KEY POINTS:
There is something deliciously risky about going back. To return to a place associated with good times is a small act of faith. Will it have been ravaged by time? Will your memories be exposed as mere naivety?
The safe option is to treat warm distant recollections like dozing old dogs and let the buggers be. Too foolish for sound advice, I found myself aboard a Pacific Blue flight in November bound for Noosa, a jewel on Queensland's Sunshine Coast.
I planned to buff the haze from time-worn memories, central to which would be ticking a few boxes. A daily gambol in the magical national park.
The beachside cafe, Eduardo's, where I'd scoff eggs while observing morning beachgoers. That's a must.
And what about those outrageous Mambo beach shorts I'd bought and proudly worn before the off-beat designs of Reg Mombasa (he of wonderful 80s band, Mental As Anything) became de rigueur. Would I find a pair as licentious this time?
When I first clapped eyes on Noosa, Dannevirke export Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen was running Queensland, Crocodile Dundee was doing for Australians what Fred Dagg did for us, and the Silver Bodgey was Prime Minister. As evidence some things don't change, I saw Bob Hawke on the box and can report he still warrants the moniker.
Of course, some things do change. I had a red moustache, a Kombi with a windsurfer on the roof rack and, less conventionally, my Dad riding shotgun. Newly retired, he was visiting as co-conspirator on a trawl up the east coast for as far north as leave from my Sydney job and familial bickering allowed.
We covered a lot of kilometres (we agreed not to discuss politics) and we visited a lot of beaches. Two stood the test of time in my memory (the other was Byron Bay).
I recall being impressed as we idled for the first time along Hastings St, that strip of casual and elegant shops and restaurants which runs parallel to Noosa's main beach, and into the camping ground at its end. The camping ground is a reserve now (you will find one a few kilometres away at Noosaville), a casualty of Noosa's surge upmarket. Thankfully that surge hasn't robbed it of what makes it special, credit due to a council that's restricted buildings to three stories. Noosa's lifeblood is tourism but not at the cost of towering high-rises.
Here, the accent remains on Noosa's real jewel, its geography.
Noosa sits at the tip of a peninsula, with water - surf beaches, river, lakes - on all sides. The headland is the domain of Noosa National Park, my favourite place here. On my three visits (each a decade apart), I've run daily on its trails.
Runners run to the dictates of their appetite. I had appointments with three of Noosa's many excellent restaurants and so I ran ... and ran. And it was such solitary pleasure.
The Coastal Trail is popular with walkers, tracing the headland past Tea Tree Bay to a sharp little cove with a cliff-top view of the moody blue Tasman crashing in. Peek over if you dare. Hello, Hells Gate! Watch your step now, some lovelorn souls have exited this life at this very spot.
The trail least taken is to Noosa Hilltop. The bush canopy denies a clear view but there is the Hillary satisfaction of standing at the park's high point.
But it's Tanglewood I remembered best, with its turns and twists and cool beneath the canopy. Would it be as lovely?
My visit coincided with sports carnival week and the town is filled with athletes. More than 2000 had entered the 25th anniversary of the Noosa Triathlon and many of the best triathletes, cyclists, runners and swimmers were in town.
Sticking to the theme of physicality, I signed up for a surfing lesson for rank beginners. I'd tried and failed (dismally) when living in Sydney during my 20s but like a poor tradesman conveniently blame my tools. I foolishly bought a board that was far too short for me and would behave like a submarine at the hint of a wave, leaving me wallowing.
The passage of time was not on my side but surely expert tuition would count for something? After drilling us on the sand, instructor Grant (brother of former surf champ Merrick Davis) let us get wet. We practised the first stage of getting to one's feet: Push up with hands correctly positioned beneath the breastbone.
Grant patiently goes over (and over) the next steps: plant the back foot, then the front, rise, leading hip and arm pointing in the intended direction. Two things stuck: make with your arms as though you are firing a bow and arrow, and lower your centre of gravity by bending your knees and sticking your butt out.
Not pretty, but all three novices Nicole from Germany, Sarah from Canada (they were pretty) and Kiwi me all stood on a wave. I say "stood", rather than "rode", advisedly despite a swimmer commenting after my best effort that I could now forever claim that I had "surfed". Surfed, therefore, is a relative term.
But wait, there's more. Carrying my board up the beach, two bikini-clad women asked if I was the instructor! Clearly they hadn't been watching. "See," says Grant, "one lesson and the girls are flocking." As though to put things back in their natural order, Grant demonstrates real surfing. Scooting out on a rip, he's on a wave before you know it, showing the innate style that comes of growing up on the waves of Manly beach.
Next day, I have the privilege of having kayaking expert Rod Withyman to myself.
A distinctive feature of his business (run with wife Cath) are the little Kiwi-made sails that can be easily deployed on the front of the kayaks. We don't bother with it this day in our double kayak but they ease the physical burden and let you silently approach wildlife.
We did a three-hour paddle (including a picnic lunch stop) that took in Noosa River, the breakwater and Laguna Bay and included the exhilaration of negotiating the breakers each way through the bar, nature watching and chatting. Rod's a laidback mix of athlete (former member of the Australian Institute of Sport's kayak squad) and amateur ecologist.
He'd point out our companions, the kite, white-breasted sea eagle, eastern curlew and those cunning little masters of co-operative fishing, the black cormorants.
We didn't see turtles or dolphins this time but did spot a leopard ray, its markings more striking than I'd imagined. The ray's tail was missing, probably cut off, says Rod, by some fool thinking they were making it safe for humans. They had also made it defenceless against its predators and Rod doubted it would survive long.
We paddle beside the shark net off the main beach. I noticed it didn't run the full length and you could see in the clear water that it goes down only a few metres. What's to stop the sharks swimming under? Nothing, says Rod, who suggests its presence is more about marketing. But then the fear of shark attack bares no relation to incidence. Rod's seen only one or two in his years on these waters.
As we paddle home, the effect of the area's low-rise policy is obvious. For a few years, five-storey buildings were permitted and where a few stand together, the trees have been rendered invisible while everywhere else the greenery dominates.
Imminent amalgamation of the Noosa Shire Council into the state government is a hot topic. Locals fear losing what makes their area unique and are wary of promises that it will be protected by proposed "iconic status" legislation. Will the line in the sand hold in the face of the big money associated with high-rise development?
On the dining front, I found Eduardo's, or I should say the restaurant that occupies its site Season. The location still can't be beaten and though I didn't get to replicate the leisurely breakfast of years ago, the salmon fishcakes and eye fillet I had for dinner were a fine substitute.
Further along Hastings St, the courtyard dining of Lindoni's had the effect of transporting you to a village piazza. The authentic Italian restaurant has been on the site almost 20 years and is now owned by long-serving staffer, Rio. The barramundi was the best I've tasted.
To find Lindoni's, just look for the 1969 Fiat Bambina out front. Painted Ferrari red, it turns heads and attracts customers.
As for mould-breaking beach shorts, I found nothing to outdo Mambo and contented myself with a relatively conservative pair in blue check.
My last night, my last run: 5.30pm. 24C. Early morning, early evening, the sting gone from the sun, those are the times to run. Five minutes from my beachfront hotel, the Netanya, and I'm alone.
Dusk. The bush filters the sun; selected sunbeams only may enter. The birds catch up on the day's news. What else can I hear? My footfalls padding like marshmallows on the trail, the murmur of the ocean somewhere off. For long moments, running feels effortless. I tap towards the rising voice of the sea and the clearing that affords a postcard view of Alexandria Bay's perfect sandy crescent. I pause to take in the breakers spreading like cream across a golden crust.
I won't wait a decade to return. As for the immediate future I'm having dessert again tonight.
* Phil Taylor visited with the help of Tourism Noosa and Pacific Blue
GETTING THERE
Pacific Blue flies daily to Brisbane from Auckland, Wellington and Christchurch.
Noosa is a 90-minute drive north.
EVENTS
Noosa Festival of Surfing (March), more info at www.noosamalibuclub.org.
Noosa Enduro mountain bike race (July) billed as "the hard way to see Noosa"; www.usmevents.com.au.
Noosa Half Marathon (August), fast, flat, scenic course; www.usmevents.com.au.
Noosa Triathlon Multi-Sport Festival (November); www.usmevents.com.au.
SEASONS
Low: Apr 6 to Sep 19.
Shoulder: Oct 6 to Dec 22 and Jan 19 to March 27.
Peak: Dec 23 to Jan 18 and March 28 to Apr 5.
WHERE TO STAY
Netanya Noosa, on Hastings St and the beach, four star, tel +61 7 5447 4722.
DINING (IN HASTINGS ST)
Lindoni's, Noosa's only authentic Italian restaurant, fine cuisine, wonderful Mediterranean-style courtyard dining.
Berardo's on the Beach, casual atmosphere, absolute beachfront. Had I flicked one of the olive stones from my plate it would surely have landed on sand. Breakfast, lunch and dinner available.
ACTIVITIES
Kayak Noosa, Rod & Cath Withyman, tel +61 (0) 448 567321, www.kayaknoosa.com, jetty 17, Noosa Houseboats, Gympie Tce, Noosaville.
Noosa Learn to Surf School, Merrick & Grant Davis, 0418 787 577.
Camel safari, Camel Company Australia, Dave & Lyn Madden, www.camelcompany.com.au, ph 5442 4402.
