Our stay at Broken Head was quite idyllic as the caravan park was set into a temperate rainforest and faced directly onto a magnificent 7km beach. Neither Shirl nor I are surfers, but even our non expert eyes could tell that it was a surfing ‘hot spot’. Each day the car park near the caravan park entrance was filled from dawn to dusk. We were somewhat bemused by the preponderance of bald and/or grey heads among the board riders. Age and experience had clearly drawn them to this spot – or maybe it was the other 50% who were wearing bikinis.
Just 7km up the road at Byron Bay, the bikinis outnumbered all others combined. I’m sure that the average age would struggle to go over 25.
Of greater difficulty were the kangaroos – road-kill roos. Clearly the nightly truck traffic has an impact (pun intended) among the roo population. We stopped counting well over 100 (plus a few pigs). Many of these carcases are lying right in the middle of the road such that you must veer onto the opposite side of the road to get around them. Murphy’s Law says that this is the exact moment another truck will be approaching – bugger.
Now at Charleville.