In Full Swing
Having lugged two whole sets of golf clubs all the way from home, it was about time we teed up a game. Ross had even packed his golf shoes so it would have been a crime not to get out on the course. The girls weren’t as keen to play so they stayed home while Ross, Sam, Tobes and I set off, golf clubs in tow, for the course at the end of the street. The sun was shining but there was a bit of a chill in the air. The (albeit unorthodox) zig-zag technique that I employed up the fairway meant I got lots of walking in, so I was warmed up in no time. The boys were putting on an impressive display and Sam was driving like a champion. Tobes had a few run-ins with the wooded foliage (honestly, why do they put so many trees in the way?) and decided it was fun while it lasted but after a few holes he’d probably had enough. He likes his golf in small doses.
Ross is a born sporting coach (a good one too) but showed enormous restraint and must be commended for his ability to hold his tongue today, refraining from coaching me on the golf course. Apart from a sly “have you thought about keeping both feet on the ground when you hit the ball?” and another quick but helpful tip about where I was aiming, he left me wholly to my own devices - grip askew, no follow-through, ridiculous stance… It was quite nice.
Toby and Ross grabbed their skateboards after golf and were enjoying the smooth roads and undulating landscape around Apollo Bay, not to mention the lack of cars. We are not sure if it’s the time of year or due to Covid or if Apollo Bay is just always this sleepy and tranquil, but there’s just no-one around. If you are looking for a quiet place to holiday, this is it! The locals are helpful and welcoming but pretty thin on the ground. The friendly chap that made our takeaway coffees this morning also served us dinner at the pub tonight. You get the feeling t’s the kind of place where everyone would know everyone.
There was one hill that Tobes was having the most fun skating on and Sam suggested he might be able to send his drone up to catch him in action, cruising around the almost empty streets. Urging us to come and watch, we all crammed in the car to head to the secret spot, only to find that it was a few hundred metres up the road and about a one minute walk from our house, if you dawdled.
Parts of the Great Ocean Road (or GOR as lots of the locals refer to it) run through the picturesque Otway National Park. We had read about “Australia’s most significant lighthouse”, built in 1848 on the edge of Cape Otway, preventing countless shipwrecks and tucked away deep in the national park - mainland Australia’s oldest surviving lighthouse. Surely we had to see that? Google told us it was closed but ‘how do you close a lighthouse?’ we wondered. Google had steered us down the garden path more than once on this holiday, fooling us into thinking things were closed that were very much open so we forged ahead with our plan to visit the Cape.
It took about half an hour drive the 33kms to the lighthouse, through the dense forest of eucalypts, their straight trunks soaring high above the road. This was koala country too, with the Apollo Bay township home to “town koalas”. Apparently it’s not unusual to see these iconic Australian marsupials sauntering casually around the streets. Signs warn tourists to watch out for the cute, furry guys who are used to people, generally keep to themselves and are pretty friendly, unless of course you try to take a flash photo of them. Their aversion to the paparazzi is intense and their claws come out if you try to grab a cheeky snap. We haven’t spotted any town k-bears yet but our eyes are peeled.
Having said that, our best chances of seeing koalas was in the Otway National Park. We’ve also been told by our clever friend Suz, to look out for rare carnivorous snails, also native to this area (that I’m not totaly convinced I want to find). The curvy roadway to the Cape was pretty - the vegetation changing as we neared the coast. At one stage we came upon an eerie forest of dead trees. Molly said it reminded her of the Elephant Graveyard from The Lion King. It was so weird to see so many dead trees still standing around together on both sides of the road, their spindly branches, sapped of colour, stretching up to the heavens.
The windy roads should have seen our new hula girl Lorna dancing up a storm on the dashboard but she seemed a little subdued, her gyrations understated. Ross has shown nothing but contempt for Lorna since we bought her, insisting she’s a dud and that we should get our money back. We are hoping she’ll warm up soon and throw off her inhibitions.
Arriving at Cape Otway Lightstation, we were confronted with a large gate that was very much in the closed position. A few other cars had pulled up with us and we all realised together that perhaps Google had been right this time. The lighthouse was off limits. The strange thing was, we couldn’t see it sticking up anywhere. We saw a walking path off to one side with a sign that read: ‘Go Back. Lighthouse entrance behind you’. Hmmm. The only way we were getting in that entrance was with bolt cutters.
We decided to take the path in the hope that we might still get a glimpse of this significant piece of Australian history. Eventually the sandy track led us to a break in the foliage and we could see the lighthouse, waaaay off in the distance. It looked tiny from there! Without binoculars or a telescope, we could easily have missed it. A young couple that was walking behind us had to laugh. “Seriously, that’s it? We walked all this way for that?”
Thankfully the zoom lens came in handy and - careful not to dazzle any koalas -we were able to get a photo to prove we’d actually been there.
Back at the carpark, we noticed there was movement behind the gate and the uniformed lighthouse keeper was milling around back there. I asked him if we could expect to be allowed in today and his answer was a resounding no. The lighthouse had been closed due to Covid for months and was set to re-open this weekend. Missed it by that much. He did suggest we walk another track with lighthouse ‘glimpses’ but warned, if we came to the wooden steps we’d gone too far. This path was a bit more populated and we noticed two distinct groups of hikers. On the one hand you had the serious walkers - hiking boots laced high, protective shin guards, loaded up with backpacks, swags, hats, camel pack tubes in their mouths - and then you had the casual thong-wearing shorts and t-shirt brigade. I think we came somewhere in the middle.
Molly and Sam read, on the Depths of Wikipedia Facebook page (check it out if you haven’t already) about the “desire path” - a well-trodden path off-the-beaten-track that leads to a point of interest. Ross, whose work as an environmental planner meant he had known about desire paths for years, concurred that Wikipedia was right. All along this track we were on, desire paths flared off into the bush. Molly made it our mission to check where they all led, which, though a bit hair-raising, was well worth it. Leading to the sheer cliff edge (not a barrier or even a warning sign in sight) the off-the-beaten-track-paths gave us uninterrupted views of the rocky Cape and the crystal clear waters below. It was incredible. We could even see the lighthouse and the light keeper’s cottage off in the distance. Grateful that my cries to “be careful, don’t get too close to the edge, stand back” etc were heeded, and no-one toppled off the edge and plummeted to the depths of the ocean, we made our way back to Apollo Bay, sadly without seeing any koalas or carnivorous snails. Maybe next time.
Tobes, who had taken some time out while we were adventuring in the Cape, joined Molly and Sam, armed with his drone, to explore nearby Marengo Beach. Initially going to surf, the water was still too cold without wetsuits so they had a quick swim instead. There are two large, rocky island platforms just off the beach at Marengo. Known as Marengo Reef Marine Sanctuary, the islands are a bit too far to swim to but would be fun to visit by kayak. Sam sent up his drone and was amazed to discover the far rocky platform was home to a thriving fur seal colony; hundreds of light brown seals congregating to sun themselves on the rocks. There were so many! How awesome.
We lunched today at the Apollo Bay pub, where between mouthfuls, Maisy showed her approval of the background music by singing every word of every song. When trying to find a place for dinner, lots of local restaurants were either closed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays or were a little out of our price range so we had to double-up and enjoy pub fare one more time, this time at the Great Ocean Road Brewhouse - the southern most pub on the Australian mainland. After our tasty meal, we chased the sunset down to the Bay, walking along the breakwall, drinking in the pink skies and the beauty of the surrounding hills.
