I haven’t stayed on Hastings Street, Noosa’s main drag, since my early twenties.
Even then, saying, ‘I stayed on Hastings Street,’ is a stretch. My friends and I, in the name of a big night out, would pitch a tent in the campground at the river end of the street (old-timers like me will remember it) then we’d get dressed in the toilet block before hitting the bars. Nice. Klarsy. But still, Noosa. Hastings Street. It was great then and it’s still magic now that I’m all grown up with a family of my own.
The campground is no longer there, but the tiny street where European SUVs and Wicked Campers fight for parking spaces is still special and the beach is one of the most beautiful I know. A perfect north-facing arc with enough swell for serious surfers but enough shelter for young families.
The thing with Noosa though is this (and it’s why I’ve never stayed there since those mad campground nights): unless you’re right in the heart of Hastings Street, preferably on the beach side, Noosa can be hard work, especially at peak times. The European SUVs and Wicked Campers mean beach-bliss can be cancelled out by parking headaches, and nights out can be more trouble than they’re worth.
So how lucky were we to stay at Seahaven?
Located at the quiet end of the street (but close enough to the surf club that the flags and excellent breakfasts are just a ten
I could also have stayed put. Especially after a beachside breakfast at Bistro C (wander in off the sand, no shoes required). But kids want to do stuff, so my dream of sitting on the balcony watching Laguna Bay behave like a lagoon while reading the papers was replaced with a schedule of activities. But this is where Noosa really shines. You can easily spend a week on Hastings Street and never get in a car and still have a fine time. The beach is at your back door. Lovely shops, friendly bars and endless cafes and restaurants are at your front door.