Driving the Great Ocean Road

Renting a car in Melbourne seemed like a smart idea – heck, I had driven on the left before, about four years ago in New Zealand, so I barely hesitated at the chance to gain the freedom to see more far off places and things by car. As I mentioned, the camper van idea in Melbourne fell through because of the 5 day rental requirements of all the camper rental companies. I even enlisted the assistance of sweet old lady at the visitor’s center in the airport. She too found no luck for me. So, a day later, I made my way through the city center by foot to the rental shop to pick up my car. On-line, I had ordered a compact, (think Smartcar) little Korean made export.

When I arrived, I was informed that I needed to have the print-off of the voucher that was issued to me when I ordered on-line. Yes, I typically travel with a printer! Irritated by this development, they send me on a wild goose chase to find an internet café. Oh course, the place they sent me, albeit carrying computers and connections to the internet provided no printers. As I wandered, slightly annoyed but managing to focus on the moment and calm myself, I found another internet café with printers booming. What a wonderful sight and sound to hear a laser printer when you really need one. I paid my minimum of $5 Australian bucks, sat down, got connected, found the site, printed my voucher, collected the print off from the guy at the front, and then hit the exit to the place within 2 minutes. I can be very efficient when needed.

Another ten minute walk later, and I was back to the car rental site where I smugly handed over my voucher to begin this process in earnest. Following some coded communication (in another country the agents would have just spoken in their native tongue, but here they have to be more clever since most tourists speak their language), I signed the forms and headed outside to pick up my baby car.
When the lady pulled up to me in a large, long, luxurious sedan, I looked around, assuming it must be for another person. But, she handed me the keys. Instinctively, I said, “this isn’t what I ordered on-line.” Her face brightened and she happily announced that I had received an upgrade, “for free.” Normally, I would be very pleased about a free upgrade (especially when it happens on an airplane – love that!), but my stomach started turning a little as I stood looking at this elegant car in the tight basement of the car rental building. It’s a big car. The steering wheel was on the right side of the car – you know, where the passenger sits. I have owned and driven a Ford Expedition, so I can handle big, but this is not America. It’s Australia and I have to drive on the left. Moreover, the pictures I reviewed from tourist brochures clearly show some very narrow and cliff-hugging roads, tight turns, and one-lane bridges.

Anxiety mounted. Then, I blurted out that I really need a smaller car. She stumbled a bit with a reply, then took the keys, dotted into her little car rental office, and called the boss upstairs. Alone I stood, eyeing this sedan, when an idea hit me – I can sleep in this car, the back-seat is huge. It’s not a camper, but I am going to make the proverbial lemonade from lemons. I wanted to camp, and the universe has delivered a solution for me. As I fantasized about making this happen – buying some bedding along the way, hitting a grocery store for food and a nice bottle of wine, parking ocean-side just off the road so I could watch the motion of the ocean and listen to the waves as I doze off to sleep, I realized that the rental lady was about to change my car back to a tiny, itty-bitty thing that clearly now, just would not work.

I rushed inside her tiny office. She was busy explaining that the nice American gentleman really wants a compact car. I waved my hands to gain her attention. She proceeded to make my case to her boss. “ No,” I finally said aloud, “It’s fine. I’ll take it. It’s fine. Don’t worry. Never mind.” Upon hearing my words, she informed her boss, “Never mind,” and hung up the phone. She looked at me like I was a large pain in the ass – which, of course, I am. I said simply that “I just want to get going already…”

The first few seconds inside, driving the car, were hellishly nerve-wracking. I had to both acclimate to being on the right side of the car and navigate up two or three flights inside a subterranean car parking structure. Every turn and movement was a potential accident. In hindsight, I should have asked her to drive it up to the street for me, but as they say, 20-20, right! Finally, I exited the building onto an alley. The sun, now shining, guided me to the street. I took a tight left into traffic and away I went.

My first stop was Victoria’s Market – largest outside market in all of Melbourne (maybe even the country, I cannot recall how they bill it), which to my benefit was right around the corner from the car rental place. Stopping there seemed a logical place to find a Speedo, right? If you are reading all of these posts, then you remember that I left all my new suits on my floor at home. I guess there is something about needing or wanting to find something desperately that curses the adventure or potential. I mean typically, I would have spent hours in this outdoor paradise – vendors selling pretty much anything you can imagine from fruits and veggies, to clothes, to crafts, to cookware, to shoes, to belts, to inventions of various levels of ridiculousness, to stuffed animals and touristy crap. But, I was on a mission, a quick one at that, to find a suit so that I could swim in the ocean during my adventure traveling along the Great Ocean Drive. So, I quickly darted up and down the aisles – looking, asking, and begging for a vendor that sold bathing suits. I followed-up on a few leads from helpful vendors, but they were fruitless. No one in the entire market sold bathing suits – I had already given up on Speedos along the way.

Undaunted, I got back into my luxurious sedan and made my way out of Melbourne. Surely, I reasoned to myself, I would simply stop off a store somewhere outside of the city for my bedding, towels, and Speedo. Getting out of the city centre proved a bit more difficult than I had expected. The problem I have is that I just think too highly of my navigation skills and my ability to just wing-it. I also assumed the route to the famous Great Ocean Drive would be clearly marked. I had not anticipated the vast amount of road construction, thus detours, that would complicate my adventure. At the spaghetti bowl where roads meet freeways and freeways meet highways and on-ramps and off-ramps collide, I made a few mistakes, a few times. All in all, I think I drove around in that same area for nearly 40 minutes. Traffic was backed up in all directions. Cones and signs and tape were everywhere. Had it been in Chinese, I wouldn’t have been any more confused. I did not dare look at a map for fear that I would venture onto the right side of the road instinctively. I wasn’t sure where the hell to drive so I just followed other cars, most leading me in directions I did not want. Eventually, I did make my way onto M1, my route, and floored it. At nearly 1pm, I finally started my journey toward the Great Ocean Drive.

Within seconds, my mood elevated as the anxiety disappeared and the sweat dried. I turned up the radio, listened to old school rock, and speed up to 110, breaking the speed limit by 10 (such a rebel, right!). Driving on the freeway was exhilarating. All cars moving the same direction eliminates one’s fear of screwing up. The landscape began to change immediately – trees and farmland and lovely little suburbs. When I arrived in Geelong, I found a Target Store (love me some Target). I was able to find a little black Speedo on sale, a large European pillow also on sale, and a two pack towel set; you guessed it, also on sale. In and out in a jiffy with my goods for just over $40 Australian (about $36 US).

Just south of Geelong is the city of Torquay, which serves at the official start of the Great Ocean Road. The Great Ocean Road was commissioned just after WW1 to memorialize the Victorians (Australians from the state of Victoria) who fought and died in the great battle. It was completed around 1932. The road travels along the coast, mostly, and begins in Torquay and ends at Nelsen – about 400 km of beauty, sights, and activities. My journey will basically stop at Apollo Bay and the Great Otway National Park. My plan was to travel just half the distance and return back to Melbourne for my flight to Sydney and adventures beyond.

I made a quick driving pace, blowing through the small coastal towns along the way to Apollo Bay. I did make some stops at the scenic vantage points for pictures and to ready the signage, like a good tourist. The drive certainly delivers upon its reputation – being a literally one of the most beautiful, dramatic coastline in the world. Beaches, dramatic cliffs, interesting trees and vegetation, and animals pepper the drive, making the hours in the car pass quickly. At one point, I even drove through a wild fire that had skipped across the road onto the other side. The firemen were busy doing what they could to contain and put out the fire. I had a bit of California brush fire déjà vu as I drove past watching the red flames char and tear through the Australian bush.

I stopped in Apollo Bay. Stretching my legs felt glorious. I wandered about, catching families surfing as the day was just beginning to end. I found a young fisher man catching squid and two young surfer girls scream and playing with the squid as the squid were spraying their ink onto the concrete of the dock once the fisherman de-hooked them. In the water just near the young girls and the fisherman, I noticed two enormous sting-rays swimming, well more like gliding, through the water by the docks. I could not help but think of Steve Irwin who was killed by one of those creatures – odd sensation standing in Australia watching the sting-rays thinking of a famous Australian who was killed by one of them. I stood watching, mesmerized, thinking how both ugly yet beautiful they are.

The plan was to sleep in Apollo Bay. I had it all worked out. The problem was I could not find a suitable place to pull over and camp in my car. In NZ, I had no trouble pulling the camper over in a remote area. I tried a few places, but nothing felt right. I quickly gave up on the camping in the car idea when I drove past an amazing looking modern structure just behind the sea-side shops. As I was admiring the architecture, I noticed that it was a hostel (not the dingy youth-kind most familiar to people). Compelled, I ventured in to inquire about a vacancy. Sure enough, they had a single available. This I learned was because most people share – four beds to a room. I wanted to sleep (as the jet-lag was hitting me) and wanted to do that alone and in a quiet place. Embarrassing as it may sound, I got into the room, put my bags down, climbed onto the bed and passed out – at around 8:49 pm. I have been up since 5 am writing and reading.

Today I will be doing to the Great Otway National Park where I plan to see some Koalas (was a dream of my grandmother who used to tell me about them as a young boy). Then, I will make my way to the 12 Apostles (beautiful limestone rock formations) jetting up from the sea, or more accurately stated, silhouettes formed by the mighty thrashing of the sea. I will do some hiking/climbing on the Gibsod Steps, catch the views at Loch And Gorge, and then end my day at the Bay of Islands. Driving the Great Ocean Road