Great Ocean Road (June 27 - 29, 2006)

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Great Ocean Road
June 27 - 29, 2006

Tuesday
After waking up and checking out of our Melbourne apartment we picked up our rental car, conveniently and surprisingly located just a few blocks away. Before beginning our drive west from Melbourne we went back to the Royal Botanical Gardens for tea and scones. The café, which had some of the best scones and fresh cream we had come across, is situated near the center of the gardens with a beautiful view of a lake. This made up for the much more difficult than necessary drive navigating one way streets and tram crossings. It was also confusing to get out of Melbourne without going on the toll road.

Our intention for the next few days was to explore the scenic Great Ocean Road along the coastline of Victoria west of Melbourne, turning around at about halfway between Melbourne and Adelaide. The drive would cover several celebrated areas of the south coast, including, from east to west, The Surf Coast, Cape Otway, and The Shipwreck Coast. We would skim the northern edge of the Tasman Sea along the Bass Strait taking us through the stunning Angahook Lorne, Otway, Port Campbell and Twelve Apostles parks. The road itself opened in 1932 and was constructed by returned World War I soldiers as a tribute to their fallen comrades. The Great Ocean Road runs, officially, from Melbourne’s feeder city of Geelong some 270 kilometers to Warrnambool.

Our first stop was Torquay, tabbed by Lonely Planet and a good number of roadside signs, as the surfing capital of Australia. A few kilometers from town, through hilly green pasture land, there are broad beaches that break far enough out to give surfers a nice long ride. Despite the cold and the drizzle, which did not appear to discourage the surfers at all, we stopped to watch the action at two different beaches, Point Danger and Bells Beach, the latter the site of an annual world championship surfing contest. The seaside cliffs, long beaches, and surfers bobbing up and down on one side of the road with sheep and cows grazing on idyllic farm pasture on the other was quite pleasant.

We stopped back in Torquay for coffee and a sandwich, choosing between two neighboring cafes for the place that advertised wireless internet (if it has it, you can’t connect to it). True to the spirit of friendly business competition the guy at the café next door stopped to ask why we had not chosen his establishment and promised internet access in the future.

We made slow progress from Torquay as we stopped to admire the beautiful coast at nearly every pull out. There were surfers pretty much everywhere we stopped as well. We can not vouch for the quality of the surf but the sheer quantity of coastline suitable for at least a mild ride is amazing. We stopped at Split Point Lighthouse in Aireys Inlet, the first of several historic points of navigation for weary ship captains navigating the rocky coastline and the Antarctic winds. There are numerous pull outs along the route and it is easy to take your time here, particularly as if the driver is to enjoy the enchanting scenery you have to pull over frequently.

As we moved west we began to see signs warning drivers to watch for koalas. The rocky shores and thick forests along the roadside did not really match up with the habitat we would have envisioned for the famous “bears,” but we were excited to be in an area where seeing one was even possible.

That night we stayed at the new hostel in Apollo Bay. The town is an intimate and charming sliver of restaurants and parks and almost everything works out to be within walking distance once you park. The hostel was mostly empty but as nice and modern as could be with a deluxe kitchen and several patios enclosed by huge windows. We ate at Lou’s that night and heartily enjoyed his pizza, pasta, salad and an awesome strawberry crepe. And there is an actual Lou, complete with a huge, charming smile, running things. As it was winter time and we were skirting the southernmost tip of Australia the sun set very early taking Amy with it.

Wednesday
Our day started with a toastie (what we in America would call a toasted sandwich or grilled cheese) for breakfast. The addicting combination of melted cheese, ham, and tomato becomes more alluring every time we eat one. We continued along the Great Ocean Road, veering away from the coast and into the beautiful Great Otway National Park. The park’s rainforest is dense and clean, upsetting most images one might have of a rainforest. Unlike the steaming, vine covered pictures conjured up by Tarzan movies, the park hosts towering gum and eucalypt tress and more sparse ground cover. The “canopy” here is not so much layered as it is uniform among the various groves of bone-colored tree trunks.

Within the park, south from where the Great Ocean Road slices across it, is Australia’s oldest mainland lighthouse, the Cape Otway Lightstation, constructed in 1848 after several tragic accidents along the rocky coast. After paying the $11 AUD per person entry fee we toured the lighthouse, the telegraph house, the workshop (now converted to a tiny but informative museum), and a bunker from WWII. While every care has been taken to preserve the property the bunker is unpreserved and, according to a sign near the outpost, “left to nature.” Before departing we stopped in a small living room near the café for a 30 minute movie about the lighthouse and the shipwrecks that occurred both before and after the construction of the beacon. Looking out from the lighthouse on the edge of the cliff, facing into the relentless waves and cold Antarctic winds, it is easy to imagine the peril faced by those who sailed this strait.

Following a lunch of peanut butter and honey sandwiches, chips and Tim Tams in the car we headed back to the Great Ocean Road. Before reaching the main road something in one of the roadside trees caught our eyes. At a glance it looked like a bee hive but upon further examination we noticed it was a koala about ten feet above the ground. While we were not able to get a clear view of the animal as it was wedged between two branches we were very close to it. We knew we would have other opportunities to see koalas as we headed north to some of Australia’s famous animals attractions but seeing one in the wild was immensely satisfying. “Wild,” while accurate, seems like an inappropriate word to describe a koala. Unless they are eating they appear about as threatening as a slow lethargic teddy bear. We’re sure koalas can be tempermental and that something, somewhere, fears the wrath of these beasts, but we can’t imagine a scenario where one of these fluff balls could threaten so much as a twinkie.

The stretch of the Great Ocean road leading into the town of Port Campbell is highly renowned for the variety of stone formations sculpted by the Antarctic winds and waves. Port Campbell National Park, which is adjacent to the Twelve Apostles Marine National Park, is home to sheer 70 meter high limestone cliffs that tower above the rough seas. Over thousands of years the waves, winds and tides blowing up from Antarctica have thrashed the soft rock, eroding and undercutting the continent’s fringe. This erosion has created stunning features, including rock stacks, gorges, islands, arches and blowholes (essentially tunnels deep in to the cliff sides, hidden save for a “blowhole” deep inland).

At the Gibson Steps, which were carved into the cliff itself, we dropped down to the beach for our first up close glimpse of the power of the waves as they end their journey from the bottom of the world. The beach was broad and flat and with the massive waves on one side and the sheer cliffs on the other we felt pretty small and vulnerable. We walked along the beach for a few minutes before retreating back above sea level. Watching the crashing waves at “eye level” was quite intimidating (Amy was sure the waves were going to get us).

From this beach we were also able to glimpse the first of the rock stacks known as the 12 Apostles, so named for their number and proximity to one another. The rocky features, disconnected from the land and surrounded by pounding surf, are at once stark and beautiful. We made a stop just up the road at the Twelve Apostles Visitors Center, which was short on information but long on parking, bathrooms, and walking platforms that provided great views of the coast and the Apostles.

Before pulling into the town of Port Campbell for the night we made two more stops. The first stop was at Loch Ard Gorge, a beautiful example of erosion at work, the gorge takes its name from a ship that wrecked and sank nearby in 1878. Of the Loch Ard’s 36 passengers and 18 crew there were only two survivors. Loch Ard Gorge is easily accessible to visitors via a steep wooden staircase and descending to the beach provides keen exposure to the forces of wind and sea that shaped it. The roughly carved “box canyon” gorge appears to fill with crashing water at high tide. With the open water on one end and stalactite caves on the other it was again easy to feel a little trapped. As dramatic a scene as Loch Ard Gorge provides, particularly when you consider the struggle of the two exhausted shipwreck survivors attempting to come ashore, our next stop would prove even more stunning.

We reached “the blowhole” as the sun was setting. The blowhole is an opening blasted out by churning ocean waters that have tunneled inland under the earth. It is simply a hole in the middle of a brush covered field, more than one hundred meters from the sea, and but for the small wooden fence and the periodic roar of the unseen tide you could easily stumble into the thing. Further on we climbed down into the mouth of the tunnel that leads to the blowhole and perched on a viewing platform for an intimate view of the raging white water forced through the rocks. The cave leading to the blowhole is as black as ink and the periodic crashing of water in and out is chilling. The noise is tremendous and the rapidly rising and falling water levels beneath the shallow platform made our hearts race. Swimming in or out of the area seems simply impossible and we can only imagine the horror of the shipwreck victims who were swept into the chasm (reports claimed that bodies were visible through the blowhole for a short time after the 1858 wreck but none were found when recovery efforts began).

We slept at Port Campbell Cabin and Camping Park that night, quite content not to be sleeping in the cold campers we passed on the way to our cabin. Our smug superiority passed quickly when we got to our room and saw the little space heater that we pretty much had to sit on to keep warm. The cabin was lovely and spacious, and we are sure perfectly functional in warmer weather. Port Campbell’s offerings for dinner were somewhat limited and we had our choice of pizza or fish and chips from the gas station. The gas station actually had a remarkable menu and we came away with dim sim, which is a kind of weird fried sausage, potato cakes, calamari, fries, and chicken tenders (and a bag soaked to near transparency by grease…). We devoured our fries and sampled everything else from our “sounded better in theory” meal before relaxing with cups of tea to plan out our next steps.

Thursday

Thursday morning we concluded the scenic portion of our coastal drive with a trip to the Arch and London Bridge (which, as you may well know from nursery rhymes, has fallen down. Seriously, the rock formation known as London Bridge collapsed a few years ago). We made a stop at Martyr’s Bay, which resembles a more serene Twelve Apostles without the crowds, before driving on to Warrnambool (the Great Ocean Road drive ends about 12 km east of Warrnambool). We had planned to stop in Warrnambool for groceries and internet to plan whether we would continue west or begin the return to Melbourne and on north. We had believed the town to be larger than it actually is and struck out on finding internet access, but we did make a visit to Cheese World just outside of town (the cheese was good but the lack of commercial sensibilities was disappointing - no “My ___ Went To Cheese World And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt” t-shirts?!?!?). We did take a walk around the attractive Stingray Bay on the edge of Warrnambool. We would hear on the news a day or two later that Stingray Bay, like much of the coast subject to unexpected and powerful waves, was the location where a whole family was recently swept out to sea.

Rather than continue west to the small fishing town of Port Fairy we turned east to take the inland road back to Melbourne. The inland route, Princes Highway, lacks both the twists and turns of the Great Ocean Road and the coastal scenery, but boasts some beautiful farm country and lovely small towns. We arrived in Geelong, about an hour from Melbourne, as the sun set and considered staying there. Aussies were near-unanimous in advising us to stay off the roads as the nocturnal critters came out after dark, but we pressed on to Melbourne (as it turns out, a heavily trafficked, well-fenced stretch of road).

We pulled into Melbourne around 6:30 and checked into another very nice and modern hostel in south Melbourne. Despite the relatively late hour we decided to head out to the local drive-in to catch the opening night showing of the new Superman movie. Neither of us had been to a drive-in for many years and we thoroughly enjoyed the chips and cheeseburgers (our attitudes were somewhat more split on the movie, which Amy enjoyed and Roger has grown to loathe - an A+ to the filmmaking geniuses who could satisfy Amy and disappoint a lifelong Superman fan). Upon returning to the hostel Amy promptly retired while Roger did laundry and explored late-night hostel life (essentially sitting in the lounge alone reading and watching Alias).

It is hard to imagine a more scenic and enjoyable stretch of road for a tourist than the Great Ocean Road. From the surf havens near Melbourne to the intersections of rainforest and Antarctic winds to the majestic rock formations it is an absolute delight. And while we took our time we only skimmed the sur

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Photos

Stingray Bay
This is where we later found out a family had been swept out to sea when an unexpected large wave hit.

Bells Beach
Surfers galore