Getting going

Officially, the Central Coast Highway is one of Australia's newest tourist routes. We drift through to drift through a couple of days.

Stretching for just 50km, the Central Coast Highway (CCH) was created in August 2006 by renaming several local roads between Kariong, little more than one hour north of Sydney, and Doyalson on the Pacific Highway south of Newcastle. The route has long been known to surfers, canny caravanners and car clubs - it's a great Sunday cruise route - but its new, easy navigation thanks to one-road signposting will put it on a lot more tourists' schedules.

Even though it can be driven in around an hour - or bypassed by freeway in half that - the Central Coast Highway is a terrific cause for a couple of days - or more - coast cruising. Directly and indirectly, the CCH gives you access to more than a dozen stunning beaches, a gaggle of lakes, lagoons and quiet waterways. Knock yourself out with fishing, bushwalking and bike riding. Take it easy by lazing on the beach. Feed the pelicans. Check out a lighthouse, cook your own steak in a pub, or peruse the chef's suggestions in one of the region's many restaurants.

Getting going

Officially, the Central Coast Highway is one of Australia's newest tourist routes. We drift through to drift through a couple of days.

Stretching for just 50km, the Central Coast Highway (CCH) was created in August 2006 by renaming several local roads between Kariong, little more than one hour north of Sydney, and Doyalson on the Pacific Highway south of Newcastle. The route has long been known to surfers, canny caravanners and car clubs - it's a great Sunday cruise route - but its new, easy navigation thanks to one-road signposting will put it on a lot more tourists' schedules.

Even though it can be driven in around an hour - or bypassed by freeway in half that - the Central Coast Highway is a terrific cause for a couple of days - or more - coast cruising. Directly and indirectly, the CCH gives you access to more than a dozen stunning beaches, a gaggle of lakes, lagoons and quiet waterways. Knock yourself out with fishing, bushwalking and bike riding. Take it easy by lazing on the beach. Feed the pelicans. Check out a lighthouse, cook your own steak in a pub, or peruse the chef's suggestions in one of the region's many restaurants.

On the way

The Highway begins at the Gosford/Kariong exit on the Sydney/Newcastle (F3) freeway. It's clearly signposted but make sure you're in the left hand-lane by the top of the climb from the Mooney Mooney bridge - especially if you're towing a van (um, you should be in the left lane, anyway) and especially so during the afternoon peak hour. The region's proximity to Sydney (less than one hour) means plenty of freeway blowflies not all of whom - shall we say - share the relaxed tourists' lifestyle.

Not too far up the road (only a kilometre or so on the left) is Mt Penang Gardens. Mt Penang has a long and somewhat cluttered history - it's been a juvenile detention centre, for instance - but in recent times a big chunk of the grounds have been landscaped to create beautiful gardens. Nearby is a festival/Sunday markets site.

After stumbling on some impressive sandstone rock sculptures (created by international artists for Australia's Bicentennial back in '88) we eventually find the café/restaurant and sit down for a coffee and a light meal on the sundeck overlooking the ponds. It's a glorious day and a wander around the gardens after our tasty sandwich seems to take the weight off my shoulders.

I relax even more about 20 minutes later. We've left Mt Penang, and bypassed Gosford via the Brian McGowan Bridge. A few minutes later, we're approaching the Kincumber turnoff. I flick the indicator right onto Avoca Drive. Within seconds we're in holiday mode, channelling the spirit of adventure. We gravitate towards the water around Saratoga and Davistown, finding plenty of places to take a walk, have a picnic, throw in a line or, from one of several boat ramps, drop a prop.

Kincumber comes and goes - fuel, drinks and groceries if you need it - and soon we're cruising toward Avoca. We arrive to a town that resembles the setting of a prime-time teen soap opera. Even the local petrol station has a quaint, rustic aura about it. So it's a real shame the harsh yellow of real estate shopfronts blight the main drag. No matter - the happy tinker of laughter from families on the beach just metres away makes up for it.

If you want cosmopolitan then Terrigal is the place for you to go

If you're into all that cosmopolitan lifestyle stuff, Terrigal is the place on the Coast, with cafés and clothes shops lining the one-way main street. There are more quality restaurants here - plus two terrific drinking holes (one at the enormous Crowne Resort) than just about anywhere else on the Coast. A few choice fish and chip shops, too. Oh yeah, the Surf Club does a good feed as well.

But throw a motorhome or - worse - caravan onto the scene and Terrigal loses some of its appeal. It doesn't have many tourist parks and manoeuvring can be a hassle anywhere but on the distinctively steep landform known as The Skillion that juts out over the calm waters of Terrigal Haven it's no fun at all. We do a slow lap and continue north toward The Entrance, re-joining the Central Coast Highway just past Wamberal Lagoon.

Taking it easy

From there, it's an easy (if uninspiring) cruise through suburbia to The Entrance where we know there's a better array of caravan parks. We're both surprised where the day has gone. We're not even half way along the Central Coast and already it's past 4pm with the shadows steadily lengthening. We briefly discuss setting up camp and cracking open some beers… But we decide it's a little too early to 'call it a day' so we cross the bridge at The Entrance and keep driving for a while. Just for a look…

We're glad we did. The sun dropping over Tuggerah Lake and the distant Watagan Mountains is almost mesmerising. There are plenty of people casting lines into the lake and after a leisurely 20 minutes drive through the coastal scrub of Wyrrabalong National Park we turn right and head toward Norah Head lighthouse. The lighthouse is an easy walk and the seaward view is of dozens of ships waiting to dock at Newcastle. Guess that's why the lighthouse exists, huh? Down on the huge rock platforms of Norah Head we watch bright-eyed kids learning about sea creatures from mums and dads. It's one of those places you can simply sit and stare at the ocean, zone-out and recharge your soul.

Nice - but with lunch long ago and the sun almost gone, Phil and I feel the pangs of hunger and the irresistible lure of icy cold beer. There's something even more important that we have to sort out, too: with darkness rapidly approaching, we're not actually booked into the waterside Dunleith Tourist Park - our chosen destination - and neither of us knows what time its reception or the local shops close. We're yet to buy our steaks and salad for dinner.

We back-track along the CCH and arrive at the tourist park with minutes to spare. Whew! We're not as stressed by the shopping situation - we're told Coles (on the south side of the bridge in the main town) is open late - and soon we're sipping beers while we BBQ steaks in Dunleith's camp kitchen.

The next day dawns clear and blue. We'd said a brief g'day to two blokes - brothers from Germany - who'd arrived in a Toyota late the night before. One of the blokes wanders off as Phil and I are rubbing our eyes awake. Around an hour later, the bloke wanders back, swinging a salmon big enough for breakfast and lunch. Later, while we're sipping coffee another feller gets one big enough for breakfast and lunch… for the next week. Yep, good fishing around The Entrance and Tuggerah Lake…

Despite my efforts with the Nescafe and sweetened condensed milk that I have stashed in my kitchen-in-a-box, Phil looks like he wants to commit a murder/suicide. I think he needs a real coffee... And that's after his morning shower! Meanwhile, I notice the Kombi, although not... um grubby, is getting a lived-in-look. Taking notes while sitting in the driver's seat, I've spilled coffee on the driver's side floor mat and there's maps and crap cluttering the dash. I've found a little hidey hole for my walky-talky in the driver's door and Phil has thongs and gear scattered all over the floor, too.

Phil's earlier kill-me stare breaks into one of joy as just a kay or so up the road from the caravan park, we spy a lake-side takeaway/cafe. Phil almost launches himself from the Kombi in search of a 'proper' coffee and manages to sniff out two ripper bacon and egg rolls too. Retracing our drive of the evening before along the Eastern Shore of Tuggerah Lake, we're soon passing the Norah Head turnoff again, heading toward Budgewoi.

Budgewoi - it sounds like something from a Spike Milligan skit (and he grew up and retired around here) - straddles the water between Lakes Tuggerah and Budgewoi. We stop for a chat with some locals catching a few - or at least trying - from the jetty by the bridge.

Just past Budgewoi, we're at the end of our journey, at the Central Coast Highway's junction with the Pacific Highway at Doyalson, roughly half-way between Sydney and Newcastle. I travel through this intersection almost weekly and I'm less than one hour from home, but after a little more than 24 hours meandering along the Central Coast Highway, I feel as relaxed as if I've been away for month.

And the surprising thing is, you can do the same by simply bypassing half an hour of the Sydney/Newcastle freeway. Do it. This drive is just great and perfect for first-time caravanners testing out their rigs and easing into a nomadic lifestyle.