The ultimate way to explore Byron Bay Hinterland

While a balmy beach holiday is absolutely a must for one end of your trip to Australia’s most Easterly point, getting outdoors in Byron Bay’s Hinterland will plunge you into an entirely new side of the Instagrammable region, and I can assure you it will be an experience like no other.

I recently spent three days camping amid the rolling hills just an hour south of Gold Coast airport and I discovered a hidden gem, experienced some brilliant camping hacks, and learnt secrets about the region that I might never have known.

Driving through the Hinterland, I fell straight into holiday relaxation mode. Spring has the trees bursting with lush growth, and there is a distinct show of farmland meeting the tropics, until the deciduous trees are unrecognisable from the flowery vines.

Towns petered out, leaving only the occasional house, until I was on an unsealed road with no one else in sight.

I toyed between fear and giddy pleasure that no one would find me, and 4G bars dwindled on my phone until they fell to nothing but SOS only. Then it was just me and my fellow campers, planted within the rainforest that asks nothing of you but to be refreshed.

I camped near Nightcap National Park, about a 50-minute drive from Byron Bay. Where I stayed was not a public campground, but some nearby spots where you could pitch a tent are Rummery Park Campground, or Nimbin Caravan Park, if you like being a little closer to civilisation.

I’d grown up camping as a child, but my memories of setting up a tent mostly include standing idly while my dad instructed me and my siblings to thread each fiddly pole through parts of the tent — a task that often resulted in someone being jabbed with a pole and another giving up completely after doing it wrong too many times (me).

But Dometic’s 2x4 Santorini Tent used a hack I hadn’t seen before — inflatable beams instead of poles. This made it a super easy set up, simply pegging the tent into the ground around the edges, then inflating it in three spots with a battery-powered air pump. Within ten minutes, my little rainforest home was up and I was a happy camper. (No tent-pole drama required).

Next thing I knew, the sun was going down and I braved a cold shower before enjoying curry cooked over the open fire for dinner. Then I waved my lantern around to check for leeches (the one downside to the stunning region), and snuggled up in my camping cocoon for a night among the croaking frogs, zapping cicadas and vibrant hum of the rainforest. It made a symphony amid the dark and I slept like a baby.

The next morning I discovered gleefully that my tent had not leaked despite the night’s rainfall, though there was one leech that had evidently hitchhiked in via my shoe and was now watching me from the tent wall. He or she was swiftly plucked off and flicked outside.

Soon, the fire was started and a cup of tea warmed me from the inside out. The cold was not what I expected for Northern NSW, and it shook me to realise that we were no longer in balmy Byron Bay. This was the Hinterland. Fresher, crisper, and a little harsher — in all the best ways.

Later I set off, soaked in sunscreen and insect repellent to hike the Blue Fig Trail. The walk was full of diversity, with tall gum trees on one side, and thick, wild rainforest on the other.

After walking for a few kilometres, our group came to a stunning waterfall. The nearby Byron Bay classic, Minyon Falls, had been notoriously closed for some time, so I hadn’t set my hopes on seeing a waterfall, making this all the more of a stellar discovery. Huge stones hosted streams of water that splashed down each one, falling further and further until it made a stunning bubbling pool at the bottom. I explored the rocks, took a million photos and then sat by the water to devour a picnic lunch kept fresh in my bag and mini cooler.

Later, back at camp, I had the privilege of meeting Gilbert Laurie, an Aboriginal teacher and artist from the local Bundjalung land, who performed a smoking ceremony for our group. He spoke of hunting and gathering, of the rainforest as his ‘chemist’ and the bush as his ‘Woolies and Aldi’. He explained that this was the women’s land, that these valleys and waterways were once birthing places, and the vibrant sense of life was made clear. This place was life-giving, and matronly power shone through it.

For our last night, our group enjoyed a fancy dinner by the dam. We sat in our folding chairs at bamboo camp tables adorned with greenery from the bush. We drank wine from our colourful tumblers and enjoyed potatoes, barramundi and prawns cooked over the fire. Thanks to a hot connection between a solar panel, a battery pack and a huge fridge, seafood on night two was yummy and fresh as ever and blissfully free of any food-poisoning fears.

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S’mores were next, as someone played guitar and chatter flowed endlessly. The blackened sky glittered with stars, shining in full view without city lights to drown them out. It was stunning and ridiculously relaxing, with nothing but a few leeches to complain about.

While you might feel a little filthy on the way home, camping in the Hinterland is bound to fill your soul. Byron Bay is stunning, bursting with cafes to try; people to meet; and fun to be had. But being deep in nature, away from the noise, the hype and (especially) Instagram, you can be rejuvenated on a whole other level.

This writer was a guest on Dometic Outdoor’s Into the Wild camping experience in Byron Bay.

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