Bridie was happy to be on the beach at Brunswick Heads as it was an off-leash area.
She could check out every single bit of flotsam.
As well as run herself completely silly.
It was another glorious afternoon for everyone.
After a lunch of fish and chips (what else), we visited the beach. Looking to the south, you can see Cape Byron looming. Unlike Cape Byron, there was hardly anyone to be seen.
Like the evening before, the swell was definitely up, producing some spectacular waves.
Not surprisingly, there was a bit of flotsam on the beach, most noticeably (for a geologist anyway) pumice stones. There were some big chunkers high up on the beach. Someone thought that they would make a good sculpture.
Hubby thinks these might have been washed in from a recent volcanic eruption in the South Pacific, perhaps all the way from Vanuatu.
Up the road from Byron, and a thousand miles away in every other respect, is Brunswick Heads. It’s a quiet fishing village that perhaps Byron was aeons ago.
As you can see, there were no crowds here, and the shops were gentrified, but not too extensive.
There were some local touches, like this mural in the park.
The pub though was very grand, indicating that it’s been a spot popular with holidaymakers for a long while. Or perhaps of a very successful fishing industry in times gone by?
As someone who likes to photograph the outdoors, I often have to make the best of what’s on offer. Much of the time it’s not ideal, whether due to time of day/light conditions/weather/wrong position/difficult subject matter. That’s why I get really excited when everything aligns, like it did that afternoon on Belongil Beach. The light was absolutely perfect for photography, whether it be photographing a surfer and the waves.
Or a fisherman casting a line into the misty surf.
Just when you think it doesn’t get any better, the light changes, and the same view becomes even more beautiful.
Sometimes I wish that moments like this would have more often, but then you wouldn’t quite appreciate it in the same way, would you?
I would have to say that Byron Bay is a town that has been loved to death. It is a beach town that has grown into a tourist mecca, minus the high rises. The shopping strip in particular is amazingly long and traffic-jammed any day or night. We came in winter and (slightly) out of festival time. I’d hate to think what it would be like in festival time or in mid-summer. A shame when the town’s setting is spectacular.
Belongil Beach at least was a good kilometre or two out of town. There are still condos here, but no crowds as the sun, sea and sky put on its final show for the day.
And just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, it did.
Bridie was certainly happy to be at Byron Bay. She had the run of the house, and mild, almost tropical temperatures meant that she could sunbathe once again.
She was even happier to be taken to the dog-friendly Belongil Beach. The North Coast towns seemed really good that way – each town seemed to have its share of off-leash beach areas.
She took advantage of the open spaces and did what she did best – explore the scents.
She even got friendly with this old Labrador Retriever, somewhat a rare occurence for her since she isn’t the most social of dogs, usually only tolerating a doggy ‘hello’.
After exploring the Granite Belt, we backtracked to Tenterfield, and then down the Bruxner Highway towards the Far North Coast. The first hour or two were doozies, with the road twisting this way and that down the plateau. This is one of the straighter bits.
After the village of Drake, the road straightened a little bit as it wound its way down the foothills, and the temperature was at least 5C warmer than the tablelands. Past Mallanganee, we saw the icon of the region, Mount Warning, on the horizon.
We travelled through the Northern Rivers towns of Casino, Lismore, and Bangalow, to the tourist mecca beach town of Byron Bay. Luckily, we had this little oasis to ourselves.