Byron Bay

The sun rises above the horizon, spilling gold across the sea and over the hundreds of pilgrims gathered at the Byron lighthouse. A middle-aged Italian man begins singing the opening lines of My Girl by The Temptations. Not an obvious soundtrack for a warm, cloud-free January morning, but a welcome one nonetheless.

Long before the sun appears, the streets are already alive. People of all ages run, walk and cycle through the quiet roads. 

Good weather and beautiful surroundings help make living this way, but a week of this routine left me feeling noticeably more energised, more positive and sleeping better too.

Beyond the beach, quiet, tree-lined streets give way to weatherboard houses, all timber and verandas. Cafés and bakeries are in abundance but without the pretence of back home. Simply serving excellent coffee and outrageously good pastries to people still in flip-flops or running gear.

At the beach, small children, older men, young women and the archetypal surfer bro all share the waves. Surfing is everywhere, but with a far broader cast than expected.

However, it is nature that steals the show. Tropical birds make sounds you usually only hear in David Attenborough documentaries. Koalas sleep through the excitement of tourists trying to catch a glimpse of them in the trees above. Dolphins and whales are visible from the coastal path, in turquoise water. Even a tree snake pops out to say “hello” as we check in to our Airbnb.

By the time we leave Byron Bay, waking early no longer feels virtuous or productive. It simply feels as though this is how days are meant to begin and life is meant to be lived.