I love the term 'psychogeography'. As human beings, we can't live in landscapes without having a relationship with them. It's the study of how the environment around us impacts our experiences, emotions, and behaviour, and considers the relationships between the environment and our mental state. How do different spaces can shape and influence our perception of the world?

I count myself lucky having grown up in a relatively wild environment of wild open spaces and wild open sea. Paths cut along the cliff top were like sheep tracks, with rickety stairs leading down to the sea. Now, those well worn paths are paved, suitable for everyone to walk, cycle and amble from the young to old. Torquay has grown from a sleepy town to a highly sought after place to live, and the geography has changed to accomodate that. 'Love where you live' is the oft used hashtag.

This walk today is from Point Danger, where there's a war memorial, down to the back beach and Torquay Surf Club, then over the next headland to Jan Juc and the Surf Club there and back again. It's a route I have done thousands of times - it's so imbued with memory I cannot separate the geography of the landscape with the geography of my own psyche.

Along the way are wooden carved seats, made by a local artist I've known all my life. They are reminscent of the whales and other sea creatures and waves here. Not last week dolphins were diving from the water.

As you walk along you pass the kiosk, which is relatively new to the area. These days it's more common to see people gather and chat and watch the ocean, even if they're not surfing. Everyone knows someone. I avoid it - someone I used to know works there and I'm not of a mind to bother making small talk with them as we've lost touch over the years for a good reason.

Passing the kiosk, with the beach on one side and a caravan park on the right where we'd meet boys over the summer, there's the Torquay Surf Club where we had underage discos (Blue Light) and get changed after a surf. Today it's dead flat - last week the surf was huge. Can you see the rocks like islands separate from the main point? There's a secondary point wave there that only experienced people surf as it's a bit heavier, and i's called Haystacks. Today it dawned on me why - I'd never thought about it before. Of course they look like haystacks, and given they would have been named when the land around was very rural and full of said haystacks, it's little wonder that's why the break was called that.

Then it's crossing the board walk at the Spring Creek river mouth. It never ceases to amaze me there's an actual boardwalk there. It's incredibly functional - in the old days you couldn't cross unless it was low tide and you were right by the opening by the sea, and even then you'd get your feet wet. I used to (illegally) take my horse over it - unheard of these days as it's too busy. She'd always try to roll in the water and I had to jump off and pull her up before she broke me or the saddle.

Once off the boardwalk you're on Rocky Point, looking back to the surf club and down onto the Haystacks below. It's a good spot to watch the surf on a big day as you get a sideways view instead of the usual front view. Last week I paddled the board from the rivermouth all the way to Jan Juc and had a swim with my mate. On flat, calm days it's a great thing to do.

These days there's a look out there with signs talking about the waves and the ocean, and sculptures and poetry. They mean nothing to me as they weren't there in my day - they aren't part of my psychogeographical map.

Along the cliffs, there's a sand track, and some of the steps are closed over with warnings of land slides. It's happening a lot - time does that to environments, but it does shock people as the ground under your feet is meant to be steady. It's dangerous enough to kill poeple and has before.

From up there I can see fisherman, dog walkers and walkers, and the black Jan Juc Surf Life Saving club. I used to learn to surf on both of these beaches, but Jan Juc was the town I lived in and my closest surf beach so I have a lot of memories there - of waves surfed, riding the horse there, boys I had crushes on.

From here I cut my walk short - the coastal path goes all the way along the coast for miles - and head back along the side of the golf course back toward Torquay. We used to take this route on drunken nights home from the pub. There's so many stories I could tell you about this place, but they'd be lost in translation between 1980's Australia and the rest of the world, so I'll leave them be.

By the time I got back, the tide had gone out a little and a tiny wave was forming, so I went out for some quick ocean time, so I could breath again.

With Love,

Are you on HIVE yet? Earn for writing! Referral link for FREE account here

r