So after some 6 months of living in Melbourne, we picked up our rent-a-car (an 'economic' Hyundai i20), committed ourselves to a few weeks of camping, cheap eating and less than average hygiene, and headed west in search of beaches, blue skies, wineries, dead and/or alive wildlife, and most importantly, an experience of a lifetime.
First experience - the famous Great Ocean Road. Starting at Geelong, the GOR is a stretch of road that winds through quaint seaside / surfing towns (most notable of which is Torquay - home of the surf company Rip Curl) complete with some jaw-dropping houses that I'm sure would give Kevin McLeod even the slightest erection. The GOR also provides stunning vistas of immense landscapes and geographic features like the very touristy 12 apostles, and the opportunity to get up close with some rather cute, if not a touch boring, koalas (they nap for 20 hours only waking up to scratch themselves and pose for camera-toting tourists). One of my definite favourite towns here has to be Lorne - a quiet surfer town with blue water, fishing piers and a laid back mentality. Love it.
Unfortunately, as it's the south coast, wind there is pretty intense. As a result, I lost my favourite hat at the apostles. If any one finds a blue and yellow rip curl hat, consider it my seredipitous gift to you. You're welcome.
Due north of Warrnambool, the last coastal town of the Great Ocean Road, is the Grampians National Park. After a few nights of 'roughing it' in a tent in some rather questionable / random / precarious spots, we opted for the luxuries of toilets and hot showers at a touristy campsite in Halls Gap, the central hub of the Grampians.
An aside about campsites: Now I enjoy a spot of camping as much as the next outdoorsman for the simple fact that, well, it's outdoors and often times enables you to experience some beautiful and remote spots where your every day Ibis or Holiday Inn may not. However, camping is not an entirely comfortable experience; no showers, sweaty nights, constricting mummy-like sleeping bags and 5 sorry millimeters of foam separating you from the back ache-inducing earth beneath you. But as mentioned, it's a small price to pay to be surrounded by the sights, sounds, and smells (other than your own 3 day funk) of nature.
That being said, with the exception of being able to use a hot shower, or a flushable toilet (as opposed to a long drop, or indeed, behind a bush) I don't quite understand campsites. You're neighbours with either other tent-dwellers - usually families with screaming children (no, Mummy isn't there and doesn't care, and has left you in the hopes that wildlife will raise you instead à la Jungle Book) - or more interestingly, families with campervans or motorhomes, in which is like having all of your creature comforts, but for a limited time because Dad's worried about draining the battery and you're all cramped together under one tin roof playing miniature scrabble and drinking from miniature cups. Instead of hearing the soothing ambient sounds of the great outdoors, you hear the old man in the tent next to you hacking up a lung or trumping out his dinner of tinned beans, and of course Mogley in the other tent who is still whimpering away. It just all seems a bit silly and pointless. As mentioned, I do enjoy camping in the outdoors, but really the only reason I'm camping now in the first place is because the tent was free, Australia is expensive, and I am cheap :) Rant over.
The Grampians National Park is pretty awesome. We did a fair few walks, saw some pretty waterfalls, made a few fires, roasted some marshmallows, drove along dirt tracks to get to an olive grove (which turned out to be closed) and saw some breathtaking landscapes. Oh and nearly took out a number of kangaroos in our car along the way. Skippy is a bit slippy in headlights.
As a foodie and aspiring wino, I had to visit some of the wineries along the Great Western Highway. The winery of choice had to be the famous Bests Winery, originally built in the 1800s which features an under ground cellar of gargantuan wine barrels and dusty bottles of port from the 1960s just waiting to wash down a platter of smelly cheeses. In the spirit of responsible drinking / designated driver, I limited myself to only one winery and only two 'samples' (a lovely 'drink by the fire' Shiraz and a delicate pino meunier) though I would've quite happily 'sampled' until I passed out beneath some pino grape vine.
After another random night of setting up the tent alongside the motorway (ill add monoxide poisoning to the list of reasons to camp), we drove into Syney. I love this city. So many things to do and see. Or you can do none and just sit in the botanical gardens and watch the world go by - it's all good. It seems as though, like Melbourne, the city is populated by the beautiful, fit and healthy; everyone is running or cycling or doing push-ups on every curb, ledge and staircase. They actually use those exercise spots in parks at which you typically see under 15s drinking Lambrini or sharing a curious and awkward first-time grope.
The general debate is that you either love Sydney or you love Melbourne however Ill be bold and controversial and say nay, I love both.
As per, my entry has become much longer/wordier than initially planned and though there is much more to share (the rest of the East Coast) I shall swiftly end it. Similarly, I have taken an excessive amount of photos, too much to upload so a collage of my favourites (so far) will have to do (courtesy of Instacollage).
Enjoy. Much love.
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