Huge pop stars lived in my suburb, but there are other reasons to love it

Come walk with me through Scarborough, as blissful a place as you might find.

It won’t take long, for it’s not a huge slab of land. It’s actually only a fragment of the larger Redcliffe Peninsula, the seaside locale to Brisbane’s north-east where two bridges – one named for the famed engineer Manuel Hornibrook, the other for the WWI veteran Ted Smout – shoot across Hays Inlet in Bramble Bay.

Like any peninsula, Scarborough has water on three sides, with the ceaseless ripples of Moreton Bay kissing its beaches.

As majestic as that sounds – and there’s plenty of natural beauty to celebrate in this part of the world – it would be folly to ignore the humans who have called it home.

Think footballers like Artie Beetson, Bunny Pearce and Petero Civoniceva, and actor William McInnes. Then there’s the Bullivants, Vaughan and Carmel – once owners of the Nature’s Own vitamin and supplements business. They built neighbouring his and hers mansions on Prince Edward Parade after amalgamating a few smaller allotments on one of the suburb’s more salubrious boulevards, with its groves of towering Moreton Bay figs.

Snoops were often seen snapping photos of the homes, one an ostentatious triple-storey structure, and the other more like a doll’s house on steroids, where life-sized animals appeared to cavort in a lush, poolside garden.

If Scarborough has celebrity runs on the board though, it’s mainly courtesy of the Bee Gees. The suburb of Redcliffe to the south even has a laneway named after them, decorated with statues of brothers Barry, Maurice and Robin Gibb. But it was in Scarby, as some locals call it, that the siblings (including youngest brother Andy, a star in his own right) actually lived.

When the Gibb clan migrated from England in 1958, they moved into a guest house in Oxley Avenue then settled in Fifth Avenue. Imagine being a neighbour to their early rehearsals for gigs at Redcliffe Speedway and Queensland coastal resorts, before the trio decamped to the Gold Coast, and then Sydney in 1963.

Putting all that aside, there’s plenty to love about Scarby: clean air, friendly residents who are passionate about the district, accessible and safe beaches, good schools and shops, and a low crime rate.

I’ve lived in Scarborough for the past two years, but my connection stretches back to the ’70s when my parents moved from Brisbane’s inner north with my youngest brother and me in tow. Sadly, mum and dad have checked out, but both are interred on the peninsula, as are an aunty and uncle.

As your guide, I’ll first lead you east along Eversleigh Road, beginning where it intersects with Ashmole Road, virtually in the shadow of Kayo Stadium, where the Dolphins rule. The road is mysteriously wide, the architecture eclectic. Where Eversleigh Road bisects Scarborough Road, we avoid a left turn, where we would catch sight of the sprawling Southern Cross Catholic College campus.

Instead, we stay true to our course and walk by the suburb’s eponymous primary school and then on to Queens Beach, a sliver of paradise where pooches run free and kite surfers defy gravity as they race past Drury Point towards Scarborough Beach.

Now watch your step, because this is where the magic happens.

Scarborough Beach Park abuts Moreton Bay on its eastern flank and to the west, Landsborough Avenue, which zigs one way, then zags another. I walk this way every day accompanied by my better half and our dog. The birdsong, the gentle swoosh of ripples breaking the shore, and countless greetings from passers-by are the soundtrack to our life.

Council workers tend to the park as if it were their own, cleaning public areas with almost military precision, much to the appreciation of visitors, who descend on the area each weekend and holiday period with the type of zeal a chip-hungry seagull could admire. Grab a picnic table or spread a blanket and watch as boats bob along between the shore and Moreton Island.

Some residents yearn for quieter days when Scarborough was still a secret, its streets were less cluttered, and no building was taller than any of the Norfolk pines, standing to attention where grass gives way to sand.

The aroma of coffee rides the breeze from Landing, a family-run cafe on the ground level of The Oscar, a multi-rise residential and commercial development on the former site of the movie theatre. With its oxide-coloured tables, Landing pays homage to the red cliffs that James Cook noticed in 1770, and its designer sausage rolls are next level. Not to mention the Breton buns, the croissants and brownies.

Scarborough is awash with dining options. Choose between any number of Asian or continental-themed restaurants, including Vietnamese, Indian, Japanese and Italian. Drop by the Friendly Grocer and they’ll prove the name is not misused.

Wander further around to Thurecht Parade, where sunsets roll on forever. Morgans offers muddies, sweet lip and prawns so fresh, it’s easy to think these little treasures should still be swimming. Dine in alongside the trawlers, or skip across to Jamieson Park, where Deception Bay reveals itself, and breathe in the beauty. Drop by the Scarborough Harbour Brewing Company and quench your thirst.

I can vouch for each and every one, which probably explains my expanding girth.

The Bee Gees’ old wooden house on Fifth Avenue is still standing, and Barry Gibb returned for a nostalgic visit as recently as 2024. “We fell into paradise when we got off that ship,” Gibb said at the time. “We didn’t know what hit us.”