Palm Beach

Sunshine on my eyelids jolts me from my slumber. I rub my eyes and squint through the bright and overwhelming light, trying to make sense of my surroundings. The sunlight is pouring in through tall windows that frame a wall, bathing me as I lie on a couch. No idea whose couch - but it’s sizeable, soft, and covered in linen throw pillows that smell faintly of ocean air. The room is a blend of light wood and crisp white tones, adorned with tropical monstera leaves, plump succulents, and floating shelves holding small decorative items. A sleek, glass coffee table sits in front of me, its surface reflecting the glow of the sun.

It's all pretty chic. But not my kind of décor. Where am I?

I’m drawn from the couch by the subtle smell of saltwater wafting in through the open windows. It’s accompanied by the faint, rhythmic sound of waves crashing in the distance, gently interrupting the silence of the room. My head still foggy, I stumble towards the door, step outside, and blink against the light. Slowly, a view comes into focus - one I know all too well.

It’s a vast shore that stretches before me, golden in the morning light. Sand slopes down grass-tufted dunes, shaded by grand Norfolk Island pines, to be seized by a vigorous ocean. In the distance, rugged headlands rise stoically - a bulwark against the eternal pursuit of the tides. A pavilion stands watch over it all, its earthy red and mustard yellow bricks blending naturally into the coastal landscape.

I must be at Palm Beach.

But something’s off. It all feels a little too perfect. The smooth and untouched sand, seemingly unburdened by a single footprint ever placed upon it. The beautiful people, effortlessly radiant, as if they’ve stepped straight out of a photoshoot. The cloudless sky that’s impossibly blue. It’s all like a scene has been meticulously constructed before me.

What’s really going on? Why am I here? And most important of all, why does this all feel… scripted?

All of a sudden, a voice cuts through the air, calling my name. I turn to see a familiar face, eyes wide with panic, rushing towards me. But how do I recognise him? And how does he know my name?

There’s no time to ponder the thoughts, however, before his voice, low and urgent, pleads to follow in his direction. “Quick,” he insists. “There’s something you need to see.” 

I nod, still perplexed, heart pounding in my chest. This isn’t your normal, relaxing day at Palm Beach. There’s tension building and the stakes feel high; I can almost hear dramatic music swelling in the background.

 

The man starts to pull me along, when a familiar tune fills the air. At first, it seems like my mind is playing tricks on me. I shake my head, trying to dismiss it. But there it is again. I stop in my tracks, unable to escape it. The distinctive opening notes. The iconic theme that’s been etched into the memory of every Sydneysider:

 

Hold me in your arms

Don't let me go

I want to stay forever

Closer each day

Home and away

And it hits me. I’m not at Palm Beach. I’m at Summer’s Bay.  I’ve woken up inside an episode of Home and Away.

 

It all makes sense now. The perfect beach, the palpable drama thick in the air, the strange feeling of constantly being on the brink of something big. This is what it feels like to be a character in the show.

 

“Come on! What are you waiting for?!” The man calls back to me, his delivery intense and dramatic.

 

But before I can answer, a new voice cries out to me from across the beach, “Marco, where have you been?!”

 

It belongs to a bombshell of a woman, with sun-kissed skin, long blonde hair gracefully catching the breeze, and a lifeguard’s bathing suit clinging to a curvaceous figure, leaving little to the imagination. What does she want with me?

 

“Something’s happened at the Surf Club! There’s no time to explain – but we desperately need your help.” The begging emotion cracks her voice just a little at the end.

 

This isn’t just any problem. It’s big. And I get the feeling it’s going to impact everything.

 

I glance out at the ocean, the swells rolling in hypnotically, and try to make sense of the whole thing. I’ve been thrown into Summer’s Bay, where every wave carries a secret, every sunrise brings the promise of something dramatic. And now I’ve got a decision to make. Do I follow the man and uncover the mystery he’s hiding? Or do I dive right into the emergency that’s broken out at the Surf Club?

 

I stand there for a moment, letting the waves crash against the shore.

 

Whatever I choose, I can already tell - this episode is only just beginning.

Total beaches: 100/179