I’m not a nervous flyer, yet waiting to board my flight from Adelaide to Whitsunday Coast Airport, I find myself pacing. About to go on holiday with my husband and two daughters, I should be brimming with excitement.
Yet my stomach is in knots. I'm second-guessing every interaction with staff and strangers – something that my past self wouldn't recognise.
Travel has always been transformative for me, and this trip – heading to Airlie Beach, a small town on one of the 74 islands that make up the Whitsundays, an archipelago just off the coast of Queensland – feels like catching a glimpse of the world through another lens. This is because, for the first time, I'm embarking on a beach holiday wearing a hijab.
After losing my hair to cancer last year, I slowly started to cover up. Turbans at first, followed by scarves. Thankfully, my health challenges are now behind me, but my decision to cover up has stayed. Because, as well as a practical change, the decision was also routed in religion.
The commitment to wearing a hijab was not an easy one. I converted to Islam 10 years ago, yet only after facing a life-threatening illness did I decide to take this big step. My faith got me through the toughest battle of my life, and I want my hijab to show my love for my religion, and serve as a reminder to myself and the outside world of who I am: a proud Muslim woman.
The flight is just shy of three hours, and the tropical heat hits me as soon as I land. My instinct is to take off my cardigan – until I remember that I am wearing a top with short sleeves on the flight. I make a mental note for next time. Heading to BIG4 Adventure Whitsunday Resort, a family-friendly resort set to be our home for the next three nights, we pile into the transfer bus and start thinking about dinner.
It’s after 10pm by the time we arrive. At this hour, the supermarkets are closed and our only options are pubs or pizza takeaway. We choose the latter and are soon eating warm vegetarian pizza, as the chain was unable to provide halal meat.
The next morning, we wake to the sound of children laughing, clearly making the most of every minute they can in the activity-packed resort. Once we're out the door, my own two run between the mini golf course, the water park, the petting zoo and the children's club, unable to decide what to do first.
The vibe is definitely laid-back across the resort – barefoot in board shorts is not an unusual sight. While great in one way, it does leave me a little anxious that I'll feel like a fish out of water rocking up to the pool in my burkini.
It's true, I am the most covered person by a mile – although I do spot a few other women in hijabs during the week-long trip. I receive some second glances, but they feel more inquisitive than unkind. By the time evening comes and we’re sprawled on the lawn for a movie under the stars on the big screen, I’ve forgotten my earlier unease. Everyone's too busy soaking in the simple, old-fashioned fun.
On day four, we drag our reluctant children away from the resort to explore the diverse landscapes of the Whitsundays, staying a further four nights at Pinnacles Resort. On the weekend, we head into town to explore Lions Airlie Beach Community Market (every Saturday between 7am and 1pm) on the foreshore, where we meet friendly locals running quirky artisan stalls. Here there are no stares, only smiles. Afterwards, we wander to the town lagoon – a vast man-made pool overlooking the Coral Sea, with shaded toddler zones and sweeping lawns.
Finding halal dining in Airlie Beach isn’t easy. Few restaurants advertise certification, so it pays to phone venues directly. At The Deck Airlie Beach, however, the manager not only understands halal requirements, but also explains the restaurant’s processes in great detail. That reassurance, along with warm hospitality, make the meal unforgettable – I indulge in harissa lamb and a freekeh bowl, my husband tucks into a prawn pizza and my daughters share a beef burger and fish and chips.
Other gourmet highlights include fresh juices and relaxed vibes at Fruit n Rootz; rich, full-bodied coffee at Bohemian Raw; and fried fish and chips from Whitsunday Seafood Bar, which we eat on the sand overlooking the sparkling blue ocean.
Not every experience is a success. My birthday, in particular, turns into a comedy of errors. After a scenic stop at Big Mango (a quirky roadside attraction featuring a giant mango, symbolising the country's agricultural success, and a mango-flavoured ice cream stall below) and a beachside stroll and tumble in Bowen, we set off for a celebratory dinner. Expecting a high-end beachfront venue, I’ve accidentally booked an Outback-style Australian bush pub.
As we enter Khe Sanh, an iconic Australian ballad blares from the speakers as the crowd sways with drinks in hand. We're not exactly a natural fit. A little far from town, we stay for dinner anyway. Surprisingly, they are able to provide halal meat, and the fare isn't bad at all – we have chicken parmigiana all round.
Fortunately, the region offers countless highlights to balance any minor mishaps. A half-day boat trip with Cruise Whitsundays delivers us to the pristine sands and turquoise waters of Whitehaven Beach, with its palm trees and vivid marine life. To my surprise, my patterned full-coverage swimsuit doubles as the most stylish stinger suit on board – for once, I am ahead of the trend.
We also venture inland for a crocodile safari at Whitsunday Crocodile Safari complete with bush tucker lunch; discover the shaded 2.9km track leading to Cedar Falls waterfall; and spend an afternoon at a Whitsunday Gold coffee plantation. Each experience reveals another layer of the archipelago beyond its famous beaches.
What makes this trip truly memorable, though, is more than the picturesque sights. Travelling in a hijab forces me out of my comfort zone. The fear of prejudice and being judged weighed heavily on me before departure, but in reality, the harshest critic was myself. The locals we encounter are welcoming, some curious, all warm.
I learn to embrace this covered version of myself – and I am reminded that travel often challenges us to confront our assumptions.
