Easter & dreaming of the Surf Coast

This was my first Easter not spent on the Surf Coast in almost a decade.

If I tally them up, I have spent way more than thirty of my forty-six Easters within 20 km of La Casa Cubo & Bells Beach.

As kids, we begged the adults for a day in Torquay. We wanted to visit the surf shops to ask for free stickers and posters. The town full of surf brands felt much cooler and more street-smart than our gravel roads in Anglesea.

This year, I missed out on decorating the corporate areas and surfers' lounges for the Rip Curl Pro. Instead of crowding on the sand with friends, I woke up on Good Friday in a different state, on another island. I felt a strong urge pulling me. My nervous system craved something more. Coffee on the couch and the WSL app didn't compare to being there in person.

Easter in Torquay is her true season. The sunrises are crisp, locals are happy, and the waves are PUMPING. The energy from the saltwater in the air brings the town together in happiness. The summer crowds have thinned, local surfers are frothing, and the days are still long. Smiles and excitement are everywhere. Pro surfers are likely to be in the queue with you at the post office or when you get your morning coffee. True story, Clarissa Moore's sister's birthday lines up with the pro, so I had a lovely chat with her one day at Aus Post.

But it's not all about seeing famous surfers - although that is a thrill - it's the total energy of the town. Torquay's energy comes alive during this time, and nothing is better.

I miss it so much.

For 2026, I am going to plan ahead and make sure we're back in town to froth out and soak up the slow dying of summer and entrance of ugg boot season.