The Gold Coast has been a popular getaway for years. But no longer, write WAYNE FLOWER AND PAUL SHAPIRO, who reveal why the family favourite destination has gone to rot

Once admired for its glorious beaches and tourist-friendly nature, Australia’s Gold Coast has gone to the dogs. 

It’s been a slow crawl, but if this holiday season in the Queensland hotspot is any indication, the rot has fully set in. 

A walk through Surfers Paradise was once only blighted by the sound of the Aquaduck – an amphibious vehicle that turns heads with its loud quacking horn. 

Today, the streets are lined with suntanned homeless people, who sit staring blankly outside abandoned businesses. 

Down the road, a stone’s throw from Surfers Paradise’s iconic Q1 Tower, the homeless have set up camp in the dunes by the beach. 

It makes for depressing viewing as sun-loving families make their way past these shanties to frolic in the waves in their designer bathers. 

Not so long ago it would be hard to spot a homeless person on the streets of Surfers. 

As a Melburnian who has travelled to the Gold Coast for years, there was only ever one bloke – a man resembling Aussie actor Paul Hogan – who stood out. 

Tanned and lean, it made you wonder why more homeless people from down south hadn’t made the move north. 

Coolangatta, near the New South Wales border, is just as depressing, if not worse than Surfers. 

After an eight-hour drive with my teenage son, the Coolangatta Sands Hotel rejected our accommodation booking because he couldn’t prove he was 18. 

In fairness to the hotel, it was a condition in the ‘house rules’ buried way down at the bottom of the rental listing on bookings.com. But the young woman on the desk refused to be swayed. 

It was 5pm, we had nowhere to go and all we wanted to do was sit in the room and rest. 

Under QLD law, my son could have sat in the pub all night with me as I got plastered. 

Instead we were tossed on the street and with no vacancy anywhere under $500, we forced to spend an uncomfortable night in my car. 

Later that night, the pub had the cheek to complain to the booking agency that we hadn’t shown up. 

My complaint in writing to the manager went unanswered. 

Hospitality seems to have gone the way of decency on the ‘Goldie’. 

Try going to a restaurant there. 

While supposedly part of Queensland’s ‘charm’, laidback locals take the ‘wait to be seated’ sign very seriously. 

So much so that they often like to make you wait when there is no-one else in the joint. 

Even when you make a booking they’ll make you wait as they trundle off to set-up a table somewhere out back and don’t expect anyone to clear your table anytime soon. 

Fellow Melburnian Paul Shapiro conceded Surfers Paradise wasn’t anywhere near as bad as Sydney but he did lament the service. 

‘We stood at a the entrance of a restaurant for almost 15 minutes, no one came up to us to seat us,’ he said. 

‘I eventually approached a waiter but was ordered to “go back” where I was until finally we were seated. 

‘Despite having a booking we had to wait until another table up and left before we could be seated, that was the easy part, trying to get a waiter to take our order seemed too complicated for this Gold Coast institution.’

Shapiro said he witnessed ‘blatant wage theft’ at another popular main strip restaurant.

‘No such problem getting service here, we were at a 70-seat eatery and there was at least a dozen front of house staff. If they were all on at least the minimum wage then I’m Ichabod Crane,’ the former hospitality veteran said. 

Shapiro also warned tourists to avoid a late night Indian takeaway joint on the main strip.

‘The two curries I tried, a supposed chicken tikka masala and a purported vindaloo, both tasted burnt, looked the same colour and came straight out of a bain marie,’ he said. 

‘I suspect they’d been reheated a few times before being sold to unsuspecting customers, I’m lucky I didn’t die.’

Shapiro also said he was harangued by a marauding gang of unruly youths on scooters moments before entering the Indian slophouse. 

Lining-up seems to be the way locals like to torture their visitors. 

Don’t even think about trying to get on the Ripley’s Believe It or Not! 7D Moving Theatre ‘ride’ on a rainy day, of which there are plenty during January. 

Shapiro echoed concerns about Ripley’s Believe it or Not.

‘The real mystery is how this overpriced tourist trap has managed to stay open for several decades,’ he said. 

Wait times for the ride, which lasts less than 10 minutes, were pushing well over an hour on the day the Magic Millions was cancelled due to the region’s crap weather. 

And crap weather it has in spades. 

As a Melburnian, most might think it rich to call out bad weather. 

But the Gold Coast’s weather changes as quickly as Melbourne’s, and unlike Victoria’s capital, the cost of bad weather on the Goldie comes at a cost in time, money and emotional turmoil.

Theme parks effectively come to a standstill the moment lightning cracks in the distance. 

After waiting in line for more than an hour, customers are often forced to stand at the gates for another half hour while the distant storm buggers off. 

The moans of ‘I’m bored’ can be heard echoing across the hills. 

When we visited Movie World, the Scooby Doo ride was shut yet again – I haven’t been able to get on it during peak season for years.

In fact, I’ve never been able to get on it. 

Rides are closed for ‘maintenance’ despite seemingly having no-one visibly working on them and the Dirty Harry bar shut up shop hours before the park closed. 

Some staff didn’t even know who Dirty Harry was. 

Back at the beach, females daring to brave the surf alone ought be prepared for company. 

Like hungry piranhas, schools of blokes converge on them like its feeding time in the Amazon. 

At night, drunken youths tear along the beach footpaths on electric Lime bikes like its a MotoGP track. 

On the road, Green Cabs pedicabs blast you with music that would feel right at home in New Delhi. 

Motoring about, it’s not unusual to see people driving along major arterials on high-powered electric scooters. 

Shopping along the main strip is an experience in itself. 

I witnessed a teenager being shot with a gel blaster in full view of stunned customers. 

The welts on his back from the blasts drew blood.  

In all honesty, the Gold Coast still has a bit going for it. 

For one, it ain’t Victoria, which went to the dogs years ago thanks to former premier Dan Andrews. 

Many Victorians who have moved to the Gold Coast will swear it’s the best decision they ever made. 

Sitting outside the Surfers Paradise Surf Life Saving Club enjoying an ice cold schooner for prices that would embarrass a Melbourne publican, it is easy to forgive the negatives. 

Like a step back in time, one gets a feel for the good old days when the man who resembled Hoges was the only hobo on the block.