Byron Bay

A white lighthouse from 1901, with a marker set at the point below it for the easternmost tip of the mainland. Wind never lets up on the slope in front, so the trees lean one way. Parking is tight, and many people walk up from the village.

A rare east-coast beach that faces north, so sun holds on it well into the afternoon, and the headland softens the swell, which is why beginners come. Lifeguards are on it only in summer, and once that ends no flags go up.

Ten minutes offshore, two rocks break the surface. A warm current meets a cold one here, so southern and northern fish mix, and in summer leopard sharks gather on the sand below. The whole area is a marine park: no fishing, only diving and snorkelling.

The loop from the village to the lighthouse falls into three stretches. Sand first, then dense rainforest, then grass flattened by wind. Koalas show themselves in the rainforest stretch, and you hear one before you look up. Two hours or so covers the circuit.

The water is as dark as strong tea, and it is not silt but oil and colour leached from the tea trees around it. The sea is less than a hundred metres away, so many people come straight out of the salt and rinse off in it.

Take a surf lesson in the morning. The wind gets up in the afternoon and breaks the shape of the waves. The village shops open onto sand, and the bottom is sand all through, so you step out of a shop into the water and a fall does no harm.

It runs on Thursday mornings only, and the growers stand behind their own stalls. Nothing from outside the district is admitted, so in winter the number of stalls halves. Past ten the leftovers start going by the box.

A river-mouth village twenty minutes north of Byron where fishing boats pass under the bridge, and the river side is calmer than the sea, so children swim there instead. The shops run for a single block and the walk is over quickly.

The plug of an old volcano. What surrounds it is the collapsed rim. Long climbed as where the mainland's first morning light lands, it is held sacred by the Bundjalung people and the summit track is shut. The peak shows from anywhere in the valley.

The cape reaches far enough out that the whales pass near it. In June and July they head north; from September to November they come back south with calves. Spouts show from the lighthouse hill unaided, and boats drop a microphone to listen underwater.

Falls dropping off a volcanic cliff into a rainforest gorge in Nightcap National Park, inland. The upper lookout sits a few paces from where you park; the loop to the plunge pool fills half a day. Dry spells thin the flow, so go a few days after heavy rain.

A small village 15 minutes inland from Byron, its old timber shopfronts lined along a single main road. Away from the beach crowds, cafe and bakery queues stay short. On the monthly market day the village sportsground fills with stalls.

A long beach running several kilometres south of Cape Byron, backed by the bush of Arakwal National Park. Main Beach gets the crowds while this one stays empty, but no lifeguards patrol and rips run strong. Better for walking or sitting than swimming.

A hill village where hippies stayed on after the 1973 Aquarius Festival of the counterculture. Shops painted with rainbow murals crowd its one main street. It is an hour-plus drive inland from Byron, easy as a day trip.

A surf break just under the Cape Byron headland, where waves peel along the point for a long ride. Longboarders line up waiting their turn, and many people watch from the rocks. Parking is scarce, the few spaces taken early in the morning.