The close and changing community of about 2000 residents, includes 36-year-old Pippa Budge. She moved from Melbourne to Newcastle seven months ago, and at the end of March she moved with her housemates to Carrington.

Most mornings, before she even looks at her phone, she throws on her clothes and walks along the Carrington loop, looking at the harbour and the birds.

"It's such a good way to start the day, when I disconnect first. You see the same people and the same dogs, and there's a bit of a community vibe," Budge says.

"It's a country town inside of Newcastle," says entertainer Matt McFarlane. "You've got no business going to Carrington unless you want to go to Carrington. You don't drive past there; you have to choose to turn right at the roundabout."

The Carrington Loop that Budge walks takes you over the scenic Cowper Street Bridge, offering views of the surrounding city. It will take you into Wickham where you'll pass what many call the "Tree of Knowledge," a majestic Morton Bay fig tree across from the Albion Hotel on Hannell Street. In the late '80s winos and derelicts would sit under the tree and drink until the sun came up.

Walk in the other direction, and you'll reach to the mangrove boardwalk, where you can spot bats at twilight and crabs during the day.

The island of Carrington emerged slowly out of the mangroves with ballast deposits from ships arriving from all over the world. Carrington resident Ted Coulin composed a document detailing the estuarine island's topography and history, beginning from the late 1700s up to the 1930s.

Onebygamba is believed to have been the local Aboriginal name for the area now known as Carrington. It means "large mound". It was also known as Chapman Island and Bullock Island. In 1892 it officially became Carrington, named after a mayor.

"It's surprisingly green," says Ray White Real Estate agent Brett Bailey. "The suburb of Carrington has one of the highest percentages of reserves and parkland in Newcastle suburbs."

Bordered by Throsby Creek and the Hunter River, so much of Carrington comes back to the water. The suburb is home to Australia's first large scale hydraulic power system, the Carrington Pumphouse, built in 1877. The landmark pumphouse was recently restored by the Newcastle Port Corporation, and may once again provide great service to its community, this time as a brewery, function centre or restaurant.

Fisherman Jeffrey Yates was born in Carrington in 1953, descending from a long line of fishers. His great grandfather, Joseph Higgerson, "Black Joe", was born in the 1870s and was the "row of the river." In the early 1900s, he'd catch boatloads of fish and give them away.

"Everyone there had a boat; that's what we knew when we were growing up. In the '70s and '80s the place got fished out. Me father used to go to the Throsby Creek. Them days it was just mud and drain. They'd come home with pounds of crabs and prawns," Yates says.

Yates remembers a different time when houses were much more affordable.

"My great great grandmother, she owned six houses at Carrington. She was doing sailors' washing. That's how she made her money and owned six houses. Evans was her last name," he says.

Brett Bailey, who lived in Carrington for a spell, has been selling real estate in Carrington since the 1990s. He says he's sold nearly half of all the houses that were on the market.

Bailey jokes it's as if someone picked up a country town and dropped it into the middle of the Newcastle Harbour.

Once he started selling in Carrington, he witnessed people outside of Newcastle beginning to move into the service education and health industries.

"Certainly the suburb has pivoted from being a working class suburb," he says. "What happened was when the BHP left all of a sudden, we had a lot of housing stock, very affordable, close to the city."

Buyers saw elements of inner city industrial suburbs like Port Melbourne, Balmain, or New Farm from Brisbane. They couldn't believe how cheap things were and how close it was to Newcastle.

"The gentrification was started outside the city and local Newcastle people caught on," he says. "It's increased more than 10 per cent on average per year for the last 10 years. This year we've seen a spike of 28 per cent."

Bailey never owned it, but the property he lived in in the 1990s was worth $80,000 at that time. Two years ago he sold it for $880,000 (with a new coat of paint and a new bathroom). He says if it sold now it would be in the seven figures.

Yates, a wharfie for the last 20 years, lived in Carrington through his 20s and now lives at The Junction. He remembers in the 1970s Carrington was "just a hole of a place".

"No one wanted to live there," he says. "If you're chatting up a girl, they didn't want to know about you if you say you're from Carrington. Now everyone wants to be there."

Carrington Bowling Club manager Jaci Lappin took over the Carrington Bowling Club in 2008, and now lives in Carrington as well. "When I got the job they didn't tell me it was $300,000 in debt to creditors and tax departments. There were only 212 members; 82 were bowlers. It took it a while to turn it around," Lappin says.

The club was built by coal trimmers and waterside workers. Founded in 1941, it started as a shed with hessian matts on the floor. The working class community built it, and it went through plenty of rough patches before Lappin got there.

When she started she was working 80 plus hour weeks. She had to have a no nonsense attitude with some of the locals.

"The first five years there was a fair bit of butting heads with people. I knew the direction. I had a strategic plan to give the members a safe, happy environment," she says.

Now the "Carro" has yoga, dogs, ukuleles, music festivals and solar power. For years she's been flying the Aboriginal and gay flags above the club. Inclusiveness is important to her, and it's also served her well.

For the last several years the pub has turned a profit and has money in the bank. It now has 4500 members, from all over Newcastle. They also have 270 dog members and donate money to Newcastle Dog Rescue.

The club is a cooperative. She's the manager, and she works for the members. She loves the fact that there's "no fat cat publican in the back."

She says, "I've watched kids grow up here now, had their 21st here, young blokes who were scallywags when they were 20 and now they've got families in their 30s."

One member is 74-year-old old Anthony "Tony" Hopkins, who has lived in Carrington his entire life. He was a postman for 35 years.

"Me father [Ernie Hopkins] was from around the area, he was on and off Carrington a couple of times," Hopkins says. "He started out as coal trimmer and then he transferred and went on to the cranes on to the wharf. Ended up driving electric and hydraulic cranes on the basin."

Hopkins was always aware of the suburb's reputation, which goes back to the old ship sailing days. He's heard the line, "Oh Carrington, I wouldn't go there". He remembers fist fights in and outside of the pubs, and lots of games of darts.

Colourful pubs are still part of the attraction of Carrington.

Zach Sholtz is the director of the Criterion on Bourke Street. They took over the pub in October 2018, renovated the building and opened in December. "We have a very diverse client base here at The Cri, from early 20s through to the oldies wandering the island on the sunny weekends," he says.

Luke Tilse opened the Young Street Hotel in December of 2020. It was originally built as the Oriental Hotel, and reopened as the upmarket Carrington Place a decade ago and then shut at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic in March 2020.

Tilse signed a lease in October and brought in changes, including a kids' area and a beer garden. He wasn't specifically looking to buy in Carrington, but he realised that beautiful architectural buildings don't come up often and this was his chance to do something with heritage; a building that had "character without even trying".

Now that he's been here for a while, he's realising it's a very unique suburb.

"It's very close knit. I'm on the Carrington Community Council; it's just amazing the closeness of the suburb and the pride people have who have lived there," he says. "People are constantly talking about how long they've lived here - not Newcastle - Carrington. They're fiercely proud of it."

He loves all the different venues in Carrington and tried to get into the Criterion Hotel years before. He loves the Earp Brothers (gin maker and bar), The Styx, Seven Seas and Franky's and cafes like Cafe Inu and Ground Up.

"These are all really cool venues. If you were to throw one in each suburb, it would be an institution," Tilse says. "It would be talked about. We seem to have all these venues in one suburb."

Further down Young street is Franky's which has developed quite a fun and funky reputation despite the fact that it's "the least opened restaurant in Newcastle" according to the singing waiter Matt McFarlane.

McFarlane and Hua Fan (Franky) have been friends for many years. They opened the restaurant together nearly three years ago, and McFarlane pulled out last year during COVID.

The idea to start Franky's happened while Fan was in China. "In China, I call Matthew, 'do you want to do noodle business with me?' I'm coming back; we're going to get rich'," Fan says.

It took them a while to find the location and at first they sold out of a food truck at the Showgrounds.

"A few months later Matthew told me 'this shop is available, do you want to have a look?' Matthew said 'this is good place.' I said 'I trust you, let's do it'," Fan says.

It's noodles, dumplings and music and it has evolved over time. Fan looks after the food and McFarlane brings the atmosphere. Well-trained jazz kids and ex-conservatorium students play in Franky's house band every Thursday night. They have a soloist on Friday and Breeze plays on Saturday night; that's when McFarlane becomes the singing waiter.

The band was playing without him while he was working and he knew most of the songs they were playing. They had him get up and rehearse with them and the rest is history.

"I'm still walking around like I'm in charge, but everybody knows that I'm not," he jokes.

They chose the specific venue in Carrington because previous tenants, Antojitos, had done well there. It had a lot of character and good energy. It's also BYO and right next to the bottle shop.

"There's a lot of money in there now," McFarlane says when reflecting on changes in Carrington. "Ours backs out onto public housing; we're on the cheaper side of the street. We get a lot of people hanging out."

Not that anyone seems to mind the gregarious community. McFarlane mentions their next door neighbour Billy Lamb, "the official Lord Mayor of Young Street".

"His house is pretty much an art gallery; he sits there painting. We love each other, but him and Franky are something special," McFarlane says.

"I get along really good with Aboriginal people," Fan says of Lamb.

"He's brought life into Carrington," Lamb says of Fan.

Lamb and Fan spend plenty of time together, and Lamb is always happy to have a chat.

Lamb can be found on Young Street most days selling his paintings. The Wiradjuri man is originally from Trangie, and he's been in Carrington for 42 years, first arriving in Newcastle to play football.

"I took up art probably 30 year ago. I had a mate come down, do a bit of Aboriginal art. I sat down with him and started doing it. I was like 'Jesus Christ, this is good depression medicine this,'" he says. "The bloke that taught me was Richard Campbell. Richard taught me how to paint."

Lamb got started and hasn't stopped. He reckons he gives more away than he can sell, and Franky's sells his postcards.

He has lots of memories in Carrington.

"There used to be eight pubs here. BHP fed the whole of Newcastle. You could buy a house here for 10 or 11 thousand dollars when I come here. Now you're looking at a million plus for a dump," he says.

For Lamb, Carrington has always been safe.

"You're on an island surrounded by beautiful ocean mate. It's the most beautiful place I've ever lived. I'm in the best spot in Australia," he says.

For Jody Abra, from Minmi, the decision to move to Carrington had a lot to do with their dog culture. She moved here to get closer to the shops and the beach. She considered moving to Merewether, but she liked Carrington better. The locals felt friendlier, like country people. She loved that she could walk her dog around the water and the leash-free area where everyone would be out with a beer and their dogs.

"Everyone knew everyone by their dog's name. You wouldn't say 'hello John' you'd say 'hello Wolfy'," she says.

She liked that the prices were cheaper, and didn't realise that the place had a bad reputation. When she first moved, there seemed to be more break-ins, but now she and other residents get a community newsletter that keeps them up-to-date. The crime seems to be lower. She likes the Criterion and the Carro Bowlo because they're both dog friendly.

Her dog Occy died three years ago, but she said everyone in Carrington will probably remember her as the crazy dog lady carting a big white Labrador around in the back of her pushbike.

Cafe Inu is so dog friendly that the name "Inu" translates "dog" from Japanese to English. Come in for a coffee, and you'll be sure to meet Bear, the three-legged dog and face of the café.

"He's been working here, flat out, for eight years every day," Café Inu "right hander" Shoko Kasanami says.

Kasanami has been working with the café since it opened in 2013, coming on board with the owners Miwa and Peter Haas, who live in Carrington. They serve standard café food with a Japanese twist. "We do like to think we're pretty open-minded, chilled-out, everyone calls it 'happy place'," Kasanami says. "Miwa is the barista. We've got a few great Japanese chefs here. I just talk here, I don't do anything else but talk."

The Haases opted to start a café there because Miwa had a hospitality background and Peter is a fitter. They saw a sign that the restaurant was up for lease, bought it and got busy.

Kasanami says she's never heard of any other place where people move around the corner just a block or two away from their original home.

"I find it really hilarious. That shows how people like Carrington," she says. "It used to be pretty rough suburb here, but I think people are getting rid of that mindset."

Japanese-owned restaurant Kitami has been operating in Carrington also since 2013. Chef Nobuyuki Aoki has 25 years of experience. "I decided to open in Carrington because I felt the business district in this suburb would grow, with the surrounding coal mine ports and the vast opportunity in this small town," he says.

Five years ago Chris Rabbitt moved himself and his partner to Carrington. Later he also moved his 20-year-old software business, Intradata, to a "comfy and funky" warehouse in Carrington. He was previously living and raising his kids in Merewether Heights.

He found Carrington easy for walking and cycling. with extraordinarily friendly people, particularly the local pubs. "Obviously, it's getting more popular. And real estate's hot," he says.

The histories of Carrington are so different to the emerging views. Tony Hopkins will tell you about the kids and the slushy soft mud in Throsby Creek. He remembers the area being swampy with rubbish, trees, dead cows and pumpkins from nearby farms coming to the end of the creek towards Tighes Hill. "We'd make our own boats out of wrought iron and pack 'em up with tar and float them in the creek. Some lasted a bit longer than others," he says.

It wasn't until people from outside of Newcastle started buying in Carrington that Novocastrians began realising it was a desirable place to live.

Brett Bailey's daughter Laura Hidalgo and her husband Michael bought what they thought would be an investment property in Carrington and then decided they'd rather build a family home for themselves when they have children.

Pippa Budge sees both the new developments and observes people sleeping rough in the street. She appreciates the businesses which work graciously with the existing community.

"I've got an outsider's eyes, but it feels like a place that has changed quickly," she says.

The Carrington loop she walks is a great way to get a small taste of the gentrifying island. Start from Honeysuckle at dusk for a range of sensory experiences. Smell the fish market and then the bat guano. See people fishing under the bridge. See the sunset reflecting in the water with the city and harbour lights glimmering.

It has grit but it has glitz. From mud to money and brawls to brunches, the tide is clearly turning on this small village.