The Burleigh Line

I’M calling it the Burleigh Line.

The border between the haves and the have-nots on the Gold Coast.

The spot where the money for transport, street-scaping, infrastructure and even police seems to run out.


It’s like being the youngest child in a large family – by the time the hand-me-downs get to you they are worn out or you get a cheap substitute.

And there are never any photos.

The Council recently surveyed Gold Coast businesses and residents to find out what their funding priorities were for the city budget.

Apparently, and not surprisingly, the vast majority of respondents were southern Gold Coasters.

Poor cousins to the trendy centres of Surfers Paradise and Broadbeach to the north, they felt that even when infrastructure, such as bus stops, was upgraded it was done on the cheap and looked ugly.

Despite being home to an international airport and the gateway to the Gold Coast, an extension of the light and heavy rail is as likely as the Socceroos winning a World Cup.

Chambers of Commerce on the southern end now plan to lobby Mayor Tom Tate for more funding and attention.

As representatives of businesses they want and need resources to keep the jobs and dollars rolling in.

But I suspect a lot of people actually prefer the retro feel and slightly isolated stretch to the border.

In fact, some – ok, that would be me – might say the southern end of the coast is the best part of the coast because it has not been over-commercialised or made up like a pig with lipstick on.

As you leave Burleigh and sweep around the bend towards Tallebudgera you can actually feel a change in atmosphere.

It’s like the old Gold Coast many of us experienced growing up – without nose-to-tail high rises and nightclubs and expensive restaurants and tacky souvenir shops.

Locals have not been entirely priced out of the beach side of the highway yet and the beaches are still relatively uncrowded.

Yes, I know it won’t stay like that forever.

The development of expensive high rise ghettos will eventually spread down there like a seething, seeping rash.

So we should enjoy it while we can – although a nice bus stop and a few plants wouldn’t hurt.

The Meddler

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