I’m getting closely acquainted with the State of Victoria at the moment. For the most part it’s grey and cold, landscapes of gently rolling farmland faintly resembling Wiltshire in November. There are some things to admire about country Victoria, one of them being the faint reminiscence with Wiltshire in November. There seem to be more country roads and little towns and farms and tea shops and wineries packed into a relatively small space – a scene as rare in Australia as a sane and progressive approach to dealing with that marauding invasion of scary boat people.
To be honest though, as pleasant as the countryside can be, it is just a tad boring.
It lacks that pure loveliness that is Devon countryside, probably the best countryside in the world. Thankfully we know that Australia excels when it comes to coast though, and just a short dribble out of the paddocks leads to that icon of Australian road trips, the so good it’s Great Ocean Road.
One of the great things about the ocean road is the diversity along its route. There is the Surf Coast, which I think is named after the number of like dude shops in Torquay. Yes, that’s right, Torquay. Which is pretty much the start of the road closest to Melbourne. The other end, near Peterborough (yes, that’s right...), is called the Shipwreck Coast,
mostly because all the flashes from millions of coach tour cameras distract unscrupulous sailors, causing them to crash into the jagged sandstone rocks. There is a middle bit to the road too, called the Not Really Coast Coast, meandering as it does in nauseous curves through rainforest and farmland.
Clearly though, the best part is the Neil Absolutely Loves Driving Along This Bit Coast, also known as the 50 kilometre ribbon clinging to the edge of Australia between the laid back towns of Lorne and Apollo Bay. Stunningly, this was the scene for the best weather of the trip, beautiful blues of a Saturday morning demanding numerous photo stops and bits of fresh air.
The scenery is so distracting that you need to be reminded that you should be driving on the left in Australia. I think that’s provided for our wrong-sided driving foreign friends, but it’s also there as a call to be brave: take that left part of the road around that narrow corner as you drive
westward, sticking as close to the two hundred metre drop down into the ocean as you can. If you get chance, have a look down and spot the sharks waiting! Anyway, as I proved, it’s easier to drive on the right than you imagine it might be!
The reward for the brave driver who makes it to Apollo Bay (and let’s face it, most people do make it), is some lunch in rather nice winter warmth and a chance to amble along the beach and harbour. Soak it all up before those white fluffy clouds grow up and the coast transforms from the sunny surf ridin chillaxville to Van Diemen’s ShipWreckLand and Aquapark...
So this is the part where the Great Ocean Road becomes less great and drastically less oceanic. Basically, a big lump of hill and bush and rock and tangly rainforest gets in the way, and the road makes its way in a circuituous fashion through some of this bush and tangly rainforest. Starting out as a pleasant contrast this landscape gradually gives way to something more barren and bleak and even boring, so much so that when the coast comes back into view again it’s a bit like that childhood trip out to the beach and the excitement of the first sighting of the sea. And what a sighting, as now we are without doubt in a land of shipwrecks and day trips.
Within a short stretch of this coastline, clustered aroudn Port Campbell, are numerous stopping points for views of rocks. Big rocks, with some jagged edges and a few holes in. These are very popular and include the iconic Twelve Apostles which are a bit bigger, sandier and more prevalent than the steps of Bedruthan.
They have featured on countless, usually sunnier, images of Australia and consequently are a mecca for big white coaches at 3 in the afternoon. In fact, I daresay there were more people on these coaches in one afternoon than there are ‘boatpeople’ arrivals into Australia in one year. Stop the coaches!
Other popular coach stops include The Grotto, Loch Ard Gorge, London Bridge, and the inventively named Arch. They are indeed quite stunning, the sounds and sights capturing the relentless power of the ocean from lookout to viewpoint.
Thankfully they have ample parking, even for the ‘Tours with a Difference’ coach, which clearly doesn’t do much that is different in way of stops. Perhaps they all stand up at the front to do karaoke on it between stops?
My own little Hoon Commodore propelled tour had its unique parts. In fact I feel I can safely assume that no-one else along this strip of road had with them a little stop incorporating a few squares of British Dairy Milk Caramel. Purchased from WHSmith at Heathrow for one whole pound. Far superior to what passes for Australian Cadburys. Perfect fodder for the stop at London Bridge.
That wasn’t the only chocolate stop, but before that immense ordeal the end of day gloom was about to disappear. Out on the far horizon a sliver of clear sky allowed the last fiery red embers of the sun to penetrate the gloom and mark a dramatic end to a dramatic day. Of course, there were plenty of people to capture the drama, a cast of hundreds, including some who made it at the very last minute and those who glumly missed out altogether (now, that’s a tour with a difference).
With darkness and quite a chill descending, it was time to anchor up for the night, in the small town of Port Campbell. A place that looked pretty deserted and kind of leaning towards banjo strumming and tumbleweed. But looks can be pretty deceptive, and an unassuming, ‘Mediterasian’ inspired restaurant provided a warming and welcoming contrast to the chill outside. The VB battered fish and chips were pleasant enough, but the piece de resistance was the dessert. Simply vanilla ice cream, nuts and chocolate, but chocolate in two ways – the first an intricate mesh of hard dark chocolate rising out of the ice cream, the second a pool of rich, syrupy chocolate sauce quite akin to the old school chocolate sauce Mum used to make in my childhood. It was a chocolate sauce that seemed to never end, getting better with each mouthful, delighting when an unexpected roasted almond or macademia cropped up within its gooey mass. It is making me hungry right now, but at the time I think I was close to exploding!
Sunday morning emerged and I felt a sense of achievement at having survived the night without being sick! It was a murky old day with bits and pieces of drizzle, but at this hour and with this weather a revisit to the
Twelve Apostles was this time shared with just a handful of others and hence a wee bit more satisfying. Conjuring up some courage to tackle a light breakfast it was then all about the drive back to Melbourne airport, stopping to get more bits of fresh air and, some hours later at Lorne, a great chicken roll.
Time on this road seems to pass amazingly quickly and, before you know it, you are pushing to make the airport in time to escape. As the rain hardened and the coast faded away in the background, escape seemed to be the best option. I don’t think I did anything too illegal in the push to make Melbourne Airport, certainly nothing deserving ‘the finger’. Effective petrol station fill and tidy up strategies and a little bit of traffic light luck and daring got me dropping my bag at the Qantas counter with a few minutes to spare. I was already told off on my flight down for being a little late, so didn’t want to be marked down as a trouble maker and excluded from any possible future upgrades (please Qantas, on my next flight to the UK – look at all this advertising you are getting!).
And so, in a somewhat frentic and shambolic end, the weekend was over, the sick feeling of too much chocolate replaced by the sick feeling of having to go back to work. Once again, the road and the ocean were great to see, providing a dosage plentiful enough to keep me going in country Victoria. Though for all the scenery and sights and drama, I think I will always remember that dessert on Saturday 17th July 2010 in Port Campbell the most. It nearly finished me off but I conquered it like a true champion. Now though I think I should really get back into those running shoes.
To be honest though, as pleasant as the countryside can be, it is just a tad boring.
It lacks that pure loveliness that is Devon countryside, probably the best countryside in the world. Thankfully we know that Australia excels when it comes to coast though, and just a short dribble out of the paddocks leads to that icon of Australian road trips, the so good it’s Great Ocean Road.One of the great things about the ocean road is the diversity along its route. There is the Surf Coast, which I think is named after the number of like dude shops in Torquay. Yes, that’s right, Torquay. Which is pretty much the start of the road closest to Melbourne. The other end, near Peterborough (yes, that’s right...), is called the Shipwreck Coast,
mostly because all the flashes from millions of coach tour cameras distract unscrupulous sailors, causing them to crash into the jagged sandstone rocks. There is a middle bit to the road too, called the Not Really Coast Coast, meandering as it does in nauseous curves through rainforest and farmland.
Clearly though, the best part is the Neil Absolutely Loves Driving Along This Bit Coast, also known as the 50 kilometre ribbon clinging to the edge of Australia between the laid back towns of Lorne and Apollo Bay. Stunningly, this was the scene for the best weather of the trip, beautiful blues of a Saturday morning demanding numerous photo stops and bits of fresh air.
The scenery is so distracting that you need to be reminded that you should be driving on the left in Australia. I think that’s provided for our wrong-sided driving foreign friends, but it’s also there as a call to be brave: take that left part of the road around that narrow corner as you drive
westward, sticking as close to the two hundred metre drop down into the ocean as you can. If you get chance, have a look down and spot the sharks waiting! Anyway, as I proved, it’s easier to drive on the right than you imagine it might be!The reward for the brave driver who makes it to Apollo Bay (and let’s face it, most people do make it), is some lunch in rather nice winter warmth and a chance to amble along the beach and harbour. Soak it all up before those white fluffy clouds grow up and the coast transforms from the sunny surf ridin chillaxville to Van Diemen’s ShipWreckLand and Aquapark...
So this is the part where the Great Ocean Road becomes less great and drastically less oceanic. Basically, a big lump of hill and bush and rock and tangly rainforest gets in the way, and the road makes its way in a circuituous fashion through some of this bush and tangly rainforest. Starting out as a pleasant contrast this landscape gradually gives way to something more barren and bleak and even boring, so much so that when the coast comes back into view again it’s a bit like that childhood trip out to the beach and the excitement of the first sighting of the sea. And what a sighting, as now we are without doubt in a land of shipwrecks and day trips.
Within a short stretch of this coastline, clustered aroudn Port Campbell, are numerous stopping points for views of rocks. Big rocks, with some jagged edges and a few holes in. These are very popular and include the iconic Twelve Apostles which are a bit bigger, sandier and more prevalent than the steps of Bedruthan.
They have featured on countless, usually sunnier, images of Australia and consequently are a mecca for big white coaches at 3 in the afternoon. In fact, I daresay there were more people on these coaches in one afternoon than there are ‘boatpeople’ arrivals into Australia in one year. Stop the coaches!
Other popular coach stops include The Grotto, Loch Ard Gorge, London Bridge, and the inventively named Arch. They are indeed quite stunning, the sounds and sights capturing the relentless power of the ocean from lookout to viewpoint.
Thankfully they have ample parking, even for the ‘Tours with a Difference’ coach, which clearly doesn’t do much that is different in way of stops. Perhaps they all stand up at the front to do karaoke on it between stops?My own little Hoon Commodore propelled tour had its unique parts. In fact I feel I can safely assume that no-one else along this strip of road had with them a little stop incorporating a few squares of British Dairy Milk Caramel. Purchased from WHSmith at Heathrow for one whole pound. Far superior to what passes for Australian Cadburys. Perfect fodder for the stop at London Bridge.
That wasn’t the only chocolate stop, but before that immense ordeal the end of day gloom was about to disappear. Out on the far horizon a sliver of clear sky allowed the last fiery red embers of the sun to penetrate the gloom and mark a dramatic end to a dramatic day. Of course, there were plenty of people to capture the drama, a cast of hundreds, including some who made it at the very last minute and those who glumly missed out altogether (now, that’s a tour with a difference).
With darkness and quite a chill descending, it was time to anchor up for the night, in the small town of Port Campbell. A place that looked pretty deserted and kind of leaning towards banjo strumming and tumbleweed. But looks can be pretty deceptive, and an unassuming, ‘Mediterasian’ inspired restaurant provided a warming and welcoming contrast to the chill outside. The VB battered fish and chips were pleasant enough, but the piece de resistance was the dessert. Simply vanilla ice cream, nuts and chocolate, but chocolate in two ways – the first an intricate mesh of hard dark chocolate rising out of the ice cream, the second a pool of rich, syrupy chocolate sauce quite akin to the old school chocolate sauce Mum used to make in my childhood. It was a chocolate sauce that seemed to never end, getting better with each mouthful, delighting when an unexpected roasted almond or macademia cropped up within its gooey mass. It is making me hungry right now, but at the time I think I was close to exploding!
Sunday morning emerged and I felt a sense of achievement at having survived the night without being sick! It was a murky old day with bits and pieces of drizzle, but at this hour and with this weather a revisit to the
Twelve Apostles was this time shared with just a handful of others and hence a wee bit more satisfying. Conjuring up some courage to tackle a light breakfast it was then all about the drive back to Melbourne airport, stopping to get more bits of fresh air and, some hours later at Lorne, a great chicken roll.Time on this road seems to pass amazingly quickly and, before you know it, you are pushing to make the airport in time to escape. As the rain hardened and the coast faded away in the background, escape seemed to be the best option. I don’t think I did anything too illegal in the push to make Melbourne Airport, certainly nothing deserving ‘the finger’. Effective petrol station fill and tidy up strategies and a little bit of traffic light luck and daring got me dropping my bag at the Qantas counter with a few minutes to spare. I was already told off on my flight down for being a little late, so didn’t want to be marked down as a trouble maker and excluded from any possible future upgrades (please Qantas, on my next flight to the UK – look at all this advertising you are getting!).
And so, in a somewhat frentic and shambolic end, the weekend was over, the sick feeling of too much chocolate replaced by the sick feeling of having to go back to work. Once again, the road and the ocean were great to see, providing a dosage plentiful enough to keep me going in country Victoria. Though for all the scenery and sights and drama, I think I will always remember that dessert on Saturday 17th July 2010 in Port Campbell the most. It nearly finished me off but I conquered it like a true champion. Now though I think I should really get back into those running shoes.
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