Alli Forde

We head down to Northern New South Wales so often it’s basically our family’s reset button—at least once a month, sometimes more if we can swing it. It’s close enough to Brisbane to feel spontaneous, but far enough for the pace to shift, and suddenly the only thing on the agenda is beach, bakehouse, repeat. The Tweed Valley and its coast have a way of getting under your skin. Mountains looming in the distance, crystal clear creeks, headlands that double as dinner tables when you unwrap your fish and chips. It’s not flashy, and thank god for that. This stretch is both easy and exceptional—the kind of place you go back to again and again because it never really gets old.

I moved to Brisbane from the US nearly three years ago, and like many expats who land here, I thought I knew what to expect: a city that is best understood as a gateway to the Gold and Sunshine Coasts. But Brisbane has a way of subverting clichés. As the upcoming 2032 Olympics cast a long shadow, the city is undergoing a striking transformation. There is a cultural and culinary evolution underway that’s redefining how both locals and visitors experience it.

Consider the recent launch of Bluey’s World—a family pilgrimage site devoted to Australia’s biggest cultural export—or the opening of Supernormal Brisbane, Andrew McConnell’s first venture outside Melbourne. Together, these speak to a broader shift: Brisbane as Australia’s next great global city—not just in 2032, but right now.

Once the stomping ground of theme park day-trippers and boardshort-clad backpackers, the Gold Coast is officially entering its all-grown-up era. A string of buzzy new hotel openings proves the point: Mondrian Gold Coast in Burleigh Heads is the new place to see and be seen, The Langham raised the bar back in 2022, and a new Andaz is on the horizon. Even The Ritz-Carlton is en route, slated for 2026. But what keeps me coming back isn’t just the new skyline sparkle—it’s the duality of the place. I’ve spent countless weekends here: mornings at Currumbin, afternoons hiking to hidden waterfalls in the hinterland, and evenings watching the sun drop behind Burleigh Hill with a wine in hand. The Goldie has gone glam, yes, but it hasn’t lost its surf-town soul—and that tension is exactly what makes it so special.

Byron Bay is one of those rare places that manages to feel both laid-back and quietly luxurious. It’s where you go to slow down, soak up the sun, and recalibrate—whether it’s riding horses through the hinterland or sipping natural wine at sunset. There’s a creative energy here that’s hard to explain but easy to feel. For me, it’s the ultimate reset button, with good design and better coffee as a bonus.