weeks later.
When cheap airfares appeared, a friend and I each got a return ticket from Kuala Lumpur to Sydney. We just had to get ourselves to KL. The first leg was the drive to Darwin, as above, then various small planes, boats, buses through Portuguese Timor (as it was then) and Indonesia and eventually Malaysia. Aussies ventured overseas in great numbers thanks to cheap “student” travel. Gotta love the ’70s.
Mike Sandy, Terrey Hills
Two friends and I made our way to Ayers Rock by Land Rover in 1974. The road was dirt all the way from just north of Port Augusta. At the rock, the amenities consisted of a toilet block. That was it. Fuel near the rock nearly broke us at 11c a litre. But it was the ski picture (in last weekend’s article) that got me. When I was about 17, our fun was skiing on a small lake surrounding an artesian bore on a large western NSW property now owned by American Ray Dalio of investment giant Bridgewater fame (and historically visited by the Prince of Wales in 1921). We were towed not by a boat, but by a Land Rover on the bank.
Peter (online)
This article brought back some wonderful memories, such as driving a Holden Kingswood HT model at the incredible speed of 160km/h on the Hume Highway between Albury and outer Melbourne on the final day it was legal to travel at any speed you (or the police) considered safe. The following day a speed limit was imposed. Or watching the Leyland Brothers on black and white television and planning to follow in their footsteps. Or driving from Sydney to Airlie Beach in Queensland (in 1982) for my honeymoon, with my 12-year-old stepson in the back seat, playing his favourite tapes non-stop on a battery-powered cassette player. I doubt today’s modern travellers flying across the continent have as much fun as we had in those bad old days.
Faithful Servant (online)
My first unforgettable holiday was around 1957 to Brampton Island. Ansett-ANA Melbourne-Sydney in a Lockheed Electra, Sydney-Brisbane in a Vickers Viscount, Brisbane to Mackay in a Convair Metropolitan. Kids were howling with crook ears – it took all day. We spent the night in a hotel and the next day went on a Roylen Cruises boat about two hours out to Brampton for 14 days; it was stunning. Bob and Dolly Dyer had their own house there and were happy to mix with the tourists when they were there. Reg Ansett dropped in on a flying boat, might have been a Catalina, not sure. Not sure how my parents afforded it.
Scorpio (online)
I was in the army at Enoggera and Canungra in 1966. I spent lots of days off at the Goldie, then our honeymoon in 1968 in our sports car. Our friend, the late Bernie Smith, owned the Big Cat ferry to Green Island and also the game fishing boat. Lee Marvin used to hire a chopper to get outside of the reef – the deckies said he was a fantastic tipper. They used to shout us drinks after days of fishing. Great days at the Marlin Bar. Fantastic.
Carmichael Hubby (online)
I remember a road trip to Queensland from Sydney with my parents when I was 16. I was learning to drive. One night my parents camped off the highway somewhere – it was already dark. In the morning we awoke to find the dirt road we had entered led to the local tip, which is where we had camped.
Geoffrey, Victoria (online)
Ah, the excitement and simplicity of those days. In the mid-’70s I started as the assistant cruise director and later cruise director on the Fairstar. We travelled to a wide variety of South Pacific Islands, then we would travel extensively through Indonesia, including Bali, at a time most people still lived in villages, then off to Singapore – which was actually more exciting during that period – for several days while the ship was in dry dock. Then we’d head off to Taiwan, exciting Hong Kong and extensively around Japan returning via Guam and Rabaul to Oz. The cycle would then be repeated around the South Pacific including Papua New Guinea.
William (online)
My father took us to the Gold Coast in 1977. Great road trip. We stayed at the Mermaid Beach caravan park opposite Magic Mountain with its chairlift. He took my L-plated sister for driving lessons in the still-under-construction carpark of Pacific Fair shopping complex.
My Two Cents (online)
Every year, we went caravanning with my in-laws to Wangaratta in northeast Victoria, where we would set up the annex and sit outside watching the cricket on the black and white portable TV. This was punctuated by the obligatory trip over the border to play the pokies and the once-yearly picnic at Lake William Hovell (in the High Country). Like clockwork for 20 years. Heaven on earth in what used to be called the lucky country.
Pat (online)
Tasmania in the 1960s. Premier Eric Reece (Electric Eric) once said of the tourism industry: “These bushwalkers come here for a fortnight with one shirt and a £10 note. And they don’t change either of them.”
Senza Piombo (online)
My mum was executive assistant to Polish brothers Stanley and Hillel Korman, who started the Chevron Hotel brand in Australia. She cut the ribbon at the opening of the original Chevron Hotel on Cavill Ave, Surfers Paradise, in 1957. This was the big push to turn the Gold Coast into Australia’s Miami. Stanley was the original Alan Bond-esque entrepreneur who, like Bond, ended up on the wrong side of the law for being too entrepreneurial. Stanhill apartments on Queens Rd, Melbourne, is one of their remaining legacies.
Robert
As a young fella in the 1970s, I was planning a holiday to the Gold Coast. I told someone I worked with and he said. “Don’t take a package holiday. They are a rip-off!” So I went to the airline office in the city and paid for the tickets. I flew up to Coolangatta and hired a car at the airport. I drove up through the Gold Coast and stopped at a very ordinary motel and booked in for a week. I wandered around gazing at the highrises that looked over the beach. I had a good holiday. A few years later I decided to go back. I saw an ad for a package holiday with TAA flights, car hire, and when I got there, a double-bedroom apartment a few yards from Cavill Ave. The balcony looked over the beach. The cost was the same as the flight alone had cost me several years before. I never listened to other people’s advice about travel again. I still like Surfers.
David H
I learned how to waterski at the Gold Coast Water Ski Gardens, and had many an icecream at the Big Pineapple ... ah memories.
Jen (online)
Every summer, Mum would take me and at least one of my sisters to the farm where Nanna and Pop were caretakers at Frankland in the Great Southern of WA on the bus service – eight hours, following the freight rail line to Albany. That bus ride was exotic – like catching a plane – with its fancy individual seats and chilled water dispenser and on-board dunny. We’d get dropped off at Cranbrook, where Pop would pick us up in his brush-painted R Series Valiant for the hour drive to the farm. Two weeks in sweltering heat, but basically allowed to roam free all day anywhere. Highlights were the odd occasion I’d get to help out when the sheep needed drenching, or when Pop went into town to mow the lawn at the bowling club.
John (online)
Every May and Christmas holidays, we’d go straight to Rottnest and stay either at “tent land” or one of the cheaper shack rentals. It was relatively affordable in those days but very, very basic. No showers, for example, except for one hot water, pay, shower block that serviced hundreds of people. Most of us had a hot soapy shower maybe once a week. The greatest memories of my life were on that island in the ’70s and ’80s. Such a shame that it’s all gone now and largely unaffordable for most families. Today it’s cheaper spending a month in Bali than a few days on Rottnest.
Chris (online)
A trip “over east” from WA naturally involved driving – flying was too expensive – and staying in on-site caravans, with the occasional motel room considered a luxury. Camping in those days, with its heavy tents, wasn’t an option, but occasionally towing a pop-up trailer canvas tent worked. If I remember correctly, motel rooms were only $15 a night and petrol was cheap. With a young family and paying off a new home with zero furniture, we didn’t holiday regularly.
Graeme#4 (online)
My first interstate holiday was an early ’70s Easter “camping” trip to a beach – somewhere near Ballina, but I’m not sure where, because there was no sign of civilisation anywhere nearby. (“This’ll do!”) We stayed in a tent made from hanging a large piece of discarded carpet underfelt (courtesy of someone’s sister) over a bit of rope strung between two bushes. The cooking was just as primitive. It seemed like a good idea at the time and, like a lot of things young people do, was completely devoid of planning., but I still recall it as being a lot of fun. And I learnt not to try and hire a tent on the Gold Coast on the first day of Easter.
JBD (online)
In the ’70s, no matter whether you were a camper or a holiday-flat dweller, it seems to me (maybe through rose-coloured glasses), that Australian society was much more egalitarian. We all had a lot of fun. This egalitarian approach to life always seemed to me to be one of the fundamental “Aussie” values. I fear the kids of today would not know what I am talking about.
Michael (online)
With five kids, only camping was an option. Kingswood station wagon with bench seat, a box trailer with cage, three tents (the main one for the grownups – had its own front awning plus tent fly), Eskies, barbecue, fold-up everything, sometimes a Canadian canoe or a wind surfer.
Philip (online)
More to the story
Our mention of Australia’s nascent wine tourism and the go-to 1970s drops of Ben Ean, Porphyry Pearl and Blue Nun sparked a few memories. Readers added Kaiser Stuhl Cold Duck, Starwine (white and pink), Mateus, Blackberry Nip, Passion Pop, Sparkling Rhinegold and Black Tower to the wine list.