My sleepy childhood holiday town is now a place for millionaires

OpinionIn this series, My Happy Place, our writers reflect on the holiday destinations in Australia and around the world that they cherish the most.Travel writerSeptember 3, 2026 — 5:00amSeptember 3, 2026 — 5:00amWhenever I find myself enamoured by a destination, I tend to hover outside real estate windows, eyeing up available property and questioning whether I could see myself living there permanently. That little log cabin in the woods in the intriguingly named Story, Wyoming, almost had me; then there was that Juliet-balconied apartment overlooking a cobbled laneway in Bellagio, Lake Como.Beachfront properties in Hawks Nest now sell for up to $3 million.Destination NSWFor my father, temptation came in the form of a beachfront block at Hawks Nest on the NSW Mid-Coast, our family’s favourite summer holiday destination in the mid-1970s. During a scout around the newly developed Winda Woppa housing estate in 1976, he happened upon a beachfront block on The Boulevarde, overlooking the white sands of Jimmys Beach. It was for sale for the princely sum of $7000.“Buy it, buy it!” we three kids shouted from the back seat of the Holden Premier, the potential transaction no more complicated than the purchase of a Paddle Pop. Even my mother seemed keen, visions of a glamorous seaside holiday home competing with her innate unpretentiousness.My father, however, was a conservative man who believed that the bank was where money was wisely invested; property was a risky prospect best avoided. Although sorely tempted (and harangued by his children), he eventually declared the land too expensive, and not a safe enough financial bet.Oh, Dad …Sign up for the Traveller Deals newsletterGet exclusive travel deals delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up now.We never did forgive our father for this decision; and, 50 years on, my siblings and I still lament his lack of foresight, with waterfront properties in Hawks Nest now worth up to $3 million.The author enjoying the beach at Hawks Nest during her childhood. The concept of an annual holiday was a relatively new one for our family in 1973, when we first joined the queue for the dinky vehicle ferry that then putt-putted across the Myall River from Tea Gardens to the otherwise isolated peninsula of Hawks Nest that formed the northern entrance to Port Stephens.The owner of a suburban newsagency, my father worked seven days a week, refusing to take time off for the first 15 years of marriage until my mother finally put her foot down in 1970 and booked a cruise to Fiji, followed by a second cruise in 1972. Workaholism finally contained, a week’s break each year then became mandatory, with short road trips beyond Newcastle to the golden shores of Hawks Nest a more realistic and achievable venture than overseas jaunts.Not that we were slumming it by holidaying in our own backyard. Our accommodation of choice was a spiffing new motel, Hawks Nest Lodge, opened in 1972 and located just one block from the beach.We thought we were pretty fancy-pants in our swish digs, lording it over kids we befriended from the caravan park across the road, who had to slum it in tents while we dive-bombed into a swimming pool metres from our room.Hawks Nest Lodge, circa 2002. Myall River.Destination NSWI recall we were the only kids staying in the Lodge that first year; and Dad soon regretted booking a poolside apartment, complaining that our noisy antics were ruining his chances of a sleep-in.But the great Australian holiday is more about salt and sand than chlorine. While the pool was perfect for a quick dip, it was the glorious, 11-kilometre Bennetts Beach – the official name for the patrolled surf beach at Hawks Nest – that lured us for long and lazy days in the sun as we played in the shallows, learnt to bodysurf, built castles on the shoreline or worked on our tans (this was the ’70s, after all!).Bennetts Beach: glorious.Destination NSWMornings were often spent strolling along the spit to the base of the imposing Yacaaba Headland; once, we even tackled the steep and rocky climb to its peak, an arduous, sweaty hike rewarded with spectacular views over Port Stephens and the Myall Lakes National Park.As the tide retreated we’d dig our toes in the squishy sand, searching for pipis, which would be threaded onto a line in our first attempts at beach fishing. We also hired horses from stables next to the caravan park, riding through sandy dunes and along the shore in glorious barefoot and unhelmeted abandon. On one ride my little grey pony decided to take a dip, dunking me under a breaker; on another occasion my brother’s horse rolled in the sand without warning, tossing him off with a soft landing before proceeding to ruin its saddle.For my mother these short breaks were a welcome holiday from the kitchen; and with Hawks Nest Lodge having its own on-site restaurant, dinner was always worth dressing up for. We also spent several nights dining at Tea Gardens’ legendary Tillermans – still the longest continually operating restaurant on NSW’s North Coast. Then owned by an American (perhaps the first we’d ever met, how exotic!), this waterfront eatery was the height of sophistication; my mum was so impressed by its Singer sewing machine tables that she went antique shopping and created her own after she returned home.With the waterfront land rejected as an investment, our family holidays at Hawks Nest ceased after 1976, for reasons I really can’t remember. But more than 20 years later the town suddenly gained notoriety when it was revealed that it was the favourite holiday destination of then-prime minister John Howard, who had spent the past 19 years staying at our very own Hawks Nest Lodge.After intense media scrutiny, however, the Howards also abandoned Hawks Nest’s golden shores, with Janette Howard stating in the book John Winston Howard: The Definitive Biography that “it just became very unpleasant”.Apparently, the Howards made a welcome return to Hawks Nest after he lost the election in 2007, once again able to enjoy the “bowls and barbie” lifestyle that he’d so loved during his years of anonymity.Totally understandable, Mr Howard – just note that we found it first.From our partners