Driving to Queensland with a toddler: A survival guide

If only road trips were this blissful…

It’s Christmas time. Christmas, oh glorious Christmas.
When the air is hot, scented by freshly cut lawn, and aggressively humid.
Two weeks off. And it’s a Queensland family Christmas this year.

We looked at flights.
$1,600 return.
Absolutely not.

So we decided to do that thing we swore we would never, ever do again about five years ago…
drive to Queensland (from Sydney).

It should be an 11.5-hour drive (vs. a 1-hour 35-minute flight). Technically shorter than an international flight to Scotland, but the highways are packed with other ambitious families living the Australian Christmas holiday dream. Plus a boatload of enormous trucks, who I’m sure are thrilled we’re all choking the roads with our campervans and family cars.

I have a fractured elbow, so RaRa is doing all the driving. My role is moral support, which mostly involves being enthusiastic about his decision to fill the tank with slightly fancier unleaded petrol so he can use sports mode on the highway – in our very trendy family station wagon. Only two extra cents a litre. Bargain.

This is a survival guide for a stonkingly hot, then rainy, slow crawl from Sydney to the Sunshine Coast (with a toddler).

1. Snacks. So many snacks.

Lollie snakes are hidden at the very bottom of the cooler bag. The blueberries ended up squished to our bums.

The best road-trip snacks were home-delivered yesterday from the supermarket, where they are vastly more cost-effective than petrol stations.

Think: mini bags of Arnott’s Shapes, fruit boxes (aka poppers), muesli bars, yoghurt, cheese and crackers, Pringles, cans of Coke Zero. Most of it was on special. Bonus.

Whatever snacks you choose, make sure you prioritise the driver’s favourites. In this case, RaRa is a huge fan of Barbecue Shapes and Coke Zero in a can (important).

Other snacks I packed to avoid being quietly removed from the mothers’ group: apples, blueberries, carrots, nuts.

And my toddler Lark’s favourite, of course: lollie sssssssnakes.

Lunch was champagne ham and Gouda cheese sandwiches with Dijon mustard and mustard pickles on multigrain bread.
Ham and cheese only for the toddler. Crusts cut off rather than ceremonially thrown on the floor.

Be sure to pack it all in an excellent cooler bag and ice block to keep everything fresh.

The best thing about packing your own lunch and snacks is that when you strategically stop to stretch your legs, you’re not hunting for food inside a restaurant – the absolute last thing an energetic toddler wants to do.

Instead, find a playground in a scenic park and let them burn off some of that energy.

2. In-car entertainment

Headphones: the antidote to travel grumps.

Headphones.
For the love of the travel gods, pack your headphones.

When you inevitably grow tired and grumpy, you can pop them on and be transported to another world – music, podcasts, audiobooks, or simply the sweet, sweet relief of noise-cancelling.

Whatever you do, don’t peak too early and put on your toddler’s favourite song.
You know the one. The song that must be played on repeat or the world melts down – taking your eardrums and sanity with it.
Golden by KPop Demon Hunters, I’m looking at you.

3. Timing the road trip

I remember the days when I used to time road trips around avoiding traffic.
These days, we time them around toddler nap time. For Lark, she usually falls blissfully asleep at 12:30pm – this time with a belly full of ham and cheese sandwiches. A solid 2 hours.

4. Break the trip into manageable chunks

Last time RaRa and I tried to do this trip in two days, which was a huge mistake.
Nine or so hours on the road each day, further extended by COVID border-crossing delays.
Man, that was rough.

This time: Google Maps said five hours to Nambucca Heads.
It would still be light when we arrive. Check into the motel (RaRa loves a good cheesy roadside motel). Pop down to the beach for a swim. Maybe throw a few snags on the park barbie or grab takeaway and head to a park so the toddler can run around.
Living the dream.

RaRa’s Daytona dream in our family station wagon (Reality? Bumper to bumper cars crawling down the highway)

Fast forward a few hours later…

5. Set your expectations low about inevitable delays

Six hours into a five-hour road trip, and we sadly still had two hours to go.
Yep. You read that right.

Three hours of delays thanks to rainy weather and, sadly, accidents along the highway. The atmosphere in the car was starting to feel… stormy.

We stopped for dinner at 6:30pm, pulling into an old-school country-town Chinese restaurant for some sweet-and-sour pork and fried rice action.

Lark spent pretty much the entire meal running laps of the restaurant like a menace, repeatedly setting off the bing bong door alert and loudly announcing how fast she is. Which, to be fair, she’s right. She also refuses to sit still no matter how hard we try. I felt terrible for the other patrons, but grateful for the hot meal in my belly.

The hostess was incredibly accommodating, reassuring us she’d seen worse.
Which was kind…
But I’m not entirely comfortable knowing we’re somewhere on the “worse” end of that continuum.

We scoffed our food as quickly as we could. Scooping Lark up, RaRa left the restaurant at a pace that looked suspiciously like a dine-and-dash, while I stayed behind to scoop leftovers into plastic tubs and settle the bill.

I made Lark a milk bottle, and we hit the road again at 7:15pm.
Only two more hours to go until we reach Nambucca Heads.

We arrived at the motel well after dark, sometime after 9:15pm, in the rain.
Total trip time: 9.5 hours for leg one (supposed to five).

On the drive in, I held Lark’s hand as the trees along the road stretched into scary, long, shadowy shapes – which she quietly called “stary.” Her heavy eyelids fluttered as she drifted in and out of sleep.

At that time of the day, the roads had cleared. We passed six cars travelling in the same direction – three already involved in accidents, hazard lights blinking, barely visible in the rain. That brought the tally to seven accidents we’d seen that day, including an eight-car pile-up earlier on the highway. I sincerely hope everyone was okay.

It was a sobering end to the drive, and a reminder to be grateful we’d stopped when we did and taken it slow. For the rest breaks. For easing off when the feelings got too big. For arriving safely, even if we were late, tired, and damp.

If there’s one final tip, it’s this: be extra alert on the roads this holiday season. It’s a dangerous time of year to be travelling.

Places we stopped along the way

The Rock Roadhouse
Nappy change in the backseat, clean toilets for adults, and a much-needed leg stretch.
Would we stop again? Yes.

A riverside park with a playground
Fresh air and space to run.
Would we stop again? Absolutely.

Chatham Chinese Restaurant, Taree
Dinner stop after a looooong day on the road.
Would we stop again? Yes. Hot food and understanding staff.

Riverview Boutique Motel, Nambucca Heads
Night one. Arrived late, wet, and very grateful. Hot breakfast. Five stars.
Would we stay again? In a heartbeat.

Day 2: the less eventful, but still slow crawl from Nambucca Heads to the Gold Coast.

The Big Prawn, Ballina (Bunnings Warehouse carpark)
Drove past for nostalgia before getting petrol nearby.
Would we stop again? Lark loved it, “Bye bye pawn”. Obligatory drive-by.

The Farm, Byron Bay
A beautiful pause in the journey: fresh air, real chai, ice-cream, and a free-range toddler with zero guilt.
Would we stop again? Yes, especially with kids.

Mercure Gold Coast Resort
Night two. We must have scored a deal because this place is beyond nice for the price. We loved splashing around in the pool before settling in for the evening.
Would we stay again? 100% yes.