Imagine if Gordon’s Bay was better. It would have less people. It would have less music from an iPhone. You could sit, sand free, on a rock – but not have to abseil down a wall of seaweed and cutty mollusc shells to take a dip. You’re imagining Little Bay.
It’s hard to believe that behind Long Bay Prison sits a gaping inlet with ultramarine water and a shoreline equal parts sand and flat rock. But it does, and on a weekday it’s lonely. That’s because you’ve got to defy instinct, and cross intensely-laboured golf courses with no visible evidence of the unbuttoned sanctuary I’m projecting.
Embellished with rock pools, sea snails, a chapel on its crest and self-sustainable-living inspired homes, it’s hard to remember that the Bra Boys and seriously a million other baddies are just moments away. Dig those toes into the sand (or rock) and forget. It’s easy.









