Six towns. Eight days. One Mitsubishi Eclipse. And a whole playlist of new wave music. This was our Christmas and New Year’s holiday, a journey up the New South Wales North Coast, into Queensland, and back again. From sleepy seaside towns to glittering city lights, we covered it all, one beach, one firework show, and one winding road at a time.
26 December. All packed for a week-long getaway, we hit the road under the bright Boxing Day sun, the car filled with excitement and holiday tunes. The streets buzzed with post-Christmas revelers, families in SUVs and caravans making the most of the extended holidays. With our offices on shutdown, there was no rush—just the open road and the promise of adventure.
Our first stop was a farewell fellowship at Dolls Point with the MFC community, saying goodbye to the Sanga family who were moving to the Gold Coast—coincidentally, also on our itinerary. We arrived just in time for lunch and were welcomed by both familiar Sydney faces and visiting MFC members from Hong Kong, making it a mini reunion over shared meals and warm catch-ups.
By 2 p.m., we said our goodbyes and continued north, the mood in the car mellow and cheerful. Our first overnight stop was Heatherbrae, with a scenic detour to Sunset Park in Tanilba Bay. Thanks to the long summer daylight, we had extra time to take in the views and enjoy the laid-back coastal vibe before the sun dipped below the horizon. The calm, golden afternoon set the tone for the rest of the journey—slow, intentional, and full of little joys.
On our way to retire for the day, we braced ourselves for the long stretch of the M1—a seemingly endless ribbon of road cutting through the New South Wales landscape. Though Newcastle was just a slight detour away, we decided to skip it this time to make the most of the day’s planned stops and keep our momentum going.
Thankfully, the monotony was broken by my carefully curated new wave playlist, which turned the drive into a nostalgic sing-along session. It was an unexpected hit, especially with Tito Jing, who lit up at the familiar sounds of A-ha and Wang Chung. With the windows down and synth-pop filling the car, even the most uneventful parts of the highway felt alive.
27 December. The day started early with a 6 a.m. run, the morning air still cool and quiet as the world slowly stirred awake. After a refreshing shower, I prepared our breakfast while the rest of the group got ready. We also packed lunch—an easy, practical move that gave us the freedom to stop at a roadside picnic area whenever hunger struck, without the pressure of finding a café along the way.
We departed St Francis Drake with anticipation, ready to explore more of the Port Stephens Bay area. Our stops included Toboggan Hill Park, the bustling Nelson Bay, and the stunning Fingal Beach. Each place offered a mix of fun and nostalgia—especially Fingal, which brought back memories of our choir group trip during the height of the pandemic.
Tita Sheila was so taken by the beach’s beauty that she made a quiet promise to bring the whole family back for Australia Day in January.
The rest of the day was largely spent traversing the A1 toward Port Macquarie, a steady two-and-a-half-hour drive that unfolded under a bright summer sun. The Pacific Highway offered a smooth and comfortable ride, flanked by endless stretches of native forest—tall trees lining both sides like sentinels watching over the road.
Every so often, signs popped up with their familiar message: Stop. Revive. Survive. A gentle but firm reminder to keep safety top of mind, especially during the holiday season.
Even with double demerit points in effect across New South Wales, accidents still happen—proof that familiarity can sometimes dull caution.
These safety signs served not just as legal prompts, but as welcome breaks in the monotony, giving travellers like us a moment to pause, breathe, and stay present on the long drive north.
At the edge of Port Macquarie’s tip lies Little Bay, home to the historic Tacking Point Lighthouse—a quiet, windswept spot where the land meets the endless sea. We arrived in the late afternoon under an overcast sky, the sun hidden behind layers of grey, casting a muted glow over the coastline. A gentle gale greeted us as we climbed the wooden stairs leading up to the lighthouse, the salty breeze brushing against our faces.
There was a fixed binoculars set up for viewing, pointed toward the vast expanse of ocean. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was ever meant to spot Lord Howe Island, some 600 kilometres east of us—an unlikely view on a day like this, but an amusing thought nonetheless. The atmosphere was serene, even a bit melancholic, but beautiful in its own quiet, windswept way.
The rest of the daylight hours were spent on a relaxed two-hour drive to Coffs Harbour, the Pacific Highway guiding us through more stretches of forest and glimpses of coastline as the sky slowly dimmed. With the playlist still humming softly in the background and conversation winding down, it was the kind of drive that gently lulled us toward the day’s end.
That night, we concluded with the meal we had thoughtfully prepared earlier, enjoying a quiet dinner in the small but comfortable confines of the Best Western Parkside Motor Inn. Conveniently located near the heart of Coffs Harbour, it offered just what we needed—a restful place to recharge, with the promise of nearby attractions waiting for us the next morning.
28 December. The crisp morning sun streamed through the windows, gently nudging me out of bed and into my running shoes. The streets of Coffs Harbour’s business district were already starting to stir as I set out for my morning run.
Like many Aussie towns, it offered a blend of charm and utility—park reserves and green spaces tucked between cafés, convenience stores, and heritage buildings that told stories of its past. What makes Coffs Harbour stand out, though, is its coastal beauty, with the beach just a stone’s throw from the city centre and family-friendly spots like the wildlife sanctuary nestled along the foreshore.
The intense summer sun quickly turned up the heat, prompting me to skip a detour to the jetty and make my way back to the hotel. By then, my companions were already moving about—some preparing breakfast, others loading the car in anticipation of the day’s next leg. The rhythm of travel had fully set in, blending quiet routines with spontaneous discoveries.
Later that morning, we retraced our route southward—about a 30-minute drive—to visit the picturesque Urunga Boardwalk, a detour we had deliberately saved for this day. Beginning in the quaint and quiet town of Urunga, the boardwalk winds its way along the banks of the Kalang River, meets the Bellinger River at the junction, and stretches all the way out toward the ocean.
The path offers panoramic views both inland—where the river valleys trace their way toward the Great Dividing Range—and outward to the vast, open sea.
Along the way, we spotted kangaroos nestled in the jungle on one side, a uniquely Australian contrast to the crashing waves and massive rock formations on the ocean-facing end. The boardwalk begins over shallow waters, which gradually deepen beneath your feet until the surf hits the rocks with a rhythmic force that’s both powerful and calming.
At its end, the boardwalk opens to a pristine beach where you can descend directly onto the sand—dog in tow if you’ve brought one. A well-kept caravan park marks the starting point of the walk, making this stretch of the coast feel not just scenic, but wonderfully lived in.
We spent a generous amount of time soaking in the beauty of the Urunga Boardwalk—walking its full length, taking photos, and simply pausing to admire the meeting point of river, forest, and sea. After a light bite to eat, we hit the road once again, this time heading north on a 2-hour and 40-minute drive to Ballina.
Back on the Pacific Highway—the mighty artery that spans nearly 800 kilometres between Sydney and Brisbane—we were reminded of its scale and importance. Today’s leg alone covered almost a third of that vast route. It made us even more grateful to have lingered in Urunga earlier in the day, as those serene, postcard-worthy views helped fuel us for the long but steady stretch ahead.
We reached Ballina Homestead Motel in the middle of the afternoon, arriving to a peaceful, quiet stretch of town that immediately put us at ease. The accommodation turned out to be a pleasant surprise—spacious, thoughtfully laid out, and with a homey atmosphere that sparked the idea of doing some Filipino home cooking.
With fresh ingredients picked up from nearby local shops, it didn’t take long before the kitchen was alive with the familiar sights and scents of home.
Later that day, we made our way to the nearby beachfront. The gentle breeze and golden hue of the late afternoon sun made it too inviting to resist—and so, after many failed attempts in the past, I finally took my first proper dip in the ocean since arriving in Australia.
The water, warmed by the summer sun, was just right. It felt like a quiet milestone. We ended the day gathered around a steaming pot of nilagang baboy, full from both the meal and the memories made, before calling it an early night.
29 December. By now, the rhythm of the trip had settled in—wake up, freshen up, and pack up. Day 4 came with a sense of familiarity and comfort, helped in no small part by the restful sleep and refreshing ocean dip the night before.
Our initial plan was to make a brief stop in Byron Bay, Australia’s bohemian coastal darling known for its celebrity residents and laid-back beach lifestyle. But as expected during this peak holiday period, the crowds had already begun to descend, and with parking often at a premium, we decided to skip the chaos and save Byron for another time.
Instead, we set our sights further north—and for the first time, Babes and I crossed into Queensland. The transition between states was subtle but noticeable. The road gently curved through lush hinterlands, dotted with banana plantations, macadamia farms, and sleepy rural towns.
Gone were the endless bush corridors of northern New South Wales; in their place emerged wider horizons and more tropical greenery. Traffic began to slow as we approached the state border—no longer just quiet country drives, but a shared road with fellow holidaymakers making their way into the Sunshine State. The sense of entering a new chapter of the road trip was palpable, and with it came a quiet thrill of exploration.
With time to spare before our scheduled check-in, we decided to take a leisurely city tour of the Gold Coast—a glittering skyline that instantly reminded me of Hong Kong, with its towering high-rises standing in contrast to sun-drenched beaches and holiday-themed attractions.
The city buzzed with a blend of energy and ease, a coastal metropolis designed for both thrill-seekers and laid-back wanderers. Despite the sticky summer humidity, a gentle breeze from the water made it bearable. We found a shaded spot at Broadwater Parklands, unfolded our trusty camping chairs, and settled in for a relaxing midday break. As we enjoyed our packed lunch, we watched jet skis zip across the inlet and paddleboarders gliding past—another moment where time felt like it had slowed just enough for us to take it all in.
We booked our stay at the Nightcap at Hinterland Hotel, nestled right beside the calm stretch of the Nerang River. After a quick nap and a chance to freshen up, we set off for a special afternoon visit to the Shrine of Our Lady Help of Christians in Marian Valley—about a 30-minute scenic drive west, passing through Defence reservation land and forested hills.
Founded by the Pauline Fathers in 1995, this peaceful monastery serves as a spiritual retreat and pilgrimage site. The main chapel, dedicated to the Black Madonna, is surrounded by a collection of smaller chapels built by pilgrims from different parts of the world, each honouring their own patron saints.
We joined a quiet mass, received bottles of holy water, and took time to explore the tranquil grounds, which reminded us of the Shrine of Our Lady of Mercy at Penrose Park in Berrima. With its retreat centre, Marian Valley offered more than just a religious visit—it was a serene escape tucked into the hinterlands.
Later that evening, after warming up with a hearty ramen dinner, we returned to the Gold Coast to experience it under a different light—literally. The city came alive with neon glows, bustling walkways, and late-night revelry. Unlike the typical Aussie towns that fall quiet after 5 p.m., the Gold Coast embraced the night, full of movement, laughter, and the pulse of holiday energy that seemed to dance on every corner.
30 December. Tito Jess gave us a call the night before, hoping we could extend our stay until the New Year to visit them in Brisbane. While the invite was tempting, our itinerary was fixed for just one night—yet it gave us a good excuse to plan a proper visit up north next time.
Today’s route would take us on an alternate path heading south, away from the coast and into the quieter, more rural interior of northern New South Wales. Our destination: Dangar Falls, roughly 380 kilometres away. Knowing the journey would be long, we made sure to stop at every roadside toilet we came across and took full advantage of the designated rest areas designed for weary travellers.
Many of these stops like the one in Dinjerra were lovingly maintained by volunteers offering free coffee, with shelves of second-hand books and board games for anyone needing a longer break.
Some travellers even took the opportunity to check under the hood or swap stories about alternate routes—adding a sense of camaraderie to the long drive through these sleepy, charming towns.
We eventually reached Dangar Falls in Dorrigo, NSW—a scenic 30-metre waterfall nestled amidst rolling farmland and lush greenery. The area was alive with families making the most of the walking trails, picnic spots, and nearby shops.
While the view was breathtaking and the surroundings serene, one uninvited element disrupted the peace: aggressive summer flies that seemed unique to this part of the trip. After a short visit and a few swats too many, we found a quiet roadside shed and decided it was the perfect spot to pause for lunch and escape the buzz—literally.
From there, we retraced our way back to Grafton, cruising through tranquil landscapes dotted with solitary farmhouses, grazing cattle, and endless farmland stretching to the horizon. The golden light of late afternoon accompanied us as we pulled into Victoria Street Apartments—our stop for the night.
Spacious, well-equipped, and comfortably furnished, it quickly became our favourite accommodation of the entire trip. With generous bedrooms, a full kitchen, and ample fridge space, it gave us the chance to do a much-needed laundry run and replenish our supplies, getting ready for the final stretch of our journey.
After settling in, we took a quiet walk around the neighbourhood, soaking in the calm atmosphere of Grafton. It felt as though the townspeople had left for their own holiday getaways—streets were hushed, shops sparsely visited, and a stillness hung in the air that only added to the charm.
Grafton revealed itself as a peaceful community, dotted with heritage buildings that hinted at its rich past. We passed the local hospital, a modest racecourse, and the well-known Jacaranda Park—though not in full bloom this time of year, its towering trees still cast a graceful silhouette against the summer sky, reminding us why this town holds a special place during the flowering season.
31 December. On the final day of 2024, we found ourselves preparing to welcome the new year not in one place, but on the road—still in motion, still exploring. Our destination was Forster, a picturesque coastal town renowned for its crystal-clear beaches, calm lakes, and proximity to several national parks—an ideal setting to reflect on the year that was and embrace what was to come.
The 337-kilometre drive south took us along familiar roads we’d travelled just days earlier. This time, we retired the now-overplayed new wave playlist and explored other music genres to break the monotony.
Seated in the back, I gradually drifted off to sleep, lulled by the hum of the car and the soft rhythm of the radio. While we aimed to keep Tito Jing engaged with light conversation to help him stay alert behind the wheel, he reassured us with his calm presence and steady hands—always dependable, always confident. “You rest,” he would say, “I’ve got this.” And we trusted him.
After a few celebratory bottles of beer the night before, I turned in for the night feeling light-headed but content. When I woke up on New Year’s Day, I was relieved to have had a solid sleep—despite the tight quarters of our accommodation, it proved perfectly situated and functional for our needs.
I took the morning to wander around Forster and neighbouring Tuncurry, discovering a coastal charm reminiscent of Manly Beach. The area buzzed with tourists lured by its seafood, surf, and laid-back holiday vibe.
Forster’s location and natural beauty make it an ideal stop along the Mid North Coast, even in a state spoiled with countless beach towns. We heard New Year’s Day Mass at Holy Name of Jesus Parish, conveniently located near Forster Beach, where we enjoyed a refreshing dip before heading back for lunch—mostly a delicious encore of leftovers from the night before—then packed up once again to continue our journey homeward.
1 January. It’s home sweet home at last. After a week of living out of our bags and sleeping on a rotating cast of beds, we were finally on our way back to the comfort of our own pillows. We left Forster just after 2 p.m., making a brief detour through Newcastle for one last stroll by the beach.
As I felt the sun’s warmth on my skin, I couldn’t help but wonder how many shades darker I’d become—but I didn’t mind. A suntan has become my badge of honour during office shutdowns, whether from road trips like this or solo runs and hikes in unfamiliar places.
We capped off the evening with a hearty Thai dinner, a warm and satisfying end to our adventure-filled holiday. As we made our way back to Sydney for the final leg before our big move to Adelaide, I reflected on what the past few days had taught me.
That even in the midst of long drives and tight schedules, there is immense joy in the small moments: sunset meals, random chats on the road, surprise detours, and laughter under fireworks. It reminded me that beginnings don’t always need to be loud or dramatic.
Sometimes, they start quietly—like a sunrise drive on New Year’s Day—with your heart full, your mind at peace, and your loved ones just within reach.
I was told that people travel not to spend money on frivolous adventures, but to buy memories they’ll remember for a lifetime. This is certainly one of those.
What we learned along the way:
- Supermarkets are gold – Regular pit stops to stock up on food helped us enjoy meals wherever we stayed, especially at rentals with kitchens and public BBQ parks.
- Pack a picnic kit – A cooler, blanket, and basic utensils turned road shoulder stops and shaded parks into easy mealtime spots.
- Keep your music ready – With a playlist filled with Depeche Mode, New Order, and Blondie, even the longest stretches of road felt cinematic and nostalgic.
- Balance beach and bush – The contrast between Ballina’s ocean dip and Dorrigo’s inland waterfalls made for a refreshing, balanced itinerary.
- Don’t over-plan – Spontaneous discoveries like random picnic places, unhurried sunsets, and slow walks through towns like Grafton often became the most memorable.