WHEN A HOLIDAY BECOMES A HOME

I’ve travelled all over Byron as a tourist.

At least, that’s what I thought before I moved here.

There’s something about walking around town feeling like a local. Grabbing an overpriced

coffee, letting the sun hit your face, breathing in salt carried off the ocean. It gets under your

skin, and it stays there longer than planned.

But when you actually move here, you start looking at the place through a different lens. Byron

Stops being the destination and becomes just one town among many in the Northern Rivers.

And once you see that, you realise the real experience isn’t contained to one postcode.

Melbourne, my hometown, is still close to my heart. The food. The coffee snobs. A wine bar on

every corner and a culture so thick you could lean on it.

These towns are completely different. Some days it feels like I’m living inside an episode of

Home and Away. Like this is the version of Australia the rest of the world imagines.

Coming here on holiday usually means staying in the middle of Byron town, spending your days

on Main Beach, and eating at expensive restaurants shoulder to shoulder with everyone else

who had the same idea. I used to.

After twelve months of living here, this is what I’ve learned: summer doesn’t start in December

and end in February. It creeps in during spring and lingers until April. There’s time. You don’t

need to arrive in the middle of January with the rest of the chaos to get what you came for.

What you do need is a car.

Drive to Brunswick Heads and swim in the crystal-clear river at high tide. Go to the Bangalow

farmers' market on a Saturday morning (and eat the gyozas). Track to Lennox for a local natural

wine at Smokey’s. Jump in the tea tree lake while you’re there & watch the sunset. Head out to

the Eltham pub on a Sunday for live music and a proper pub feed.

Explore, eat, swim, listen, breathe, repeat.

Let this be an inspiration to find your own hidden treasure in the Northern Rivers. They are

Waiting for you.