HOME RUN FOR THE GOLD COAST
After three decades on the Gold Coast, it is time to celebrate this wonderful place that I now call home sweet home
IT was 30 years ago today.
On July 10, 1991, at the tender age of 15, I stepped off the Ansett flight from Sydney and on to the tarmac at Coolangatta Airport.
I’d travelled more than 24 hours and half a world to relocate from Dallas, Texas, to the Gold Coast, Australia.
And I could not have been angrier. I’d refused to sit next to my parents on that long, long flight, so furious was I to be dragged away from all that I knew and loved.
This was the dark ages of the very early ’90s, there was no internet, no social media, no email, and international calls cost almost as much as a flight back to the States.
I was alone in a new country. And this new town seemed very strange indeed for a girl who grew up in a landlocked city, where the only landmarks were the unnatural assets of strip malls and giant shopping centres.
While I soon settled in to my new school (shout-out to Aquinas College), I was anything but adjusted.
Because despite the beauty of the Pacific Ocean and the lush backdrop of the Hinterland rainforest, I was completely, totally and utterly bored.
Maybe that was because I was living in Robina? After all, 30 years ago, that suburb was all but a glorified dirt lot. Sure, we had a nice, new house … but we were literally the only ones on the street. But my, how things have changed. Not just for Robina, but the Gold Coast itself. Which makes me wonder, how would my 15year-old self feel if we were to arrive here now? (Disregarding the fact that we never could arrive now. What bitter irony there was no Covid-91.)
Looking at my own children, who are edging ever closer to that 15-year mark, I think my teen self would have been too busy to mope.
While the theme parks existed back in ’91 (Movie World and I even share a 30year anniversary), they weren’t part of regular local life like they are now.
Thanks to annual passes, those parks are like my teens’ playground these days. They are good, safe fun that provide just the right amount of thrills – for kids and parents.
As the best mall in the southern hemisphere, Pacific Fair has always been there for me (Myer unveiled its major makeover in 1991 too. Sadly – for both of us – I’ve had more work done than it since then.)
But it was the one and only shopping oasis … now we have Robina Town Centre, Harbour Town and half a dozen local boutique hubs and markets.
Then there’s the restaurants.
Back in the early ’90s, if you wanted to really impress the peer group you booked a dinner date at Choices – the upmarket big brother buffet of Sizzler (RIP).
Now, there’s actual choices. From gourmet pizza to burgers to fish’n’chips, it’s the same meal – but certainly in better taste.
The next aspect is a little sad, and certainly not a part of every teen’s life, but I spent a lot of my first few years on the GC at the Gold Coast Hospital due to my father’s battle with cancer.
Even in 1991, the old facility on Nerang St was past its useby date. Despite the fabulous staff (some things don’t change), it was depressing, it was uncomfortable, it was scary.
How I wish I could have spent those many months in our Gold Coast University Hospital. Visiting the palliative care ward last year, I nearly cried seeing what an amazing atmosphere has been created for terminally ill patients.
And then there’s the light rail. That would have been the ultimate game-changer for my sad teen self.
Being too young to drive and with a mother too worried to leave my sick father’s side, the ability to catch a tram from the hospital to Pacific Fair or to a friend’s would have kept me not just entertained but connected. Death, even when it’s not your own, is a lonely journey.
The Gold Coast has changed significantly since 1991, and me along with it. And, in my opinion, we have both changed for the better.
Both of us have welcomed new generations and delighted in seeing them settle in this city. In calling the Coast home.
I wonder whether those first years of Gold Coast life are what fuels my interest in seeing this city continue to evolve and change.
It’s not just that I fear stagnation and boredom, but I learned at an early age that nothing lasts forever. I learned that you can lose your home … but find a new one.
I learned that while change is never easy, if you keep an open mind, the new can be even better than what you knew and loved.
The GC has changed significantly since ’91 and me with it