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Published: February 10th 2009
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West of Melbourne lies the Great Ocean Road, a scenic drive along the coast which stretches for a couple of hundred miles. We decided we'd had enough of Darby and Joan bus trips for now, so we hired a car and decided to take a few days and relax on the journey. We were persuaded by the slick salesman at the car hire office to take a SatNav system with us to help us along our way. It did help at times, but it certainly gave us a few laughs. Neither of us had ever used a Sat Nav before, and we didn't receive much in the way of instructions, so there was a lot of trial and error involved. For a start, you couldn't just type the name of the town where you were going, you had to enter the exact address, which of course we didn't know, so we had some fun making up addresses, such as no. 1 Shit Creek, Apollo Bay for example. Then when we were told to do a U-turn in the middle of the motorway after we had missed a turn-off, the air was blue as our replies to the posh woman's voice were
Port Fairy
Little Joey less than polite. (Why are they always female?)
After the novelty wore off we turned her off and stuck her in the boot. I invited Phyl to join her, now that would have been peaceful, but she insisted on staying in the passenger seat.
So, the Great Ocean Route. It was a pleasure driving along here, hardly any traffic on the road, and lots of stopping off points to view the magnificent coastal scenery, which we enjoyed immensely. The most spectacular part was a series of rock formations known as the Twelve Apostles. There were lots of signs warning of kangaroos and koalas, not that they were going to eat you, they just didn't want you to run them over, but we didn't manage to spot any.
The towns along the way were a little bit over-sold by the guide books though. We were expecting lively little towns with bustling harbours with teeming bars and restaurants. What we got were quiet, no I think the word is 'dead', little places with not much to do in the evening. As we had planned to spend 2 nights out here, we wished we had cut that down a
bit, done the journey quicker and stayed in Melbourne a bit longer and gone to the cricket. But you make these choices and don't always get it right, though we hadn't done too badly so far on this trip.
The maps were strange - all the towns appeared to be the same size. We stopped at one 'major town' called Princetown for some breakfast, and it consisted of two wooden shops and a camp site big enough for about a dozen tents. Breakfast was OK though, but we were a bit surprised to be charged $A17 for two teas and two slices of fruit toast.
We spent one night at a place called Port Fairy, which as I said was a bit dead, but we went for a stroll in the evening, and all was redeemed when we went by some bushes and out hopped a little kangaroo. He was a bit nervous, but stayed long enough to pose for some photos and then hopped away again. We could leave Australia happy now!
The journey back to Melbourne started pleasantly enough. It was a bit cloudy in Port fairy, but by the time we reached Warnnambool the
Great Ocean Road
Twelve Apostles (or some of them) sun was shining brightly. Warnnambool was a place we had flashed through quickly on our way out, but on the way back we realised that there was a bit more to the place, and drove into town before finding a superb surfing beach. So we parked up, and as we stepped out of our cool, air-conditioned car, we got the shock of our lives as we were hit by a blast of searing heat. The wind must have been near gale-force but it was the hottest wind either of us had ever experienced. We stayed on the beach for a while, constantly dipping our bodies into the sea to cool off, but after an hour or so we could stand it no more, and noticed that the locals were all leaving too, so we decided to head back for Melbourne a bit earlier than planned.
As we headed back down the Princes Highway, we had little idea of the tragedy that was to unfold. The wind seemed to get stronger and stronger, and we kept having to avoid debris strewn across the road by the wind. The outside temperature recorded on the dashboard was by now 43 degrees. We stopped in a place called Terang, hoping to get a spot of lunch. The streets were deserted, it was like a ghost town. The only person we saw was the cafe owner, shifting his umbrellas indoors. We went inside for lunch, and the staff in there seemed very nervous as they told us how the conditions reminded them of "Ash Wednesday", which happened in the mid-eighties, during which a number of people died in the bush fires. Their nervousness seemed to increase, as you might expect, when the Fire Brigade truck zoomed past the cafe with its sirens going and its lights flashing.
We continued gingerly on our journey and as we approached a place called Camperdown, we could see columns of smoke in the distance, and as the road turned it seemed we were headed straight for the fires. Just then we were stopped by a road block, where a woman told us the fire had "jumped the highway", so we could go no further. She directed us to a place called Cobden, from where we should take the Stony Ford Road. Of course we had no idea where these places were, and our map was a bit limited, so it was time to dig the posh woman out of the boot. She was no help, as she kept taking us back towards the fire. After driving up a dead end and another U-turn, we thought we were on the right road when we came across another road block. The police lady redirected us round the fire area again, and we eventually rejoined the Melbourne Road, on the Eastern side of the fire, with a bit of help from our friend the Sat Nav. It was all a bit nerve-wracking, as the high winds were whipping up the fires, and no-one could be certain in which directions they were spreading.
But we eventually reached Melbourne safe and sound. When we saw the news on TV we realised our slight inconveniences had been nothing compared with the disaster that had befallen the area east of Melbourne. Many people had lost their homes, and there were at least a dozen people dead. The death toll is 166 and rising as I type this from the safety of Auckland. It's a really sad note to end on, and we are thanking our lucky stars that we got off so lightly.
One final thing. When we reached our hotel near the airport, expecting a peaceful arrival and a quiet evening, we were surprised to find the place heaving with people, most of whom were queuing in the restaurant. When we asked someone what was going on, we were told that all these people were passengers on a Quantas flight, which had taken off, the engine had blown, and they had had to do an emergency landing immediately. So all these people had been brought to the hotel while another flight could be arranged for them. Another near-disaster! What a day to forget!
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