Shoal Bay: Sun, surf and slot machines
Friday 10, January
After a successful initial four days in Sydney, it was time for Ol and I to start our drive up the Central coast, past Newcastle and into Shoal Bay. Essentially Ol and I had planted ourselves right in the middle of a couples’ getaway with Becky and Dom, and Aimee and Ollie hoping for some quality time. Happy to ignore this, we jumped in our car and commenced our two-and-a -half-hour journey north from Sydney. Driving through Sydney is no joke. I wasn’t prepared for the complex road layouts, toll roads and confusing signage. I think my nervousness showed as I kept flicking the windscreen wipers on when trying to indicate left, which was all to Ol’s amusement of course.
Turns out Aimee and Ollie (right of me in the surf school pic) were also driving down from the Central Coast with a similar length drive. Naturally, we entered into a bit of a race, one car coming from the north and the other the south. Alas, our little Kia Picanto was no match for their Kia SUV. As we turned into the Airbnb garage there they were getting out of their car, smug faces to boot.
Now that the six of us were here (Becky and Dom included - left of me), I couldn’t help but get a little giddy - what were we doing all the way over here on this little peninsula on the other side of the world?
Having settled into the flat (where Ol and I squeezed into the bunk-bed room), there was some ambitious chatter about going on a hike around Tomaree Head Summit. But the 29-degree heat firmly put a dent in that plan and we decided to take a very short stroll over to one of the nearest coves.
We arrived at Zenith Beach (pictured) and it looked like what I imagine Brazil looks like. A huge stretch of soft sand surrounded by plush tropical hills. We pretty much had the beach to ourselves and felt confident enough to sneak a few plastic cups worth of rosé from a cooler bag (the Aussies are pretty strict about drinking on beaches, understandably). The water was incredibly clear and the best I have swum in so far.
The next day we jumped in the car to travel to Port Stephens for a surfing lesson. A little hungover from the night before we donned our surfing attire - the question is, is it possible to look cool in a surfing top? Walking down to the beach our instructor informed us that the conditions were perfect, perfect for a bunch of out-of-town beginners anyway. I have to say we all surfed well, consistently getting up on our foam boards and riding them to shore, although Aimee did need a little push from the instructor now and then (sorry Aimee). Unfortunately there is no evidence of us riding these waves as Ol, designated photographer due to his knee injury, ‘forgot’ to take any photos whilst we were in the sea!
After the surfing lesson, we grabbed some lunch at the beach cafe where we forced ourselves to watch Australia score the final few runs of the fifth and final Ashes Test at Sydney Cricket Ground to win the series. It was a painful watch and as soon as Cameron Green scored that final run we jumped up from our plastic cafe chairs and found a table outside, not a flicker of a smile between us. It was made worse by a couple of cheers from the Aussie locals inside the cafe too.
Outside, Ol and I cheered ourselves up by playing ‘Lady & the tramp’ for the last chip. Maybe it was the desire for the last chip, the need for some entertainment, or the ‘couples energy’ of the trip rubbing off on us. Either way, it was clear we had spent too much time together.
Later that evening we went for a meal at Atmos, a Greek restaurant that you’d expect to see in Mykonos, but also the only establishment that wasn’t a pizza or kebab shop in Shoal Bay. It did exceed expectations, however, and after a few drinks here, followed by a windy photo on the pier (see pic), we stumbled next door to Shoal Bay Country Club. Having visited this ‘club’ the previous night, the cheesy tunes and uncomfortable ‘locals-only’ vibe curtailed our evening fairly quickly. Before long, we were spending the last of our Aussie dollars ($20 to be exact) in the slot machines at the end of night, nothing spells the end of the night more than a brightly-lit casino. When we had lost all our money, we trudged back up the hill to our Airbnb, lamenting the fact we were all parting ways the next day.
