Continuing from where I left off...
DAY 2
Free Sunday parking in Geelong expires at 9am on Monday morning, so I had to be up and out of the Nash bright and early which, all in all, worked out quite well as I headed south-east to the Surf Coast (as the stretch from the Bellarine Peninsula down to Cape Otway is known). The Great Ocean Road begins shortly after the seaside town of Torquay, which is home to some hefty waves and hundreds of surfers, but otherwise not a great deal for someone working on a budget - general consensus is that it's a bit of a pretty boys' town. However, the town's war memorial garden a top of a protruding section of rock, aptly named "Point Danger", provides a nice view looking both ways up and down the coast (the former seen in the photo below).
Heading out from Torquay puts you onto the Great Ocean Road (or "GOR"), although you don't see much of what the hype is about for a long way yet - it's about 40km from Torquay to the next town, Anglesea, and most of it is somewhat inland cutting through sections of the Great Otway National Park. Anglesea itself is a quiet little town, again with a beach full of boogie-boarders, but its most famous tourist attraction is almost certainly its golf course at the top of the town - in amongst the fareways live an army of kangaroos that hop around without a care in the world as golfers smack balls around them. Several tourist information centres had described it as being a place where you're guaranteed to see 'roos in the wild, and the LPG confidently declares that "there's always a posse of them along the Golf Links Road". It was typical, therefore, that even after driving around the course for about half an hour, I didn't see a single one. Disappointing.
As you continue further down the coast, you pass Bells Beach, renouned as having the best surf almost anywhere in Australia, and soon arrive at Airey's Inlet - a tiny little village with a population of 1000 that is home to one of the many big lighthouses that mark the major indented heads along the GOR's coastal route - which was historically the shipwreck capital of the British Empire. With ships going down like high catches to Adam Dowson, with the frequency of a Jamie Nimmo forward defensive, every major indented head along the whole southern coast was armed with a lighthouse that could project light 7km out to sea by the end of the 19th century. But back in the present, I was in need of a sharp bit of coffee, I stopped off at a cosy little family run cafe next to the lighthouse and ended up stuck in a conversation with an old Aussie chap who, while perfectly friendly, was pretty damn deaf and responding to most things by shouting "WHART?" at the top of his voice. And, being a man of a different generation, he had some fairly amusing views on the world, British culture (big fan), Australian culture (not a fan), and various other issues spanning the fallacy of global warming and state of Australian cricket. 
Anyway, with nowhere booked for tonight either, I was quite keen on getting down to Lorne, which most people had told me was the place to crash, and getting somewhere sorted. As well as including the famous "Great Ocean Road" sign suitable posed above, the section from Airey's Inlet to Lorne is where the GOR begins to unveil its full flamboyant glory, running along the water's edge, rising and falling as it scales the geological barriers in its path, diving in and out of crumbling limestone cliff faces; all the while with the turquoise blue Southern Ocean over to you left, lapping the sands of the countless beaches along the way. Amazing driving conditions, and on top of that it turned out things really aren't as rammed - at least at my end of the market - as some people made out - first hostel I went to had plenty(ish) of space so it was happy days for me. Lorne is a beautiful little town, with a pier out to the sea overlooking the town's long stretch of beach. I had a pre-lunch swim in the sea, but then post-lunch decided to make the most of having a car at my disposal on an amazing stretch of road and cruised down to Apollo Bay - the next major town, a further 45km down the GOR.
I reached Apollo Bay at about 3.45pm - it would have been a lot sooner had I not been stuck for 39 of the 45 kilometres behind a nut who refused to make use of any of the 50 or so lay-bys provided with the explicit signposted orders: "Slow vehicles pull over in turnouts. Please consider vehicles behind you". This plonker had no consideration, and dawdled along a road with an 80km/h speed limit (50mph) at a mindnumbing 40km/h all the way into Apollo Bay where he finally pulled over to park. I'd be downright lying if I tried to claim that a fair few expletives hadn't been uttered in my Tiida, but all was forgotten as I lay out on the white sand in the evening sun, looking out to the beach stretching away for miles to the north west, while to the south-east the boats docked in Apollo Bay Marina idled elegantly, sails rattling in the brisk coastal breeze. After some time I decided to take on the water, which proved to be absolutely freezing, but I ended up out there for a good half an hour after overhearing a familiar Kentish accent - sure enough a couple of sisters from Canterbury were out visiting family for a few weeks and were equally freaked out by the weirdness of floating in the sea on the beach in the late afternoon sunshine 3 days before Christmas. All Brits in Australia seem to have at least this much in common!
Wanting to check out a couple of walking trails around Lorne before the sun set, I made sure I was up and out before 5 o'clock, giving me time to take a brief detour up to Mariners' Lookout, just outside Apollo Bay. Getting to the lookout involves a drive up a quite ridiculously steep section of road - parts must have been approaching 45 degree gradient - to a little below the top of the tallest of several large hills that enclose the Bay into its small coastal enclave. From there it's a 10 minute trek up to the summit, whom which you have a view that can only be described as breathtaking. To the north-west, you have the Great Ocean Road winding its way up, down and around the golden-orange limestone cliffs, stretching out for miles in front of you; to the south-east you have to township of Apollo Bay, its expanse of beach and the Apollo bay peninsula jutting out into the water - though from the height of the viewpoint you can see right over the top of the peninsula out to the ocean on the other side. And just top top off an idyllic scene, a sole horse was up at the top of the hill grazing - him and I alone, looking out into infinity. Naturally, I nabbed a snappy snap:
After spending about 10km on the way back stuck behind a Winnebago (camping van), I got a good half hour of enjoying the open road once Mr. Slow had finally turned left at Kennet River, though I detoured on arrival in Lorne to head up to the steep hills to the top of town, park the car, and trek for 20 minutes or so through Queens Park and its forests of gum trees up to Teddy's Lookout. The lookout offers yet another incredible viewpoint of the GOR winding its way out of Lorne, but here combining the rocky, rugged cliffs with the mouth St. George River, itself rolling down to the coast from the lush green forest inland, and merging with the sea 100 feet below us. I personally think the photo below is pretty good, but it still does scant justice to what was on display in reality.
The sightseeing wasn't over just yet - after descending back down to me car I headed inland further to Erskine Falls - located 8km inland from Lorne within the Great Otway National Park. Completely enclosed by dense forest, you'd never say you're in the same state as the dry, desolate landscapes I'd seen just a week ago up in the bush - the roar of water crashing down 100 feet or was barely visible as you approached it through the forest, so dense was the vegetation. That is not to say it was a puny waterfall - the viewing platform from the top gives you a tidy view right down to the bottom (though fit lads like yours truly who are prepared to climb all the way back up can also work their way right down to the bottom to look back up - and get corny photos like the one below) and gives you a pretty solid appreciation of the potentially behind the simple combination of water and gravity...
What was similar to the bush was the nutter 'roos, one of whom sat on the side of the road watching my car as it approached, and picked that exact moment to jump across the road. Luckily I was slowing down as soon as I saw him (I wanted a photo), so all harm was averted. But you do wonder about the intelligence of some creatures...
Anyway, in terms of all-round enjoyment, this was without doubt one of the best days of my life, and good days tend to begin and end with good food. A nice bit of seafood marinara pasta, loaded with fresh prawns, mussels, scallops and fish saw me nicely settled for dinner, and a rowdy mix of Swiss Germans, Quebecois Canadanians, Queenslanders and various miscellaneous others provided entertainment of sorts over a few beers back at the hostel well into the early hours.
P.S. I've also uploaded a couple of photos to "Part 1"...
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