A false start: The Great Otway National Park I

It was just after Christmas and we had spent some time with Mia’s family in Smythesdale. Mia’s parents were kind enough to offer us one of their cars to do some holidaying during the new year period; working at the University of Melbourne means that you have holidays from midday on Christmas eve up to and including new year’s day, which in 2015 fell on a Thursday, so for the price of one day of annual leave we could have eight days of adventuring. Initially we had thought of going inland, to Mildura and on to Ikara-Flinders Ranges, but Mia’s parents were less keen on us putting their car though that, so we settled on somewhere a little closer: the southwest coast of Victoria. We had visited the great ocean road in 2011 on a whirlwind day trip to the 12 apostles and we had visited the extreme southwest of the state on a similar New Year’s trip during the 2011-2012, but given how spectacular the region is, we were keen to spend more time in the region. Foolishly, we did not make any bookings for campsites, as we assumed that for tent only sites there would always be space. This was in combination of Parks Victoria having implemented an online booking system for camping during our time living in Europe, so we really were ignorant. Our vague plan was to spend some time doing hiking in the Great Otway National Park, follow the coast up to the Port Campbell National Park and ultimately to the Lower Glenelg National Park before returning to Smythesdale via the Grampians National Park.

In a great contradiction, driving during the holiday period is remarkably relaxed with few people on the road; however there are people absolutely everywhere. Our first stop was to be a saunter down to Erskine falls, hidden away behind the dapper coastal town of Lorne. What we had not counted on was the large music festival (the falls festival) which takes place nearby to the falls, which was busily setting up and campers were already arriving. Consequently, we were stuck in a long queue of cars, everyone having there camping credentials verified, and when it was finally our turn and we mentioned that we were just passing through they effectively did not believe us, but let us pass anyway. Arriving at the car park for the falls should have tipped us off for what this holiday was going to be about, but it was rammed. We found a kind-of-spot and made our way to the falls. Being the middle of summer, the falls were little more than a dribble, but being in amongst the forest was pleasant. It was an absolute circus in terms of large groups and families of tourists making a hash of following a path and also respecting the rules of a national park, but there is little one can do in these kind of situations other than go with the flow. We did not stay long as we wanted to get our campsite locked in and relax. We had planned on setting up base at Sharps camping area, a bare-bones campsite with only a handful of spots. We chose Sharps as it is the best-placed ground for hiking, and as it doesn’t have facilities we figured that it would be empty. Upon arrival, it was clear that fitting in here was going to be a serious challenge - especially as one was required to book via phone, and we did not have any mobile reception. We hung around for a while and as more people started to arrive, all of whom had bookings, it was clear that we were not staying there. The Backup plan was activated, which involved a trip to the Allenvale mill site, a walk-in campsite a few kilometres away. Once again, our thinking was the walk-in factor would deter people; however, once again we were proven incorrect, with a completely stacked campsite, but in a much worse state: lots of large groups camping, stereos pumping and copious amounts of booze. It was clear that we weren’t going to be staying there either. We drove into Lorne to get some mobile phone coverage and called around to a few local campgrounds to see if there was space, and invariably the answer was no. We were in a bit of a pickle.

In an unsatisfying turn of events, the only available camping was at the Lake Colac caravan park (distinct from the Colac Otway caravan park), an hour to the north and from whence we had come. As we wanted to settle in for the evening, we just sucked it up and drove there and set up at the caravan park. It was near-empty, which was surprising given how lovely it was: situated on the board of the lake and borders the lake Colac bird reserve. Additional to the excellent location, the grass was impossibly green and the ground delightfully soft, which is always welcome when camping. The night was young and the day long, so we able to fit in a walk on the lake and though the bird reserve, which were joyous given the mix of weather, light and wildlife.

The Great Otway National Park II

The next morning saw us on a mission to the Colac information centre to enquire about camping in the area, hoping to extract some local nuggets of gold as, at this point, our holiday plans were looking a little shaky. The staff were both friendly and helpful, directing us to Beauchamp falls campsite, which rather than being run by Parks Victoria is run by the Department of Environment, Land, Water and Planning. The result of this is campsites cannot be booked, it runs on a first in best dressed policy in addition to not having hard limits on the number of people and sites. The advice was also to head straight over, as anyone that was leaving was likely to leave in the morning, so if there were any spaces we would hopefully secure one. This turned out to be an excellent decision, as upon our arrival there were quite a few vacant spots and the number was increasing by the minute. There were certainly plenty of people that were set up for the long haul, but obviously enough people not wanting to stay in the same place. We set up the tent in a pretty nice spot, although within one minute of starting to set up, a leech had already started feeding on me. This stirred up some concern, as I didn't particularity want to be camping in a leech infested area; however this was the only one I encountered for the whole trip, so it was definitely the odd one out!

With a spot to sleep, my stress levels decreased dramatically and I could start to relax. The location was not ideal for what we had planned on doing, but it was not terrible either, it just meant that we would do a little more driving. Stop number one was the Little Aire Walk, a beautiful walk through the rain forest with the end goal of reaching Little Aire falls. The walk was largely flat and the path winds through many gullies filled with towering mountain ash. During our walk we came across a particularly brazen echidna, to whom our presence was no concern at all and consequently, we just stood around and watched it trundling along the path and hunting for ants in the shrubbery. After an hour or so we arrived at the lookout for the falls, which are impressive but must be viewed from afar.

Returning from whence we came, we embarked on a second walk, the much better known Triplet Falls Walk which is much shorter but with slightly gnarlier terrain. As tends to be the case in the Great Otway National Park, most walks wend through the forest and usually pass by a waterfall or two, and this one was no different. The waterfall on the walk, Triplet falls, is one of the more well-known cascades. As a consequence, it usually has water year round and is quite impressive, but the erosion around the path from people going off track for whatever reason is particularly noticeable, which is always sad.

Our next stop was yet another waterfall, Hopetoun falls, although this one did not have much of a walk, moreso a set of stairs. The roads that traverse the Otways are generally pretty quality, but there is intensity added to the driving due to the large number of very large logging trucks also using the roads - indeed, they are the reason that most of the roads exist. It was on the drive along Aire Valley road, perhaps it was the time or location, but the density of trucks was high and I remember being super on edge driving on these small, windy tree-lined roads with logging trucks hammering by. We also happened to see a few snakes out on the road - a poor idea but testament to the sunny weather we were enjoying. Down by the waterfall, it was near magical: Hopetoun falls is one of, if not the most well-known waterfalls in the area, especially when it comes to taking photos of waterfalls. I say near magical as the water level was quite low, meaning the fall was little more than a set of trickles, and not even long-exposure photos could add volume. Regardless, it was but spot to sit and try to spot wildlife - although we were not very successful!

Down the road we found our last stop for the day, the California Redwoods. In 1939, a range of redwood saplings (and other large trees) were planted as it was envisaged that the region's thriving timber industry, based on the near-perfect growing conditions for temperate rainforest trees, could be used to grow other timbers. Ultimately, the bottom feel out of this idea - and the industry to an extent - and the plantations were largely forgotten about. Insert 75 years and now you have a patch of rather large redwoods in amongst the beech and mountain ash trees. Whilst redwoods are known for being big trees, depending on whom you believe, mountain ash are (or can be) larger. In any case, they are both pretty big, but the primary (aesthetic) difference in the trees is the girth of the redwoods, which is substantially larger. Moreover, as they were planted as for harvest, they are in ordered arrays, which makes walking amongst them a different, albeit satisfying experience. As the day was getting on, the sun was dropping lower and enhancing the experience, and especially in the region around the creek, everything felt deliciously ancient.

Returning to camp, it had absolutely packed out; the space that was plentiful had been engulfed in its entirety. This extended to the car park, where people had taken up all possible space but in the least efficient manner. This was annoying as the forest really comes up to the road, so if you are not parked in a designated spot, you are almost certainly blocking the road. The worst offenders were a group of people with large 4WD utes, most of which had P plates. In hopes of shattering my vision of how the conversation between us would go based on the stereotype of people that drive 4WD utes, I psyched myself up to go and have a chat and see if they could make some room for our car, but also the few other cars trying to find a place to settle. The result was out car being parked some hundreds of metres down the road in a small ditch and a more firmly cemented version of the archetypal driver of a 4WD ute.

The Great Otway National Park III

The next morning I was up early to catch the sunrise at the nearby Beauchamp Falls. Catching the sunrise from a creek with a waterfall may seem like a odd thing to do - light will not make it into the canyon unless it is coming from directly above - but it was more about avoiding people. Everyone at the campsite seemed to be heading down after dinner to enjoy the falls in the evening, so I figured that it would be best in the early morning. This was a good choice as during my hour or so of faffing about taking photos, only two other people appeared, and they only stayed for a few minutes. Unfortunately there has not been any substantial rain in quite some time, so the falls were looking a little thin, but the environs were simply spectacular.

We were pretty slow to get moving in the morning, partly as we didn't have all that much to do, but also as we knew that the weather was going to be coming in. Rain in the rainforest is not only to be expected, but also enjoyed, as the place seems to come alive. Larger animals hide away and this creates an opportunity for all manner of smaller life to get out and explore. Our mission for the day was just to explore, and conveniently, when it really started to come down we had just finished to the drive along Binns road which connects to the Great Ocean road at Maits rest, where a boardwalk takes you into the forest, mostly surrounded by giant beech trees. Whilst wandering around the undergrowth is certainly the best way to feel like you are in the forest, a boardwalk is a way of doing that without the mud.

Our next stop was Shelly beach, on the southern outskirts of Apollo Bay. Now part of the much longer Great Ocean Walk, there is a small loop from a parking point down to Elliot River, then east along the beach and then walking back through the forest. As the weather had cleared, we were game to take advantage of the sun whilst it was out, as we knew that it was going to be short-lived. The track down to the river is a bit rough, descending steeply; however it is short. The beach itself is gorgeous, and even better we had it to ourselves. As the same suggests, it is composed of shells: small and largely unbroken, along with large slabs of basalt and other types igneous rock, pointing the the region's volcanic past. We passed much time exploring the rock pools and clambering over the rocky outcrops, perhaps more than we otherwise would have, given the tide was coming in with a little more gusto than we had anticipated. At one point it was unclear if we were going to have to get a little wet if we wanted to complete the circuit; however with some ninja skills we were able to make it around, and it was a good thing we did given the bounty of blackberries lining the forest path. It is always heartbreaking to see an infestation of blackberries anywhere in Australia, but just because I despise them does not mean I will not enjoy their fruit. I suppose that it is better that people eat and pass the seeds, which will be rendered useless during the sewerage treatment process, rather than a bird spread them throughout the surrounding area.

Back at the car, we were enjoying the company of some local koalas, of which there are many in the region. Indeed, there are too many and the population is being managed. In any case, it is still a treat to see active koalas, especially when they are with an adorable joey. Afterwards we headed into nearby Apollo Bay with the explicit intention of getting afternoon tea and that meant the Apollo Bay Bakery, but I was ultimately disappointed as they do not make milkshakes, and quite frankly, what is the point of going to a bakery that does not make thickshakes, but at the very least milkshakes?

Our final mission for the day was to get out to Sabine Falls, which was a slightly longer walk. The area is less-well known; however, this was not always been the case and there is speculation by conservation groups that this is part of a broader scheme to reopen the Smythe Creek area for logging. In any case, the walk is open and takes you to the tallest of the waterfalls in the Great Otway National Park, tumbling some 130 metres. The weather was holding, but with showers on and off, making for some atmospheric walking conditions. The track has some slippery sections and once again, the waterfalls must be viewed from afar, although this time, it is from much further afar. Still, this does provide a perspective on how tall the falls actually are!

The way back to camp was simply fantastic. I am not one for scenic drives, to me that is an oxymoron. Driving provides a convenient way to get to where you want to go so you can enjoy it, the scenery of the car is nothing special. Even still, the drive back to Beech Forest was something else: intense terrain and stunning forest. It was also very difficult driving. Back at camp, we cooked up some dinner, enjoyed a beer and in the twilight, strolled down to have a look at Beauchamp Falls which had swelled somewhat with the day's rain. I could not fault our location or the price we were paying for it (nothing!) but I was looking forward to moving on - when I think of camping, I think of seclusion, and we had none of that.

The Great Otway National Park IV

One of the worst things about camping is packing up. This is only exacerbated by bad weather, so the morning saw a pretty rough and ready job to get everything in the car and get out of camp. We had plenty booked in for the day, and were happy when we could secure a campsite at Apostles Camping Park in Princetown, a hamlet nestled behind the coastline of the Port Campbell National Park. Given the date and location, we were surprised by the availability, but were happy to take it up. There is only 50 kilometres between the Beauchamp falls campsite and Princetown; however we would manage a little more than that.

Our first stop was the Otway fly, a well-known tourist attraction where a treetop walk has been constructed in the canopy of the rainforest. I had always (and still) marvel at the size of mountain ash and have never climbed (a big) one, so this seemed like a good opportunity. The price of admission is a bit steep, coming in at $25 per person (and in an accounting error not noticed until long after the fact, we were charged twice, meaning we paid $50 per person) which coupled with a opening time of 1000 did not have my super enthusiastic, but we committed. The experience was good, albeit contrived. The nice secluded spots along the path next to the creek are entirely artificial, but are still nice secluded spots. The elevated walkway is high enough to make you feel alive - indeed, it is apparently the highest canopy walk in the world - but this is especially true when out on the cantilever lookout; I could not get over how much said cantilever was oscillating. It takes me back to the first independent physics research project I ever did, conducted in my final year of senior school and entitled "The period of an oscillating cantilever beam", which given my professional trajectory may have been somewhat of a starting point. Even with knowledge that such structures are safe to oscillate, it is still makes me feel very alive. Another major feature of our visit was the heavy rain, which was somewhat unremarkable save for the fact that it stopped raining and about 15 minutes after this, we were able to spot a few Otway black snails, a carnivorous gastropod endemic to the area. The conditions seemed to be conducive for them coming out, as we had been on the lookout for them the entire time we had been in the Otways, and were able to spot a bunch in only a few minutes.

Once we had left the park, our next mission was a bit of morning tea. As always, there is a hankering for a good milkshake. If I have my way, it will be vanilla, but if there is something a little more exotic - for example, Lamington - we might give that a go. In a twist on fate/convenience, we needed to get some fuel and the nearby Yatzies just happened to sell both fuel and milkshakes, although both at a pretty serious premium. Adding insult to injury, the milkshake was poor - far too milky.

In what would result in a fair bit of backtracking, the next point of interest was Cape Otway itself. Home to Victoria's oldest lighthouse and one of the most remote locations in the colony during the early years of European onslaught, it is a fascinating place. The road to the lighthouse is a little over 10 kilometres from the Great Ocean Road, and it is a very ghostly place, due in most part to the scores of dead manna gum trees which have been destroyed by the flourishing koala population. Indeed, it did not take long before we came across some of the marsupials, with each one causing a minor-to-major traffic jam with tourists pulling over to take photos. Given the sheer number of koalas, it is funny to note how this behaviour dies off along the length of the road as people begin to realise that they are absolutely everywhere.

At the end of the road, one arrives at the lightstation, which again comes with fee for entry ($18.50 per person), which again, I thought to be pricey but we sucked it up. Of note was my having a large pack (which was full of my camera gear) and the attendant asking if we were on the great ocean walk, as we had access included as part of the trip. Perhaps next time. The grounds were immaculately kept and the museum in the old telegraph station was really interesting; the telegraph to Tasmania was connected to between Cape Otway and Launceston in 1859. Other buildings showcase life at a lightstation, something to which I have always been attracted: the solitude, the isolation and the self reliance is somehow appealing, but the 1848 version of this seemed to be for only the hardest of people.

Not tided over by the milkshake, but not yet ready for lunch, we stopped in at the onsite café to some a coffee. It was during this time that Mia recounted a story from her childhood when her family was enjoying their time at the very same café and a group next to them got up and left a plate of scones and jam. It was not long before the scones were in their possession, moreover consumed when the group returned from what evidently had not been a departure, but perhaps a toilet break.Mia's family did not hang around to find out and simply legged it. I can only imagine these poor people, looking forward to their treat which evaporated into thin air. To the family: I hope you got your treat!

Our ticket included a visit to the lighthouse itself, which is always novel. By coincidence, I was reading the Southern Reach Trilogy by Jeff VanderMeer which involves a lighthouse, so it was an interesting time to be looking around - although I think one is better off looking at the lighthouse rather than from the lighthouse. But with the main event finished, it was time for lunch so we drove out of the lightstation grounds, found a picnic table and made our lunch. We were once again under the watchful eyes of some koalas, which given we were settled for some time eventually gave me a chance to get some photos.

Back on the road we drove the hour or so - the last 10 minutes of which was slightly rough due to road conditions - to The Gables and a lookout over what claim to be the tallest sea cliffs of mainland Australia, which may or may not be true, but the view is mighty impressive. Relief maps of the area suggest the hills in the area are about 150 metres tall and the steepest cliffs are about 120 metres, which is indeed gnarly. The area is exposed and was windy and the waves choppy; given the swell and the number of reefs, it is easy to understand why the coastline here is known as the shipwreck coast. Indeed, just to the west of The Gables is Wreck beach, where we were planning on going; however, the tide was completely in and the beach inaccessible. It was a shame as it is apparently one of the best beaches in the area.

The day was getting late which meant getting to the camping ground in Princetown. The grounds were nice and the place laid back and importantly, they had warm showers which, after a couple of days without them, are always very welcome. Once we were cleaned up, we made our way to the Twelve apostles for sunset. This boarders on insanity, as it is one of the busiest spots in the state - especially over the Christmas holidays - and sunset is definitely the best time to be there. But things are dialled back a bit as the busloads of tourists have long since left, meaning that there are still many people around, but it is not nearly as a harrowing experience. And given the volatile weather, we had some good light conditions for enjoying one of my favourite spots. With the sun down and the happy snaps finished, we returned to Princetown and the only pub in town, the 12 Apostles Inn to enjoy some pricey yet mediocre food along with some average beer.

Port Campbell and Cobboboonee National Parks

Despite having been at the Twelve apostles for sunset, I am a sucker for good lighting conditions and sunrise often throws up something, meaning I was up pretty pretty early to ensure that I was down there well before sunrise. I do not associate exposed coastal shrub as prime territory for kangaroos, but if they are going to be around, dusk and dawn are the time for it, and by golly were they around. I have never hit a roo whilst driving, but this drive marks the closest I have ever come. Arriving at the visitors centre and making my way down to the lookouts, I was greeted by a roo which was not quite as lucky as the one I nearly collected. It was a massive adult located at the exit to the pedestrian underpass; it appeared as though it had been killed on the road and then just pushed over the edge of the elevated road. Given I was in the same spot less than 10 hours beforehand, it was clearly pretty fresh. Certainly a sight for the tourists rolling up to experience Australia.

There was only a handful of other people around for the sunrise and they were almost exclusively other photo enthusiasts, which is usually a mixed bag. There are some with whom I immediately have a good rapport and others who have a "fuck everyone else" attitude with whom I don't get along, and there was a very keen player representing the latter catagory, to the point of moving another person's camera and tripod setup out of the way and being a general douche when confronted about it. Certainly not the behaviour I identify as being beneficial to society. But after I had enjoyed the sunrise and taken some photos, I zoomed further along the road to Loch Ard Gorge, which has always been my favourite area of Port Campbell national park, especially overlooking the Island Archway from Tom and Eva lookout; the waves in this area are seemingly permanently hideously violent - in an impressive way. In an effort to let Mia sleep in, I also visited the lookout over Thunder cave which given I had not had breakfast was probably overdoing it, as I remember being absolutely famished on the walk back to the car. Needless to say the fast was broken the second I arrived back at the campground.

The morning was an absolute pleasure: we drove from Princetown in the direction of Warrnambool. The joy comes really ramps up once you pass the Twelve apostles and to a lesser extent, Port Campbell, as this is territory in which the tours from Melbourne rarely venture. It is a shame, given the beauty of the area, but on the other hand, it means that you more-or-less have the place to yourself, save a few other people doing the same thing as you: dropping in on the countless features along the length of the Port Campbell national park coastline. Indeed, in a cruel twist of fate, the douchebag photographer and his partner were making the same stops as we were and staying for the amount of time. We stopped in at The Arch and London Bridge but by far the coolest location was the The Grotto, which I had never previously seen. It is a stunning natural window with a reflecting pool through which one can watch the waves pounding into a secluded cove. It is definitely a great candidate for a photo of the sun setting through the window; perhaps next time.

Further down the road one enters the Bay of islands coastal park, which prompted me to question the difference between a National Park and a coastal park. According to Parks Victoria, National Parks are "Areas of nationwide significance because of their outstanding natural environments, features, scenic landscapes, and diverse land types" whereas coastal parks "Protect marine and coastal environments, safeguarding marine habitats for important plants and animals and conserving natural, cultural and aesthetic values". The difference is still unclear to me, other than the obvious capitalisation of National Park and the obvious lack of capitalisation of coastal park. In any case, the obligatorily stop in this area is the lookout over Bay of martyrs: brutally rugged with countless sea stacks make it one of the finest points on the Victorian coastline - albeit every time I have visited with a pretty gnarly scent of the sea.

Some 40 minutes later, we were in Warrnambool, where our mission was to resupply (boring) and get some fish and chips (exciting). Being something that approximates a vegetarian, there is nothing that I miss eating, but good fish is something that I do very much enjoy eating and being on holiday, I usually give myself a pass to enjoy some battered fruit of the sea. The usual suspects pointed us to Warrnambool Politis Seafoods (which has since apparently closed) where we stocked up on the goods and headed up to Cannon Hill Lookout to gorge ourselves. In a cruel twist of fate, the fish and chips were not very good (which may explain the closing) but certainly served the purpose of filling us up!

After navigating the countless roundabouts we were back on the road with our sights on Cobboboonee National park. Neither of us had been nor seen nor heard of the park, which was only established at the end of 2008. The appeal of this particular park was its remoteness, and given it was new year's eve, we wanted to be as far from other people as possible. Whilst almost all campsites at all national parks booked out during the Christmas holidays, almost no campsites at Cobboboonee were booked, making it an ideal location. With a few campgrounds to choose from, we ended up booking at Jackass fern gully campground, which is roughly 90 minutes from Warrnambool. This was lengthened a bit by a stop at the bakery in Heywood, which was top tier: a great milkshake and iced apple cake. The town itself is rather amusing, as it is tiny and clearly had just had an injection of funds, with the town's one and only traffic light having just been installed along with an immaculate toilet facility.

The park is close to town, but things were slow going due to roads: they were heavily corrugated with many downed trees and branches, even requiring a little off road action. Added to this is the enclosed roads and the high abundance of wildlife, which all together made for some of the most difficult driving in a straight line I have ever done. Eventually we did make it to the campsite, which was empty save for a small group and we got to setting up. The campsite was nice - albeit rather dry - and we followed a short train which apparently lead to a swampy area, but perhaps not in mid-summer. Following the park guide, we drove over to the nearby Heathland nature walk and proceeded to do the walk; however it was somewhat overgrown and it was good snake territory, which is no major drama, but it was this was seriously primo conditions. I only counted one snake, but countless other reptiles which suggests the environment is in good condition. From here we returned to camp, cooked some dinner and headed to bed once the sun was down.

Discovery Bay Coastal Park

Happy 2015: despite being small in number, our camp mates still managed to do pretty well on the noise front. It is a funny situation, as we came to escape from others to have a quiet time, but they came to escape others and make noise, and unfortunately, these two are incompatible. Although, through a nasty asymmetry, our existence did not phase them but their assistance definitely phased us.

My photo from 2012 which hangs on our wall

An attempt to take a similar photo to the one hanging on my wall

Our plan for the day was to explore the "local" area, do some hikes and return to Jackass fern gully campground. Despite being close by, Portland is still 50 kilometres away; the town is an interesting place, with a rich history but has been on an odd trajectory. Initially inhabited by the Dhauwurd Wurrung, a group famed for having permanent settlements and advanced fishing traps, who were later displaced by European squatters from Tasmania who turned up before any European settlements were established in Victoria to run sheep. This makes Portland the oldest city in Victoria. The city is home to a deep water port and consequently shipping is a big deal, and indeed Portland was planned to be a major target for a decentralised Victoria; however, this plan fell apart, as many projects for the region have. More recently, the area was touted to become the home of wind power in Australia, with a large blade manufacturing plant opening in 2005 but closing in 2007 due to a lack of government investment, which will be looked back on as a massive mistake. Especially given that one of the major industries in the area is an aluminium smelter; obviously it is not (yet) feasible to supply a smelter with wind power, but it anything that works towards improving upon the power lines which run direct from Loy Yang A to the Portland Aluminium Smelter, some 425 kilometres as the crow flies, is a good idea in my book. This is all to say that the city has an identity and culture cultivated for it, and the end result is not somewhere I enjoy being, which is such a shame as the location of the city and its environs are magnificent.

We briefly passed through town, but our primary destination was the Discovery bay coastal park, on the western side of the headland. We had visited the area back in 2012 on our way back from Adelaide, but not explored as much as we wanted. In particular, Cape Bridgewater stands out as one of the most majestic locations in the state - and one that I see every day due to having an exceptionally large print on our wall of a photo I took back in 2012. So naturally, we made our way back, and in particular we did a walk along the coast to the seal colony, where a lookout provides a great spot to see two separate colonies: one of Australian fur seals and another of New Zealand fur seals, neither of which are geographically localised as their names may suggest. The walk along the coast is something else: enormous sea cliffs a wild features created from a volcanic past give it a unique flavour and the rich earthy colours contrast magnificently against the blue of the ocean. Certainly some of best 5 kilometres I have walked along a coast. We also spent a bit of time at the blowholes and the petrified forest, features which hark back to the areas volcanic past. I aslo could not help but try to emulate the photo which hangs on our wall - as through bad backup practices and stupidity, I lost the .RAW and only have the processed .JPEG - however, the conditions were not quite right. We did however observe some pretty funky clouds.

The afternoon's activity was walking in the Mount Richmond National park, a nearby extinct volcano. The peak is only 200 metres high, but the area is quite diverse, with one side being battered by wind and slowly covered by creeping sand and the other side being fairly sheltered. We drove to the summit and stitched together the Benwerrin nature walk and ocean view walk to have something more than a little stroll. The wind was roaring when we were exposed, but when sheltered it was pleasant. We did not see all to much wildlife, save for a few koalas, but the environment looked healthy, a benefit that sadly comes from being a long where from any major city.

We also were becoming very aware of the Great South West Walk, a long distance walk that I had hitherto never heard of, but is heavily advertised in the area, and basically all the walking that we had done was in effect on sections of the track. It therefore seems like something that would be something worthwhile doing, especially for a sense of seclusion. Once we had wrapped up for the day, we headed back to camp, where we had been joined by a family who had driven down from Parramatta, which I found notable given it is some 1,200 kilometres away! But perhaps more interesting were our interactions, as they left an imprint on me. After a bit of a chat, the father said that they came down as the area gave them a sense of being home, and given they were aboriginal, perhaps they had Dhauwurd Wurrung heritage. In any case, at some point later in the evening, the bloke came over and tells me he saw a large tiger snake around the campsite - which I appreciated - but then proceeded to ask me if I knew what a tiger snake was and was highly derogatory towards me and more generally white city folk - which I did not appreciate. I just said thanks for info and left it at that, but I certainly stewed on the interaction into the evening.

The view from the ocean view walk; you can see the ocean

Lower Glenelg National Park

We had been dealt an interesting hand in terms of the weather, with mild temperatures combined with torrential downpours in the Otways and strong winds along the coast, but given it was mid-summer it was not surprising that there was some hot weather forecast. It did however come with a vengeance, with the coming days forecast for the mid-forties with strong gusty winds, namely top bushfire conditions. Indeed, it was a total fire-ban day, which is why when we were packing up, I was rather surprised to see the same family as yesterday having a large open cooking fire. Again, this situation has been the cause of much reflection, as the conditions at that point were perfectly safe: it was probably around 0700 a temperature of 30 degrees and a very gentle breeze. I was not sure whether to go over and have a chat, as it is a pretty loaded topic, and ultimately I decided to do and say nothing. I don't think I would do the same thing if the same situation arose today, but it did serve to highlight that cultural and historical baggage only serves to complicate matters. Would I go and talk to someone doing the same thing if they were not aboriginal? I think the answer is it depends, but the fact I was fretting about a whole bunch of other things over which I would not fret if the person weren't aboriginal tells me that there is an issue.

Given it was going to be toasty, we wanted to get strait to our outdoor activities before it go too hot. Unfortunately, driving through through Cobboboonee National park in the early morning would turn out to be a pretty poor choice. I complained earlier that I nearly hit a roo driving to the twelve apostles, but the drive south to the Portland - Nelson Road was the most intense drive with respect to roos I have ever done. There quantity was astounding, but the attitude of running next to cars and not getting off the road made the 20 kilometre drive feel like an eternity. I appreciate that this is a privileged problem: driving whilst on holiday and there being too much wildlife, but the stress that comes from not wanting to minimally impact on the ecosystem is very real. Back on the main road, life was easy as we headed west towards Nelson. Most of the way is a massive pine plantation (which would burn down days later in a bushfire) and there are proposals for a massive power storage facility combined with an expanded wind farm network stretching from Nelson to Portland, but it certainly is a contrast to the native bush that surrounds the plantation.

Arriving in Nelson we wanted to fill up our water supply; however only bore water was available and it was near undrinkable. It is a crazy problem to have, where you are surrounded by water in the form of the Glenelg river and Bass Strait and yet cannot drink it and must use bore water. It seems only natural that a wind powered desalination plant will appear in the area in the near future. Around town we saw an advertisement for kayak hire, which would have been fantastic had we known it was a thing to do. Instead, we were visiting the Lower Glenelg National Park to walk along the deep limestone canyon that the river has carved out. The track largely runs either on or parallel to a section of River Road, which is accessed by North Nelson Road, which is very sandy. Even though it is marked as 2WD accessible, it was a bit hairy. The walk itself was nice, but the conditions were very uncomfortable due to the heat and wind. Seeing people on the river made me pretty envious, especially passing a kayak only campsite which was isolated and shaded - it is where I wanted to be, and perhaps will be, one day.

Once we had finished up our walk, it was absolutely roasting and doing things outdoors was not really an option. As luck would have it, the self-proclaimed jewel in the crown of the Lower Glenelg National Park is the Princess Margaret Rose Caves. The main cave complex is located on the northern bank of the river, directly opposite where we had just been walking; however, by car it is a 20 kilometre drive via South Australia. This is noteworthy as when crossing state borders, one must be careful of biosecurity laws, which forbid certain foods (amongst other things) from being taken across state lines, and we were indeed in possession of such foods, but given we were in South Australia for less than 10 minutes and drove along the border, we were not giving them up.

Access to the cave is only by tour and is pricey, but having access to an air conditioned room for buying tickets was pretty nice. Entrance to the cave is via a long set of stairs before coming out is what was an old waterway which acted as a shortcut for water to flow through the limestone rather than around. The cave is relatively young and therefore does not have that many features, despite the wikipedia page claiming that "it is arguably the most decorated cave per square metre in Australia", which is definitely coming from dividing by a small area. The most interesting thing from my point of view was the tree roots which has come down from the surface and emerged in cave had come down some 50 metres in their search for water. But by far the highlight was the tour guide doing the standard trick of turning out the lights to show what pitch black looks like and a Chinese tourist taking out his phone to take a picture of said darkness - with a flash no less - and when the tour guide told him to put it away, he did nothing as he clearly did not understand. A friend or relative in his group then translated this and he reacted by putting his phone behind his back, but as the screen was illuminated, it just acted to illuminate the cave behind him. It was absolutely hilarious and really punctuate the tour experience.

Returning to the surface was an rude shock, especially as I have learnt to wear warm clothes whenever I go into caves, so emerging with a down jacket into 43 degrees is a bit rough. We loaded back into the car and set out for a bit of a drive. Initially we had planned on heading to the Grampians National Park and spending some a day or two there; however fires were happening in and around the area, and with conditions set to worsen, we decided better of it and thought we would head home. This meant a 300 kilometre journey back to Smythesdale, but it also meant a shower and a comfortable bed, so we didn't need much convincing. We stopped in at Hamilton to pick up a treat at Kings Bakery & Cafe (which was pretty good) and I definitely should have gotten some fuel, but got the idea in my head that it would be better to get it back in Ballarat. The price of this mistake was driving against the gauge, with running out of fuel being a real possibility and arriving at the servo in Skipton after riding the fuel light for much longer than you ever want to. Moreover, filling up in Skipton was much more expensive than Hamilton and I felt as though I aged a month or two over the duration of the drive from Hamilton to Skipton. From there it was only 40 kilometres back to Smythesdale and after the tedium of unpacking and sorting our (well, mostly Mia's parents) gear, we rewarded ourselves with a meal at the Court House Hotel, which had tasty food but a rather average beer selection.

Overall, I would characterise the holiday as outside the norm for us, in that there was much more of a laissez faire attitude to the whole thing. This was the cause of stress initially, but made for a good time when things fell into place. The area was one that we have explored previously, and this trip made me want to explore more.

Adventures

Southwest Victoria