Great Ocean Road

So there were four students in my Introduction to Australian Society class (a joke, I know, but it’s actually required for Cornell) and two others who were keen to check out the Great Ocean Road for an extended weekend. RMIT offered one and two day trips along the Road, but I had heard there would be a lot of driving, so I recommended that we splurge a little and spend a couple nights there.

Andre, Christina, Agnes, Maud, Verena, Mike, and I set out on Saturday morning in a rented minivan and made our way west of Melbourne along the coast. The Road was a WWI monument that had been constructed after the war as a project for returning ANZAC (Australia and New Zealand Army Corps) soldiers, and it basically linked all these little towns together in one 260km curvy road. The sights of the coast were pretty spectacular, and six of us were just rubbernecking as we drove along, while Andre did all the driving. He had the car registered in his name, since at the ripe old age of 28 he didn’t have to pay a surcharge, but he wasn’t about to take any chances with the driving. It was nice of him, really.

This section of Australia’s coast was made mostly of limestone or sandstone, some rock that was slowly eroding away. Either the ocean had receded a bit over millions of years or the coast had been jutting up, either way there were sections of the coast that had broken apart and become isolated masses of rock sticking straight up out of the shallow ocean water. On Monday we’d be able to see the most spectacular result of all this erosion—The Twelve Apostles—but for now we were just excited to be outside of Melbourne and heading toward the surfing capital of Australia.

We jumped out of the car at the first beach we spotted, did the tourist thing taking pictures, and contemplated swimming. There was no lifeguard on duty, and one ominous yellow sign warned of currents, sharp underwater ledges, and a couple other synonyms for certain death. I decided to only wade in, remembering the ocean currents in Tasmania. Got soaked by a rogue wave and ran out, screaming like a girl.

Australia and Tasmania have so many beaches, there’s a saying that if you can see any footprints on your beach, it’s too crowded. We drove along to another beach and swam in the surf. There were other swimmers too, but I needed a buffer zone between myself and sharks. Got some great body surfing in, but the others wanted to leave after only an hour. Next beach, they said, but it was a trick to get me out of the water.

Another highlight was the Cape Otway lighthouse on Sunday. Built in 1848. Windy up there.

Finally saw some koalas too! These overblown beanie babies sleep for 19 hours a day, partly because the gum tree leaves they ingest are toxic and need to slowly be digested.

Then to Otway Forest National Park, and twenty dollars per person later we were walking up in the tree canopies. I had had visions of Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, but the trees looked to different to even pretend to swordfight. Nice atmosphere though. The Kiwi and I imagined we were in Mirkwood, and kept watch for the girls. They didn’t appreciate these things.

Spent a couple nights at beautiful Apollo Bay and discovered that the Kiwi had kept four bottles hidden in his bag as a surprise for the rest of us. This made up for his being terminally late.

On Monday we checked out the Twelve Apostles at Port Campbell, which are stunningly beautiful in person. From what I’ve heard about the Grand Canyon, I imagine the Apostles must be similar in the sense that no postcard can adequately capture their majesty. You don’t really get a sense of size in these pictures.

At 9:19am on July 3^rd 2005, one of the Apostles collapsed under its own weight. It wasn’t particularly windy or wavy that morning. 60 million years of erosion is enough.

Then on to Loch Ard Gorge, where I think we saw the London Bridge. Part of it fell off in 1990, so only the “supports” are left. They’ll look like the Apostles some day.

…and the weekend was over before we knew it. We had some great times, helped by the fact that we were all pretty low key. If the weather had been better on Sunday and Monday we might have gone surfing (only $36USD for board, wetsuit, and instruction!!!!), but sadly I was outvoted. No matter, I went surfing with RMIT this past Saturday. No pictures of that, but I swear I stood up at least five times. Getting there.