OpinionIn this series, My Happy Place, our writers reflect on the holiday destinations in Australia and around the world that they cherish the most.July 23, 2026 — 5:00amRipples on the Mitchell River mirror a dozen sulphur-crested cockatoos soaring overhead, their spread-winged reflections swimming below. The soft scent of eucalyptus drifts through damp air, rooted in the generations of Gippsland red gums that frame this gravel track, sweating so sweetly. As a June sunrise seeps through, last night’s dewdrops still glisten against gilded grass, slowly melting away like dawn. I pass a young family teaching their daughter to ride a bike, our smiles reach our eyes, and we say “good morning!”Returning to my hometown is a watershed moment. The sights, smells and sounds of this country comfort me, a thaw from city life. And as swiftly as the winter rains flood these Mitchell River flats, what begins as a trickle of memory on my morning walk soon overflows with people, places, and a past long gone, yet waiting to welcome me home.Bairnsdale on the Mitchell River.AlamyI was born here, in Bairnsdale on Gunaikurnai Land in East Gippsland, a 3½-hour drive from the nearest capital city. Stretching from the alpine foothills of the Great Dividing Range in the north, through Australia’s largest inland lake system to open coastline in the south, Victoria’s far eastern region is shaped by eucalypt forests, rolling farmlands and river-fed flats.I admit there was a time when I couldn’t wait to leave this place. Fresh out of high school, I traded the vast rural farmlands – too small for my teenage dreams – for share houses and sublets in the eastern suburbs of Sydney, thinking that I’d feel more free. After years squashed into the big city, seeking out overseas spaces and far-flung places, my soul started searching for something more familiar.Shortly after my 30th birthday, the country roads brought me back to Bairnsdale. The tides of 2026 had swelled with sentimentality and a wistful self-reflection: my Facebook feed had been saturated with happy birthday messages to high school friends who were also turning 30, and February had unfolded with the funeral of a beloved family member.Sign up for the Traveller Deals newsletterGet exclusive travel deals delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up now.I was swimming in nostalgia – craving connection, craving community, and desperate for the downpour of time and its seasons to slow down.The author at Metung Hot Springs.So I returned to East Gippsland to embrace the slower pace of country living.All the hallmarks of a small town that once made me shy away now welcome me back post-life in the city: the Bairnsdale church reclaims its place as the tallest point on the skyline, trips to the supermarket stretch into hours when familiar faces emerge between the aisles, and relatives with homemade goodies drop by unannounced, sharing sourdough starters, homegrown olives and honey harvested in their backyards.Passers-by even say “hello” on their walks, a trait I’d found particularly lacking in city folk. And what a relief it is to ask for potato cakes, instead of those pesky potato scallops; to know that when someone is talking about the footy, they mean AFL.My work week rolls by with ease at a charming roadside cafe, greeting tradies, travellers and locals in search of the famous Nicho pie. My weekends are well-spent watching my cousins’ local football and netball games amid the footy field frosts.The author as a child (lef) enjoying the Gippsland Lakes.I’ve come to appreciate the comfort of mutual connections and shared histories – like being recognised by people who know my family, by one of my first employers, or by a boy from my primary school – after so many years have passed. The sense of community settles in.Lakes Entrance, East Gippsland.Most of all, I love that I can still recognise the bends of my school bus route between Bairnsdale and Sale, the roads that once led to birthday party bush-doofs, and the roo-prone tracks in between. From all those summers spent on the Gippsland Lakes, I can still taste the salt of Metung’s windswept whitecaps and feel the scorch of the Lakes Entrance sun, its freckled keepsakes now scattered over my skin. When driving down my town’s Main Street, I can recall a cascade of childhood memories within a couple of blocks: the carpark where I learned how to tie my shoelaces, the GP where I fainted after a blood test, the cinema where I had my first kiss.Moments that I had taken for granted as a teenager, now transformed into little treasures after too many years away.Returning to East Gippsland feels like reconnecting with an old friend: years might have passed, but underneath not much has changed. The gums along the Princes Highway have grown but the goanna carving has stayed; the Eagle Point jetty has been rebuilt but the summer memories have remained.And kids are still learning to ride their bikes by the Mitchell River.In a place that cycles through seasons of both bushfires and floods, downpours and droughts, beachside summers and snowy alpine frosts, I, too, had changed my outlook. After years in the city and overseas, and now, as I spend the European summer season in Italy, I reflect on my time in East Gippsland with refreshed gratitude – proud that Bairnsdale is where my story began.More:My happy placeOpinionFor subscribersAustraliaGippslandVictoriaGeorgia Dunkley is a travel writer and content creator based between Australia and Italy. With more than 5 years of experience within the travel and publishing industries, Georgia specialises in backpacking, solo female travel, adventure travel, and how younger generations are reshaping the travel industry. Her proudest travel moment was reaching the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro, 5895 metres above sea-level, in 2024. Follow her on Instagram @enjoy_bygeorgiaFrom our partners