These are words from a poem by Suzanne Howard describing the treacherous area of the Great Ocean Road around the Twelve Apostles. I needed to see green. I needed to see countryside and I needed to get out of the city so I took a bus tour to the Great Ocean Road today. I have to say that it was an expensive way to see New Zealand countryside because that is what this stretch of coast reminded me of, only with flies – lots of sticky flies.
The bus picked me up at 7.30am. What? I had gotten used to being on holiday time, this is a ridiculous hour! Oh the sacrifices we must make. Our guide who I will call Fred because I can't remember his actual name, started the commentary at West Gate Bridge even before we left the city. The day started with a tale of this bridge collapsing in 1970 and ended with another London Bridge, at the other end of the line.
The section of the Great Ocean Road we traversed stretches from Torquay to Warrnambool but the whole road measures a winding 270kms and was carved by hand with the pick and shovel of 3,000 unemployed servicemen after WWI. It was thought that this would be a useful way to rehabilitate and reintroduce them to the real world. It just looks like bloody hard work to me but there was the odd perk of a shipwrecked cargo of beer to sweeten the toil. The Memorial Arch that spans the road just outside Airey's Inlet is the third erected to commemorated this engineering feat.
The first photo opportunity in this day of constructed stops, was Bell's Beach and Apollo Bay, known as the home of surfing. The tiny town of Angelsea was where the three world surf gear giants Quiksilver, Rip Curl and Billabong began. It was also the area where Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze's crew went in Point Break to catch the legendary and completely fake, 50 year storm that produced the equally as imaginary giant waves. The surf along this coast is certainly impressive. It was a glorious and relatively calm day here but still I could see the cockatoo's plume of spray streaming off the back of the waves. They apparently get up to eight metre swells here. I have to marvel at the originality with which the Aussies name places. Here we have the famous “House on a pole” and “Big Hill”. Direct rather than poetic.
The next stop is the Kennet Koala park to see some bear bums in the wild. I have to say that I have been often unimpressed with these little icons. They hide high up in gum trees sleeping lazily all day so all you get is neck strain viewing a distant rear end. But it was mandatory to take a photo – of the tourists taking photos.
As we continued the drive after stopping for lunch, I noticed eleven out of the seventeen on board missed the stunning scenery as their full stomachs convinced them to study the inside of their eyelids instead. One of the girls even brought her book along mistaking this expensive - er – sightseeing tour for a commute to work. What is with that?
The Otways National Park is famous for dinosaur skeletons having been found there in 1968 and it is here that we take a brief bush walk through Mountain Ash trees. These enormous beasts are often hollow at the base so in the days when convicts were being transported were put to use as temporary prison cells. The prisoners were made to carry their own makeshift cell door so they could be locked in at night.
Further around is the legendary Twelve Apostle rock formations, the Loch Ard Gorge, scene of many shipwrecks and the London Bridge where the day's sights end. The landbridge across from the coast to the outcrop collapsed in 1990 completing the day's tales of broken bridges. I enjoyed the sun, the scenery and the taste of home but I have to say that bus tours are not for me.
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