There are places you become aware of through a kind of cultural osmosis. For anyone who has ever dabbled with the grazed knees and tweaked shoulders of a surfer's life, Noosa on Queensland's Sunshine Coast is one such place. And that's how we found ourselves heading out of Brisbane one Friday evening on a hippy quest.
Back in the 60s, it was accessible only by dirt road, with limited amenities and fewer people – where the pristine natural environment drew the soul surfers. Noosa had been morphing through different identities for 40,000 years since the Kabi tribe used it as a sacred retreat – everything from a logging town to a gold-mining centre. But as the surfers arrived, a mystique developed around Noosa's five beach surf breaks, which coupled with its strong spiritual heritage to create an enclave of hippiedom – a seemingly remote outpost of simple living.
It didn't last. News of Noosa's beautiful environment spread and as transport improved people swarmed to the town for weekends away. From a dirt road in the 60s, Hastings Street has developed into a strip of boutiques and restaurants serving the luxury apartments that have mushroomed along the Noosa River inlet. The hippy vibe has given way to glitz – Richard Branson's A$7m (£6.5m) retreat Makepeace Island is just one of many plush properties.
But we wanted the hippy experience, so here we were 20 minutes outside Noosa Heads on a deserted forest road, wrestling with a spider the size of a human head which had dropped through the car window. Noosa North Shore campground is a two-minute ferry ride across the Noosa River. You drive to the bottom of Beach Road and arrive at the spectacular campsite. Look right and, through the sea spray, you can just make out the bay, behind which sit 4,000 acres of pristine national park. Look left, and all you've got is empty beach stretching 60km up to Double Island Point.
The name Noosa derives from the Aboriginal word "noothera" meaning shadow, in reference to the tall forests which offer respite from the subtropical sun. We sought shelter under their branches, pitching our tent in a shady spot a few steps from the sea. We cooked curry on the stove, watched the sky turn violet while the waves foamed and in the morning we dodged jellyfish for a deserted dawn swim only to find a couple of kangaroos hopping around the tent on our return. Wild koalas populated the trees and large lizards wandered along the sandy paths.
"In Noosa you can be out there in the ocean and not see one building," local yoga teacher Natasha Patten told us. "The development has been intelligently done to preserve that 'soulful surfer vibe'. At sunset you can see a lone turtle pop its head out of the water, breathe in the salty air, and be in awe of the beauty that surrounds you."
We decided to test our surf legs at Sunshine Beach, just south of Noosa bay. We struggled with the dumping waves, tasting far too much sand and not enough surf. Our egos suitably crushed, we later sipped beers and ate burgers on the deck of the Sunshine Beach Surf Lifesaving Club. It's a slice of no-nonsense Australia with epic views in a town where a plate of pasta requires a bottle of red to wash down the shock of the price.
"It's nature more than anything man-made that defines Noosa," said Tim Crabtree, who runs Noosa Longboards, a shop which specialises in boards over 9ft long which are suited to Noosa's mellow waves. "The surf scene here is embraced by all walks of life." Tim's parked 1964 Ford Woody Wagon, complete with longboard on the roof, was a little snapshot of the way things used to be, provoking a quick pang of longing to turn back the clock.
On the other SIDE of Double Island Point lies Rainbow Beach, accessible on foot from Noosa via the 102km Cooloola Great Walk. It too has decent surf – on a good day the right-hander can roll up to 500m – but Rainbow Beach is a bit further up the coast and that little bit more inaccessible, and so has missed out on Noosa's weekender traffic. The town lies at the end of a 70km detour from the main highway – one way in, one way out – and this road has existed only since 1969, before which access was via boat from Tin Can Bay.
But for a brief moment in time – long enough for "Noosa people" to build a large bar and restaurant in the centre of town – Rainbow teetered on the edge of becoming the new Noosa.
"Rainbow is limited in size because it's surrounded by national parks," says Jenny Jarvis, who runs the Mia Mia B&B with her husband John. "Good for us but not the economy."
The couple arrived in Rainbow in 2000 after three years travelling around Australia. It took John 14 months to build the property himself, gradually adding features such as fire pits, decks and an infinity pool which looks over the back garden forest. He's the kind of capable Aussie man who laughs in your face when you mention a spider in your car. We dined on the lobster-like Moreton Bay Bugs that John's neighbour had caught earlier in the day. Staying at Mia Mia was homely and cosy and very authentic.
The beach itself, with its multicoloured sands, is a remarkable sight. According to Aboriginal legend, Yiningie, the spirit of the gods who is represented by a rainbow, was thrown into the sand cliffs in a fight over a woman, scattering his colours across them. The scientific explanation of rare mineral deposits is slightly less poetic, but the action of sitting still and drawing circles in the sand, revealing different layers of colour as you go, is still mesmeric whatever you believe.
Maybe Rainbow will never be the new Noosa, but you get the feeling it could be the old Noosa.
Essentials
British Airways (britishairways.com) flies Heathrow to Singapore then connects Singapore to Brisbane on Qantas from £1,063 return, including taxes. Noosa North Shore campground (sunshinecoastholidayparks. com.au) from A$24 (£15). Mia Mia B&B (miamia.spiderweb.com.au) has doubles from A$160 per night (£105), including breakfast
