All Investigations

A sold-out affair. A sunset that understood its role. And a crowd already whispering words like "incredible" and "book him again immediately."

Our leading man had flown in from Melbourne only to discover his guitar had decided to enjoy an extended stay in Sydney. A lesser performer may have faltered.

But thanks to a local hero, Ryan, a guitar teacher of fine taste, a replacement instrument was secured… and what followed was, quite frankly, remarkable. Because if this was 50 percent… one can only imagine what 100 percent might do to us all.

The sound? Warm, rich, and effortlessly engaging. The kind that holds a room without asking permission. The kind that turns a casual drink into a "we're staying for one more" situation… repeatedly.

Meanwhile, Sonia, owner, host, and quite possibly the most efficient woman in Yamba, glided through the evening as though time itself had slowed just for her.

Cocktails flowed quickly. Cheese, hummus, and crackers appeared, simple, thoughtful, and exactly what was needed. And the mood? Alive. Entirely alive.

With credentials that include sharing a stage with Noah Kahan, a Top 30 finish on Australian Idol, regular radio play, and a steadily growing Spotify following, this is not one to "catch next time."

And while you are making plans, do not overlook the bar's equally charming sister across the water in Iluka. Consider yourselves informed. And perhaps… slightly warned.

Tucked quietly along a street I must have driven past a thousand times, and somehow never noticed, sits Coast Yamba Beach Retreat Apartments, a collection of seven coastal units offering something rather unexpected, a true little escape, hidden in plain sight.

We checked into the Ocean Suite. A one bedroom retreat complete with a separate living space and not one, but three balconies, one generous outlook over the ocean, and another tucked off the bedroom for those moments requiring a touch more privacy.

The weather, most obligingly, delivered heavy rain. And so, the evening unfolded exactly as one hopes it might… Bathrobes, wine, board games, a movie and the rather glorious sound of rain rolling in off the ocean.

Now, a small logistical note for those planning their culinary arrangements… Whilst the suite is beautifully equipped with glassware, crockery and all essential kitchen items, there is no oven. A detail I discovered only after ordering from Nicholson's Fine Foods. A swift pivot to Saffras Pizza followed, which arrived in approximately five minutes. Crisis averted.

The bed, exceptionally comfortable. The space, immaculate. The hot tub, clean, undercover, and delightfully easy to access. And perhaps most notably, quiet. A rare and welcome luxury.

We were also gifted a beautiful little bag of artisan chocolates from Yamba Chocolate and Co, a thoughtful touch for returning guests. No fillers, no preservatives, and seed oil free. They can also be found at the Yamba markets.

A particular mention must be made of Raphaela, a local herself who manages the property with warmth and ease, making guests feel entirely at home without ever intruding.

At present, there is a rather tempting stay four, pay three offer, which one might consider dangerously persuasive. We will most certainly be returning. Five stars.

Think gentle, precise flicks to the skin. No deep pressure. No digging in. And I will admit, at one point I did quietly wonder if I was, in fact, paying for therapy or simply being lightly tapped by a very calm professional. And yet… somewhere along the way, I fell asleep. And the next day? Muscle aches, joint stiffness, those general "I am now 50" complaints… gone. Gone.

Belinda, who owns Bowen Therapy in Yamba, is clearly something of a magician. Skilled in both Bowen and remedial work, and frequently booked out because of it, so yes, you will want to plan ahead.

Now, being well versed in deep tissue massage, and finding Belinda unavailable for a same day appointment, I ventured elsewhere… to R&R Relaxation and Remedial. Tucked into a home clinic next to the church, across from the school, and not far from the Industrial Estate, because, as we know, all excellent things in Yamba exist either in, or suspiciously close to, the Industrial Estate.

A proper reception space. A clinical feel. More physiotherapy than fluffy robes. Before we even began, I was assessed, arms raised, neck turned, resistance tested. Within minutes, Kelly, the owner, had identified that my hips were out of alignment. I felt both impressed… and mildly exposed.

Warm oil. Firm pressure. A thorough, targeted massage that uncovered sore spots I did not even know existed. Apparently I clench my jaw. Grind my teeth. A revelation that may very well end in a nighttime mouth guard. I walked out feeling looser, lighter, and, quite frankly, significantly more aligned with the world.

But… if pure relaxation is what you seek… allow me to introduce Corinne from Soul Studio Yamba. A beautiful home based studio, thoughtfully set up for hair, beauty and massage. And the bed. Dear Readers… the bed. Quite possibly the most comfortable massage bed I have ever encountered.

Soft linens. Gentle lighting. Lavender and essential oils drifting through the air before you have even settled in. Slow, sweeping, calming. This is not about fixing you. This is about restoring you.

With Mother's Day approaching, I would argue this is an exceptional gift idea, for someone you love, or simply for yourself.

Not all massages are the same, but all sit around the $100 mark. The difference lies entirely in what you need. Fixing. Realigning. Or simply… floating away.

And so, naturally, I found myself at Exhale Yamba. A most excellent decision. For the rather reasonable sum of $65, one is granted ninety minutes to move between a series of experiences designed to both revive and humble the human body: infrared sauna, cold plunge pool (a brisk four degrees, I might add), multiple hot spa baths of varying temperatures, and a steam room.

I followed what can only be described as a most committed circuit. Beginning in the hot spa to ease in, before moving to the infrared sauna to gently warm the body and loosen the muscles. Then came the cold plunge. Shoulders submerged. Five full minutes. A decision that required both determination and a certain level of stubbornness.

What followed was a return to the hot spa, where the initial shock gave way to something far more agreeable… warmth, bubbles, and a gradual return to feeling like a functioning human. From there, the rhythm revealed itself: steam room, cold plunge, hot spa, steam room once more. And yes… another cold plunge.

By this point, dear readers, one begins to feel both slightly heroic and mildly unhinged. A final round of hot pools, followed by the infrared sauna, and then… a last, decisive cold plunge to finish. And this, I am told, is key. To leave on cold. A bold exit, but a most invigorating one.

The experience itself is seamless. You are welcomed, guided through the process, and gently instructed on the etiquette of bathing properly… shower before, shower after, hydrate often. Lockers are provided. The facilities are clean, calm, and thoughtfully arranged.

While a single visit is $65, there is also a weekly membership at the very same price. Yes. $65 per week. Which means one could, in theory, attend daily.

I departed feeling lighter. Clearer. Slightly superior, if I'm being honest. Lunch followed. Then a two-hour nap of Olympic standard. And a night of deeply satisfying sleep.

Whether you are in need of recovery, relaxation, or simply a reset, Exhale Bathhouse delivers. A solo visit is a delight. Though I suspect it would be equally enjoyable shared.

I was invited to review @salty_tribe_teepees… but with my children now fully grown adults, it seemed a touch unreasonable to insist they participate in a teepee sleepover. So naturally, I invited the neighbourhood children. And their mothers.

Four children. Four teepees. Full decorations including blow up beds, lights, pillows, beautiful soft blankets. All delivered by Laura, who appears to be running not one but several lives simultaneously. A teepee business. A hair salon. A cleaning business. Children. A husband. And, if I heard correctly, something involving pygmy goats.

The result? A beautifully styled backyard moment. The children, three girls and one very happy boy, were completely enchanted. Laura allowed each child to take their teepee home for the night, resulting in four very excited sleepovers across Yamba.

A clever concept. A seamless experience. And one I would happily recommend.

Getting there required a touch more determination than usual. With Southbank Rd closed, one must navigate detours that feel, at moments, like a test of commitment. But persist we did.

What awaited us was not a storefront as one might expect, but the cutest little van, and an owner, Rhiannon, positively glowing, with a display of food so inviting it stopped us in our tracks.

The toasty was divine. The burrito would not be shared. Crusty, cheesy, gooey, perfectly hot.

A steady stream of locals arrived, greeted not with menus, but with memory. "Mocha again?" "Your regular?" A rhythm. A familiarity. A community.

Rhiannon shared that roadworks have reduced her business by as much as 75%. So consider this your gentle nudge. Go. Support her. Support local.

All up, around $60 for two coffees, breakfast, dinner and cake. Quite remarkable, really.

Five stars, without hesitation. And yes… I will absolutely be back.

An 800g tomahawk steak, accompanied by broccolini, a Caesar salad (half a cos lettuce in its natural habitat, generously dressed with bacon and parmesan), and a charming little skillet of potatoes. Cooked beautifully. Shared enthusiastically.

Further adding to the theatre… the plates. Four very small plates. Placed before a rather magnificent platter of meat. The contrast did not go unnoticed. There was laughter. There was negotiation. There may have been strategy.

At approximately $190 (with a gentle Easter Sunday surcharge), it felt like an experience as much as a meal.

The gelato. Observed. Admired. Not consumed. A decision that, in hindsight, may require revisiting.

Excellent beers, a relaxed atmosphere, and the kind of long, easy afternoon that reminds one why sharing food and bones is one of life's simplest pleasures.

How I have managed to live here and not step inside this store sooner remains a mystery. Candles that smell like cocktails. I ask you… how could one not be intrigued?

Lisa began eight years ago, making candles in her kitchen. Today, she has created a storefront that not only smells divine, but offers room sprays, eau de toilette, hats, bags, and more.

I was welcomed in, handed a lychee mocktail, and invited to sit and create. Together, we rolled beeswax candles by hand - three tall and three short pieces.

Lisa runs group workshops (minimum of ten), and I can confidently say this would suit just about everyone. The kind of activity that invites connection, conversation, and a little creativity.

I left with a lychee martini mix, Yamba sea salt spray, a room spray, and an eau de toilette earmarked for my son… along with a candle holder & my candles kindly gifted by Lisa.

There is so much here, in our own backyard, waiting to be discovered.

Dark skies loomed, my white linen dress questioned my judgement, and my headscarf felt… symbolic at best. Two wrong turns later, we arrived. The rain followed. Heavily. Briefly. Dramatically.

And yet… it was beautiful. Sunflowers against a stormy sky are bold, bright and entirely unbothered.

Hannah's flower yard at Sunny Acres Yamba is a hidden gem, with fresh-picked blooms and the kind of effortless country charm that makes you want to take home more than you planned.

Her husband kindly arranged a bunch for me (a skill I deeply admire but do not possess), and I'm told flower arranging classes may soon be on offer.

Naturally, I shall be attending.

We met Toni at 10am - the experience began with a thorough safety briefing, licences checked, instructions clearly explained. Optional additions were offered… rods, reels, bait, ice and an esky (beer not included, sorry blokes!)

Given it was Good Friday, there was really only one appropriate course of action… Rabbit Island. No bunnies were spotted, sorry kids! Easter weekend delivered wind and rain… just enough to justify a strategic stop at the Yamba Tavern for a drink and some hot chips.

This little gem sits tucked away in the Yamba Industrial Estate. The boat is handmade by Steve of Grays Marine and Welding - a husband and wife operation. The boat is launched for you, retrieved for you. Fuel is included. You simply arrive, enjoy, and depart. Prices from just $100.

FYI for those with your own boats, the shop stocks ice, bait, tackle and all your boating needs!

We began with jalapeno poppers in their finest form. Crispy, indulgent, and entirely incapable of being ordered just once.

A chimichanga, generously filled with pulled pork, served with pineapple, guacamole, jalapenos and sour cream. Shared, of course. Though one suspects that was less about generosity… and more about strategy. Because dessert was coming.

Three Milk Cake… Tres Leches. A sponge soaked in full cream milk, sweetened condensed milk and evaporated milk, topped with light whipped cream, ice cream and passion fruit. Conversation ceased.

Owners Amelia and Adam are delightful and may hand you a shot of tequila. We were treated to a honey tequila… and it was delicious.

The verdict? Si a Mexico!!!

We drifted quietly beyond Yamba, chasing a sky that refused to be anything less than spectacular… when suddenly… Music. Laughter. And the unmistakable signs of a gathering that was not entirely ordinary. Naturally… we followed.

The Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki had already sold out and every table was booked. But in a rare and slightly desperate move, I explained myself… and we were very kindly given a small table.

The okonomiyaki? The hero. A generous, layered creation of noodles, cabbage and seafood, crowned with a fried egg, Japanese mayo and teriyaki sauce. Conversation ceased. We simply… ate.

Follow the music… but stay for the food.

Over the years, I have been green. I have been orange. I have been… a curious shade best described as "questionable terracotta."

Enter whispers of Kaylene at Zig Zag Hair Yamba. Naturally, I called immediately. Naturally, she was booked out. That week. The next week. The next month. Possibly the next lifetime.

With the big FIVE-Oh looming, I tried again. Success. We were golden. Seamless. Sun kissed. Effortless. Darren even joined in and emerged looking like a man who spends his mornings surfing.

It is a two hour tan, around $50, and quite frankly the best mood lifter I have found that does not involve carbs or a holiday.

Book ahead. Or prepare to wait… like I did… slightly pale and mildly dramatic.

Six bouncy Boxers in attendance: Queen Polly ◆ Charlie ◆ Daisy ◆ Rosie the Great ◆ Bronson ◆ Bella

There were ball chases, sandy zoomies and more than a few moments where humans could be seen sprinting across the beach in pursuit of their dogs.

A gentle reminder that the Boxer greeting, while well intentioned, is not always subtle. Future gatherings will introduce long leads.

A joyful and thoroughly entertaining spectacle.

Now celebrating 7 years in Yamba, this boutique pet haven is quietly doing things… differently. Shelves are lined with premium, thoughtfully sourced meals, meats, bones and treats.

The philosophy is refreshingly simple: quality over convenience, nutrition over marketing, long healthy lives over quick fixes.

During my visit, I observed Queen Polly herself sampling the goods… with what can only be described as royal approval 👑🐾

One suspects this establishment has now earned its place on Her Majesty's official rotation.

Choir is led by Elysha West, and rehearsals take place at the Uniting Church hall - where, as I am discovering, many of Yamba's hidden gems live.

We sing in three parts. In my early weeks I enthusiastically rotated between soprano and alto sections before eventually settling into the higher ranges.

My best friend in Canada became wildly invested. She had attempted to organise: a mariachi band, balloon delivery, and a singing telegram. In Yamba. The choir did sing me Happy Birthday, which was very sweet.

For $16 a session, it's honestly one of the nicest ways to spend an hour each week. Did you even know Yamba had a choir?

Fair warning: while you may arrive to walk your dog, Queen Polly will likely arrive to inspect you. Definitely more if you happen to be holding a ball… or, heaven forbid, a stick.

She remains the quintessential Boxer: loves a zoomie, loves a stick (preferably far too large), carries said stick with her head held high charging proudly into the ocean as though she has won an Olympic event.

A recent episode: We met Dolly, a sweet dog previously quite terrified of Boxers. After a brief diplomatic introduction to Queen Polly, Dolly bravely revised her position. Growth. Healing. Character development.

If we could all live like Queen Polly - always joyful, never bored, forever grateful for the simple pleasure of a beach, a stick and a friend - the world might be a far happier place.

Yes, dear readers… I officially turned 50. Five zero. Half a century. By some stroke of cosmic brilliance, it also landed on my day off, on a rather rainy Yamba morning. Which meant, of course, I had no choice but to spend the day at Angourie Resort Day Spa. A truly terrible fate.

The day unfolded as follows: multiple spa treatments, a strategically timed lunch between appointments, time in the hot tub, champagne, flowers, and most importantly, absolutely no responsibility.

The spa itself is beautifully calm. The sort of place where time slows down and someone gently reminds you to breathe while applying something luxurious to your face. Highly recommend.

But here is where the story becomes particularly useful… Many locals don't realise that you do not need to be a guest to enjoy Angourie Resort. You can simply arrive, check in at reception, purchase a drink or lunch from the kiosk, and spend a few very civilised hours enjoying the pool and surrounding grounds.

For planning purposes, it is worth noting: the restaurant comes highly regarded, however it is closed Sunday and Monday. The day spa and kiosk remain open on Sundays, making it an ideal option for a rainy day or a slow, indulgent afternoon.

And sometimes, dear readers, a few quiet hours by a resort pool, with a drink in hand and nowhere else to be, is exactly what the doctor ordered.

A small class of four, our delightful instructor Julianne Gosper, a humble kit of watercolours, two pencils and two paint brushes… and suddenly we were artists.

The class was both instructional and remarkably easy for someone who previously believed watercolour painting involved witchcraft and natural talent.

And while my kingfisher may appear slightly over-fed with an enthusiastically shaped beak… it matters not. The session ran for over 2½ hours and was genuinely enjoyable.

$60 for 2½ hours of joy and a plump kingfisher masterpiece. Five stars. Offers start at $4.7 million. 🎨

A small twist in the plot: now that I had paid and received the address, it appears this "Yamba activity" is in fact located… in South Grafton.

With petrol currently priced like liquid gold, this discovery did give me a brief moment to reconsider my artistic journey. However, one must not let down a small business… nor waste a perfectly good story.

So I shall go. At least once. Stay tuned, dear readers. My Archibald Prize-winning masterpiece shall soon be revealed.

My discovery: Ollie and Dave at The Joinery. Allow me to introduce the newest resident of our home: "Madame." Because she is most certainly not a Mademoiselle.

This striking piece was crafted from a single slab of timber - functional art. A mirror, yes. But also a sculpture. A statement. The kind of piece that makes visitors stop mid-sentence and say, "Where on earth did you get THAT?"

Yet another reminder that some of the best discoveries in Yamba are tucked quietly away in the Industrial Park.

After hearing whispers that Yamba now has a Japanese-style Head Spa, I naturally assumed such things only existed in large cities. But no. It exists… right here. In the industrial park.

The treatment included: before-and-after microscope photos of my scalp, a serious double cleanse, scalp scrub, steam hair mask, heated eye pack, a mesmerising waterfall hair rinse, what I believe were feathers at one stage, and various mysterious spa instruments I could not see because by this stage I had entered another dimension.

Reader… it was DIVINE. When I emerged, I felt somewhere between a cloud, a noodle and a fully reset human being.

The treatment runs 90 minutes and $299. I have decided this shall become a quarterly ritual. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

The journey covered roughly 8 kilometres beginning at sunset. The river was calm, the sky slowly turning shades of pink and gold, and dolphins appeared along the way as if they too had decided to join the expedition.

Halfway through the paddle we paused for a champagne stop, which, as far as I'm concerned, should be a standard feature of all outdoor activities.

A special mention must go to our fellow paddler, 79-year-old John Sheather, who quite frankly embarrassed the rest of us by absolutely smoking the group at supersonic speed.

Highly recommended if you find yourself in Yamba and are looking for a truly memorable way to experience the Clarence River. Magic. ✨

It is, in fact, Fresh Friday at Nicholson Fine Foods! For those who may not yet know, this is the day when their fresh food orders are created, which means Fridays suddenly become far more interesting than usual.

One might wander in intending to purchase something sensible… and leave with several items that were absolutely not on the list but seemed essential at the time.

Purely in the interest of public service, I felt it only fair to share this intelligence with the community. Should you see someone inspecting the homemade jams, mustards and sauces with great seriousness… it is simply part of the ongoing investigation.

Get your orders in early and what I really mean is set your alarm for Wednesday afternoon for fear of missing out!

I gave Hayley a brief that essentially said: "Turning 50. Australian-born. Canadian family. Loves travel. Champagne enthusiast. Slight handbag appreciation. Oh, and can we include my dog?"

What she delivered? An edible autobiography.

From the Canada and Australia flags 🇨🇦🇦🇺, to the passport, plane and luggage ✈️, to the champagne bottles (entirely accurate) 🥂, to the pink handbag (also accurate) 💕, and even my beloved Polly 🐶. Every little detail had meaning.

And the inside? Two perfect layers of raspberry vanilla, light, delicious, not-too-sweet, generous buttercream and the kind of cake people actually go back for seconds of. (Which they did.)

Hayley doesn't just make cakes. She listens. She translates your life into sugar and executes it with precision and creativity.

If you want a cake that's more than "just dessert"… this is your girl.

Thank you Hayley's Happy Cakes for absolutely nailing the Big Five-Oh. I felt seen. And very well fed. 💗🎂✨

Further cake investigations may be required. Cafes, bakeries, restaurant review suggestions welcome 😋

After my previous and first purchase, I experienced a complete and total loss of willpower, self-control, dignity, and the ability to say "no" to anything that even remotely resembled a tub of cake.

As you can see in the evidence presented below… the situation escalated quickly.

Naturally, drastic action had to be taken. To protect both myself and, frankly, the wider Yamba community, I made the difficult decision to remove myself from the environment entirely.

I flew to the UK in Dec 2025. I stayed there until Jan 2026. My sole objective: remain a safe distance from buttercream, trifle, and anything served in a suspiciously generous plastic tub.

I simply could not be trusted. Not in this economy. Not with these cakes. Not with custard within a 3km radius.

I was, after all, still recovering from my previous (and ONLY, may I add) gluttonous indulgence.

The reunion, however, was inevitable. It would occur in February for my Big FIVE-OH, where my heart, mouth and stomach would once again unite in their holy trinity of overindulgence.

Until then, exile was the only responsible option.

For anyone else that was also feeling weak, fragile, or emotionally unstable around these tubs of cake, I advised United Airlines still had seats available. We could have started a support group at Heathrow. But alas, I arrived alone, and somewhat regretting my life choices.

#iHopeYouPrayedForMe 🍰✈️🤣 Stay tuned, dear readers… the Big Five-Oh cake reveal shall soon be revealed.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

I had Hayley from Hayley's Happy Cakes making my Big FIVE-OH birthday cake after so many glowing recommendations. And I may or may not have taken a tiny, innocent jaunt into the hemp store in the industrial estate earlier that week. 🫢🌿

Fast-forward to a Thursday night. Hubby was already in bed because he was leaving for a camping trip the next morning. I was alone. Glass of wine in hand. Enjoying a little gummy. And suddenly, like a beacon from the heavens, a post appeared on my feed:

Tubs. Of. Cake.

Not slices. Not cupcakes. TUBS. OF. ACTUAL. CAKE.

Now, for context: I had never been much of a cake eater. (Or so I had believed.) So obviously I ordered three. Vanilla. Red velvet. Chocolate. Because why make sensible decisions?

I picked them up on the Friday. By Saturday 5pm, I had completely surrendered. I was IN THE TRENCHES. IN THE SUGAR FOXHOLE. Begging my cleaner to take at least two tubs away before I met my sticky, delicious end.

I had: no ability to self-regulate, no self-control, no shame. Just me, my spoon, and a level of cake-driven gluttony I hadn't known I was capable of. 🤣🎂

I didn't want dinner. I didn't want snacks. I didn't want my husband to come home. I wanted CAKE and only cake.

Eventually I handed over two tubs, whispered goodbye like they were old lovers… and stretched the remaining vanilla out until Monday like a war ration.

10/10 would do again. I thought "God help me when the actual 50th birthday cake arrives." Thanks Hayley. 😂