Mid-North Coast and Northern Rivers
The last several kilometres of the "Waterfall Way", which we'd been following since Armidale, took us winding down from the plateau through forests and past more waterfalls. We opted not to stop in the beautiful and popular town of Bellingen. Sometimes, when the kids are happy in the car, it's not worth upsetting the apple cart. Instead we stopped at the coastal town of Urunga.
We crossed the Bellinger and Kalang rivers as we entered Urunga and I was astounded at how big they were. How could I have never heard of two such large sweeping rivers? But the fact is, rivers are a dime a dozen over this way. We’re a far cry from the dry climes of South Australia, where we deign to call the Torrens a River. In Urunga, which was already busy with school holiday crowds and weekend traffic, we walked out along the boardwalk past mangroves and the tidal fed confluence of the two mighty rivers.
For three nights we bunkered down at the Coffs Leagues Club in Coffs Harbour. We had a week and only 200km before a planned house sit in Alstonville, so we had time on our hands. With rain on the horizon and waning enthusiasm for living out of a camper trailer, a week felt like a long time. The Leagues Club was nothing special, but the camp kitchen in a shed offered shelter and the perks of a microwave and toaster. The kids also got a field-side taste of rugby league training, a privilege of being camped literally on the side of the pitch.
We had time to enjoy the beach at Sawtell, including a dip in the Memorial Rock Pool before rain hit on our first evening.
In Coffs we scoured the charity shops and walked the breakwater out to mutton bird island. Despite forecast rain, the sun came out in force, so we enjoyed hot chips and ice-creams before wandering through the botanic gardens and then getting some snaps of the Big Banana.
We sampled some of the tastiest fresh bananas from a roadside stall. I think they might have been Ducasse or Sugar Bananas; a refreshing change from the standard Cavendish. After admiring the view from the Forest Sky Pier and agreeing we could have been in Martinique or Saint Lucia, we ventured into the dense damp forest for a short walk. An hour later we were stripped down to our undies in the carpark searching for unwanted leeches. I had never seen them so bad. The whole walk we battled to keep them off us as they danced on our shoes and brushed off leaves onto our clothing. The kids thought they were great, actively picking them up and carrying them as pets.
We moved on to a safer leech free lunch spot at a local beach then visited the excellent Carobana carob factory for a bit of sweetness in the afternoon. I walked out with an armful of produce after sampling my way around the shop. Finally we stopped in at the quirky Clog Barn which boasted a miniature Dutch city, hundreds of clogs and a Percy and Thomas railway line.
Leaving Coffs and headed for Grafton we stopped up the coast for a blustery walk around Look At Me Now Headland where a big mob of grey kangaroos had set up permanent residence.
Grafton represented one of life's sliding doors moments for Matthias as a town he almost moved to for work. Our brief look around helped reassure him that he'd chosen the right path all those years ago. We moved on, following the wide brown Clarence River into sugarcane country. Our camp for the next two nights was on a private block of mown grass looking over the river to Maclean. The owner's very friendly Jack Russell and Blue Heeler-Border Collie cross dogs came to visit, seeking and receiving much love and attention from the kids.
The school holidays were in full swing in Yamba. With golden beaches, good surf, rock pools, a great cafe scene and the beautiful Clarence River fanning out as it flows to the ocean, it was easy to see why Yamba is a favourite spot. I, however, was frustrated by the groundhog day feeling of another lookout, another beach, another playground, and dealing with the demands of whinging children. The gloss of travelling is wearing off. I tried to restore my zen with a solo walk out to an unremarkable headland. I had more success watching the kids' joy as they swam in the beach-side pool.
The Angourie freshwater pools were also a refreshing detour that helped lift my spirits. We watched kids launch themselves off the cliff edge into the old quarry swimming hole of the blue pool. Hugh and Matthias swam in the quieter green pool. Brahminy kites and sea eagles soared overhead. That evening at camp the kids' day was topped with a visit from Biscuit the pony and more doggy loving.
Matthias and the kids went for a morning swim in the Clarence, debunking the illusion of a deep fast flowing river. It was muddy and knee deep for a good 10m out. We were curious to drive through Maclean whose blinking lights had looked so pretty from across the river at night. The village was gearing up for their 118th annual Highland Gathering, which we were unlucky to miss by a day.
Only one night away from having a solid roof over our heads, we stopped in at Lismore. Ask nearly any Australian and I'm sure they'd remember Lismore for the devastating floods the town suffered in 2022 (and a few more in years prior). We of course had been living under a rock last year and judged the town harshly as a rundown struggling backwater. It wasn't until we went out for dinner that night and noticed all the giant love heart flags on the front of buildings. The penny finally dropped. I googled "Lismore floods" and my screen was swamped with images of the very streets we were driving through, flooded under four metres of muddy brown water. It was unbelievable that the town was still there at all. Almost exactly a year ago to the day, our Indian restaurant would have been under water.
