The End Of The (Great Ocean) Road
Toby was heading home today. He had a 21st of a close friend that he had to go to and a weekend away planned with some friends in Queensland, the latter necessitating a Covid test within a certain timeframe. The plan was for Ross to drive him to Warnabool early this morning, where Tobes would get a Covid test and then catch a train to Geelong and then a flight to Sydney. The plan went without a hitch until, when they arrived at the advertised Covid testing centre, it no longer existed. Neither did the next one. After a round-about of trying different medical centres and a hospital, he was eventually able to get his test and board his train. It will be a long day for poor Tobes.
When we checked in at Port Campbell yesterday, the lady at reception had said the check-out time was at 10am and then added the throw away line, “but we’re pretty flexible”. Give us an inch and we’ll take a mile. By 11am, I think Molly was still in her pyjamas.
Speaking of Molly, she was our designated driver today and had a tight turn into a very narrow passageway out of our driveway this morning, with the loaded trailer in tow. There was a general rumbling amongst family members as to whether she could pull it off, many doubting her credentials, some offering to take the wheel themselves. The odds weren’t in her favour but…in what can only be described as a masterful display of precision driving, she came through with flying colours and navigated the passageway like a pro. Go Molly.
Eventually we left Port Cambpell, bound for Warrnambool - Rossco’s second trip there for the day. The most exciting thing Ross had seen on his early morning jaunt was a couple of escaped cows, standing sheepishly (can a sheep be cowish?) on the footpath, about to cross the road, and a camel farm - not something you see every day.
With a quick tour around Port Campbell before we left, we drove up to the headland for exquisite views of the beach. Big healthy Norfolk Pines stand guard along the sand. Waves break way out from the shore on the point, so the surfers were jumping off the rocks for a long paddle out to the break. They were getting some excellent waves with long rides and it was fun to watch. A jetty near the jump-off point seems to be where the waves peter out, rolling into the beach a mere shadow of the powerful waves that started out on the point. This makes it a great beach for kids - the best of both worlds. Still a chilly 14 degrees in the water, most of the surfers were wearing hoods, booties, thick steamers. Apparently the water temperature down here doesn’t fluctuate much all year. I guess you’d get used to it.
Ross had a work call while we were up on the headland and his colleague must have asked him where he was. Pure panic was written on his face as he struggled to remember where on earth he was. “Umm, I’m not sure; where am I? Hahaha. Reminiscent of the old Leyland Brothers…where are we Mike?
The main street of this cute little seaside town, consisting of a couple of cafes, a fish and chip shop (with the toddler-nightmare-inducing name: Frying Nemo), a surf shop, a pub, a post office, a general store and not much more. If you blink you miss it. We still had some sightseeing spots along the coast to check out and Sam was directing us to various lookouts as we ventured along the last section of the Great Ocean Road.
The Great Ocean Road, known as one of the world's most scenic coastal drives, famous for the magical 12 Apostles, iconic surf breaks, waterfalls and acres of national park. What it also should be renowned for is the sheer number of bugs that populate its vicinity. Don’t visit without your Aeroguard. The air at the ‘London Bridge’ lookout was particularly thick with insects large and small today. Opening your mouth wide to marvel at the view is not recommended, unless of course, you’re OK with a mouthful of bugs. In a momentary lapse of concentration today, I actually did ingest one such creepy crawly. No amount of coughing was going to dislodge that little critter. It was down the hatch in a flash. Ew.
"‘The Arch’ and ‘London Bridge’, which had seemed small as we’d gazed down at them from the heights of the helicopter yesterday, were anything but small from the ground. The soft limestone cops a constant barrage of waves and weather, eroding it gradually and meaning bits of rock fall off into the sea all the time. London Bridge, an imposing stand alone archway that sits right off the coast, was apparently connected to the mainland until 1990, when the connecting piece spontaneously crumbled away into the ocean. I wonder if the two tourists that were left stranded on this newly formed island had noticed all the signs warning of “unstable cliffs”. They’re not kidding. They say it’s only a matter of time before the arch collapses in on itself, struggling to carry the weight of its own top. London Bridge is falling down indeed. If we visit again - in even ten years’ time - the landscape will have changed dramatically I’m sure.
Other spectacular spots we stopped at today were the Bay of Islands, the Bay of Martyrs and the Grotto - part-blowhole, part-archway, part-cave. Upper lookouts and viewing platforms offer stunning panoramas of the coastline but the Grotto is accessed by descending some stairs delivering you down to its serene rock pools and smooth boulders, allowing you to soak in the sea-spray for the full experience. Aside from the bugs, we had the place to ourselves - the only car in the whole carpark.
It was hot today and the map alerted us of a severe wind warning all the way to Warnambool (possibly caused by the collective wing-flapping action of all those bugs). The scenery out the car windows was mostly farmland and with all the cows safely tucked behind their fences, there really wasn’t too much to see. We were ravenous by the time we hit the town. Admittedly it was after 2pm and it was slim pickings for where to have lunch. The Whaler pub served only pizzas and we are seriously going to turn into pizzas if we eat any more of them. We turned to the only other option available, the Fishtales Cafe, with THE most extensive menu we had just about ever seen. Eight full pages of delectable offerings, originating from all corners of the globe; large, small, all-day breakfasts, you name it. You could have a pancake followed by a curry, wash it down with a souvlaki and have a sushi chaser (of course they had pizzas too). The options were limitless. The full set of 1983 World Book Encyclopaedias for us to peruse also provided endless fun and a snapshot into the past. Very educational. Even the kids conceded: “how good are encyclopaedias?!” So weird to think they’d never even seen a set.
Warrnambool is a reasonably big town, especially compared to all the places we have been visiting, but there’s not a lot going on here. It’s no thriving metropolis. Though on the beach, it doesn’t feel like a coastal town and it generally seems a bit tired and in need of a lick of paint. The beach is actually a long way from the main street and is tucked behind hills and scrub. There’s a long break wall to protect from the wilds of the Southern Ocean but as Molly would say, it’s not very “aesthetically pleasing”. You can read between the lines.
Warrnambool’s biggest claim to fame and most popular tourist destination is Flagstaff Hill, a historical, maritime village; think Old Sydney Town with a coastal theme. It looks great and had fantastic reviews on Trip Advisor. Sam, Molly, Maisy and I were keen to experience the “Spectacular Sound and Light Show” tonight but Ross wasn’t convinced it would be as spectacular as the cricket and opted out of this one. Literally across the road from where we were staying, we wandered over to pick up our tickets, as instructed, at the Box Office. The only problem was, we couldn’t find the Box Office. The only person we could find onsite was the burly tattooed cleaner, vacuuming his heart out and oblivious to our urgent taps on the window. The place was deserted. There was a poster inside advertising Friday night’s show so we all looked at each other for clarification that it was indeed Friday. Yep. It was Friday. Why there were no lights and no sounds and no spectacle to be had here tonight will remain one of life’s unsolved mysteries. Oh well.
Instead, it was a quick trip to Woolies for some supplies and a slap up dinner in the hotel room before a well-earned slumber.
