Every since I was a little boy, Koalas intrigued me. My grandmother on my mother’s side used to show me pictures of koalas and kangaroos from her encyclopedia Britannica set when she watched me and I spent the night back in elementary school. I have the fondest memories of her talking me through the pictures and words on those pages. I so wanted to be in those places and see those things because she made everything seem so spectacularly fresh, exciting, and better than what we were living. I credit her for sparking my love for foreign places and far away locations by highlighting the unusual foods, creatures, and customs. Tragically, she never got to see any foreign lands – at that time, I was neither in a position to financially facilitate a trip, nor was she in good enough health before her death. So, this trip to Australia means a lot to me on many personal levels. In a way, I am fulfilling both her dreams and my own. I know somehow her energy is thrilled at the prospect of me traipsing through the outback and hitting the major cities and destinations Australia offers. And, given my encounter in New Zealand, I am also looking forward to a repeat visit by her spirit – probably while I am alone, under the stars during my tour of the way-outback, she will speak to me again just like she did years ago at Cape Reinga, NZ.
The hotelier who ran the hostel provided me with great advice and a map. As I noted previously, I had planned to just return to Melbourne from Apollo Bay, but he told me I had to move forward down the Great Ocean Road to see the Twelve Apostles and other sites an hour or so West of Apollo Bay. He also outline a short-cut back to Melbourne that would shave an hour or more off the drive once I had seen all the sites he suggested. When I told him the story of my grandmother telling me about Australia as a boy, his eyes moistened a bit – maybe he too developed a similar passion within a young person? He drew a circle on the map he had provided to me, and then wrote the names of cross-streets within the Otway National Park where I was to drive, pull the car over, and get out looking up into the eucalyptus trees. This area, he maintained, would be where I would spot native Koalas, resting and climbing in the trees. He seemed so certain of this, that I felt compelled to act. I mean, real life Koalas that I could reach out and touch seemed entirely too amazing to ignore.
Charging with enthusiasm, I quickly packed up the rental and got on the road to Otway National Park. Less than an hour later, I pulled to the left off the B100 onto C157 and headed south toward the lighthouse, making sure not to go all the way to the coast. “Look for the signs to Blanket Bay,” he instructed. My mind raced with anticipation, the little boy within could barely contain himself. I was about to see real koalas! Had the roads not been so narrow, winding, and rough, I would have speed faster to find them. Just prior to the road off to Blanket Bay, I noticed a car had pulled to the side of the road. A young Asian woman was jumping and pointing into the trees with great excitement. I nearly wrecked the rental I stopped so hard, causing dust and rocks to spray forward. I immediately found my camera and jumped out of the car. I ran back to where the woman stood with her video camera. As I glanced up, I lost my breath slightly as I caught the first sight of the little fella. A drop of his poop hit me within the first few seconds of watching him, this I took as a great and fortunate sign of luck. He continued to drop one poop pellet after another for the entire ten minutes I marveled at him. Poopie, as I was calling him, basically sat on a branch sleeping, yawned and stretched every so often, and pooped, a lot. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but this activity, or lack thereof, surprised me. I did my best to bother him with calling him his new name, Poopie, but he was nonplussed. As I looked elsewhere in the trees above, I began spotting other Koalas – little furry balls nestled between Y-branches in the trees. Seems I caught about six of them in total – mostly doing the same as Poopie. I took some very cute photos of them. And, just like one can imagine, I was overcome with the sensation of simply wanted to hug and cuddle with them (even though I realize they are wild creatures and apparently not all that cuddle-friendly). I immediately understood their significance within the Australian culture.
Careful now to appreciate these moments, I took some time to say thank you to the universe for delivering to me something I had wanted to experience most of my life (as odd as that may sound to readers). I felt blessed to witness these creatures in their natural habitat verses a zoo. I felt appreciative for everything, including the poop on my shoulder. As a special thank you, one of the Koalas roared as he climbed up to higher tree branches. The sound he, or she, made was unlike anything I had ever heard. A roar-ish moan is the best I can do to describe the sound. His mouth opened, he stretched, and then adjusted his position – all the while making this harrowing sound that echoed through the forest. Then, as quickly as it started, it was over. He quieted down and fell back asleep on the branch. Silence again and I mumbled a profound than you to those creatures for the gift.
Then, back in the rental and on to the next stop – Castle Cove, a great lookout spot which turned out to be just as majestic and scenic as promised. The vantage point, the wind and salty air, combined with bird watching combined to deliver another natural, beautiful experience. The ocean acted up, harsh waves breaking and spaying brilliantly – offering me a show as if on cue. The Gibson Steps were next on the list and a fair distance away. I devoured an entire bag of Doritos (not the snack size, nor the large size we have in the states, but a medium sized bag that I had never seen and a flavor – savory chili that I wanted to experience) during the drive as my hunger finally seized and conquered my willpower. I was expecting a pretty intense set of stairs, so I reasoned that I would burn off the chips anyway. When I got to Gibson Steps, I was slightly annoyed to discover that they were not too extensive or steep and they were all wet from the waves so I could not really run up and down for exercise. I made the most of it and did manage to work up a sweat and burn a few calories, but certainly not the amount contained in that bag of chips.
Next up was the world famous Twelve Apostles, formally named the Sow and the Piglets. These massive structures are as impressive in person as they are in pictures and on TV. And, they certainly are the most popular destination for tourists. Every other place I stopped I witnessed about a handful of other folks checking out the sights, but here, well, let’s just say they have built a pretty massive welcome center and parking lot to accommodate the masses. I fought my way through the tunnel under the road and onto the walkway that meandered toward the cliffs. I could see the top of one apostle almost immediately, and as I walked closer I began to see the magnificence of this place. I guess some people are not too excited about nature, but I tend to marvel at the brilliance of our planet – the forces, elements, and cycles – the interplay of it all. This place delivers. And, beyond the obvious scientific and naturalistic appeal, I found the site quite spiritual too.
The Lock and Gorge, a stop about five minute’s drive to the West of the 12 Apostles, was actually more impressive, but under sold by the Aussies. This assessment is based on the size of the parking lots between the two stops. The destruction of the ocean’s waves against the rock and dirt here has created massive inlets, several caves, dramatic cliffs and even a few accessible beaches. And, this is where the largest of the apostles sits (or the sow, as she used to be called). I spent a good deal of time here. After realizing tourists could interact with the place down at the beach, I jumped at the chance. Although sunny, it was too cold to swim, but certainly warm enough to rest on the beach. I climbed down a mighty set of stairs to the little remote beach. As I made my way toward an area of sandy perfection, I glance up to appreciate the enormity of the cliffs above me. Ignoring the signs that warned me to stay away from the unstable cliffs, I planted myself directly under the cliff that jetted out above me. The waves over time had carved away at the rock where I sat, causing the structure to be much more narrow at the bottom than the top, giving the appearance of sort of a V. One doesn’t need to understand physics too well to understand how this could be a dangerous spot to meditate and capture a few sun rays. Unconcerned, I took off my shirt, spread it out over the white sandy bed of rejuvenation, and assumed the position. Although there were dozens of families and tourists above me, no one could see me and I meditated alone on this beach until I fell fast asleep. About thirty minutes later, refreshed from my power nap, I brushed off the sand, which had since discovered all my crevices, and made my way back to the car. Saddened a bit that my Great Ocean Road drive was now complete.
The short-cut back to Melbourne took me through farm country – a real treat to this Indiana boy. I could have been driving in Indiana for certain and only a palm tree here and there (and the obviousness of driving on the left) betrayed my illusion. After spotting a sign for cheese tasting, I pulled the rental off the paved road and onto a dusty one, and drove slowly until I found the farm. Inside the small touristy shop, I found an odd little cheese maker man who was quite eager to share his creations. Fully over my vegan years, cheese has once again become a favorite indulgence of mine, so this slight detour off the path to Melbourne pleased me deeply. I sampled 13 pieces before I opted to buy one out of guilt and appreciation for the experience. I picked their award-winning blue – so robust and pleasurable that I could not resist. I opened the package and devoured it along my drive back to Melbourne. The Coke zero I purchased surprisingly paired nicely with the blue cheese and served as a fine substitute for the large red I would have preferred to enjoy.
The hotelier who ran the hostel provided me with great advice and a map. As I noted previously, I had planned to just return to Melbourne from Apollo Bay, but he told me I had to move forward down the Great Ocean Road to see the Twelve Apostles and other sites an hour or so West of Apollo Bay. He also outline a short-cut back to Melbourne that would shave an hour or more off the drive once I had seen all the sites he suggested. When I told him the story of my grandmother telling me about Australia as a boy, his eyes moistened a bit – maybe he too developed a similar passion within a young person? He drew a circle on the map he had provided to me, and then wrote the names of cross-streets within the Otway National Park where I was to drive, pull the car over, and get out looking up into the eucalyptus trees. This area, he maintained, would be where I would spot native Koalas, resting and climbing in the trees. He seemed so certain of this, that I felt compelled to act. I mean, real life Koalas that I could reach out and touch seemed entirely too amazing to ignore.
Charging with enthusiasm, I quickly packed up the rental and got on the road to Otway National Park. Less than an hour later, I pulled to the left off the B100 onto C157 and headed south toward the lighthouse, making sure not to go all the way to the coast. “Look for the signs to Blanket Bay,” he instructed. My mind raced with anticipation, the little boy within could barely contain himself. I was about to see real koalas! Had the roads not been so narrow, winding, and rough, I would have speed faster to find them. Just prior to the road off to Blanket Bay, I noticed a car had pulled to the side of the road. A young Asian woman was jumping and pointing into the trees with great excitement. I nearly wrecked the rental I stopped so hard, causing dust and rocks to spray forward. I immediately found my camera and jumped out of the car. I ran back to where the woman stood with her video camera. As I glanced up, I lost my breath slightly as I caught the first sight of the little fella. A drop of his poop hit me within the first few seconds of watching him, this I took as a great and fortunate sign of luck. He continued to drop one poop pellet after another for the entire ten minutes I marveled at him. Poopie, as I was calling him, basically sat on a branch sleeping, yawned and stretched every so often, and pooped, a lot. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but this activity, or lack thereof, surprised me. I did my best to bother him with calling him his new name, Poopie, but he was nonplussed. As I looked elsewhere in the trees above, I began spotting other Koalas – little furry balls nestled between Y-branches in the trees. Seems I caught about six of them in total – mostly doing the same as Poopie. I took some very cute photos of them. And, just like one can imagine, I was overcome with the sensation of simply wanted to hug and cuddle with them (even though I realize they are wild creatures and apparently not all that cuddle-friendly). I immediately understood their significance within the Australian culture.
Careful now to appreciate these moments, I took some time to say thank you to the universe for delivering to me something I had wanted to experience most of my life (as odd as that may sound to readers). I felt blessed to witness these creatures in their natural habitat verses a zoo. I felt appreciative for everything, including the poop on my shoulder. As a special thank you, one of the Koalas roared as he climbed up to higher tree branches. The sound he, or she, made was unlike anything I had ever heard. A roar-ish moan is the best I can do to describe the sound. His mouth opened, he stretched, and then adjusted his position – all the while making this harrowing sound that echoed through the forest. Then, as quickly as it started, it was over. He quieted down and fell back asleep on the branch. Silence again and I mumbled a profound than you to those creatures for the gift.
Then, back in the rental and on to the next stop – Castle Cove, a great lookout spot which turned out to be just as majestic and scenic as promised. The vantage point, the wind and salty air, combined with bird watching combined to deliver another natural, beautiful experience. The ocean acted up, harsh waves breaking and spaying brilliantly – offering me a show as if on cue. The Gibson Steps were next on the list and a fair distance away. I devoured an entire bag of Doritos (not the snack size, nor the large size we have in the states, but a medium sized bag that I had never seen and a flavor – savory chili that I wanted to experience) during the drive as my hunger finally seized and conquered my willpower. I was expecting a pretty intense set of stairs, so I reasoned that I would burn off the chips anyway. When I got to Gibson Steps, I was slightly annoyed to discover that they were not too extensive or steep and they were all wet from the waves so I could not really run up and down for exercise. I made the most of it and did manage to work up a sweat and burn a few calories, but certainly not the amount contained in that bag of chips.
Next up was the world famous Twelve Apostles, formally named the Sow and the Piglets. These massive structures are as impressive in person as they are in pictures and on TV. And, they certainly are the most popular destination for tourists. Every other place I stopped I witnessed about a handful of other folks checking out the sights, but here, well, let’s just say they have built a pretty massive welcome center and parking lot to accommodate the masses. I fought my way through the tunnel under the road and onto the walkway that meandered toward the cliffs. I could see the top of one apostle almost immediately, and as I walked closer I began to see the magnificence of this place. I guess some people are not too excited about nature, but I tend to marvel at the brilliance of our planet – the forces, elements, and cycles – the interplay of it all. This place delivers. And, beyond the obvious scientific and naturalistic appeal, I found the site quite spiritual too.
The Lock and Gorge, a stop about five minute’s drive to the West of the 12 Apostles, was actually more impressive, but under sold by the Aussies. This assessment is based on the size of the parking lots between the two stops. The destruction of the ocean’s waves against the rock and dirt here has created massive inlets, several caves, dramatic cliffs and even a few accessible beaches. And, this is where the largest of the apostles sits (or the sow, as she used to be called). I spent a good deal of time here. After realizing tourists could interact with the place down at the beach, I jumped at the chance. Although sunny, it was too cold to swim, but certainly warm enough to rest on the beach. I climbed down a mighty set of stairs to the little remote beach. As I made my way toward an area of sandy perfection, I glance up to appreciate the enormity of the cliffs above me. Ignoring the signs that warned me to stay away from the unstable cliffs, I planted myself directly under the cliff that jetted out above me. The waves over time had carved away at the rock where I sat, causing the structure to be much more narrow at the bottom than the top, giving the appearance of sort of a V. One doesn’t need to understand physics too well to understand how this could be a dangerous spot to meditate and capture a few sun rays. Unconcerned, I took off my shirt, spread it out over the white sandy bed of rejuvenation, and assumed the position. Although there were dozens of families and tourists above me, no one could see me and I meditated alone on this beach until I fell fast asleep. About thirty minutes later, refreshed from my power nap, I brushed off the sand, which had since discovered all my crevices, and made my way back to the car. Saddened a bit that my Great Ocean Road drive was now complete.
The short-cut back to Melbourne took me through farm country – a real treat to this Indiana boy. I could have been driving in Indiana for certain and only a palm tree here and there (and the obviousness of driving on the left) betrayed my illusion. After spotting a sign for cheese tasting, I pulled the rental off the paved road and onto a dusty one, and drove slowly until I found the farm. Inside the small touristy shop, I found an odd little cheese maker man who was quite eager to share his creations. Fully over my vegan years, cheese has once again become a favorite indulgence of mine, so this slight detour off the path to Melbourne pleased me deeply. I sampled 13 pieces before I opted to buy one out of guilt and appreciation for the experience. I picked their award-winning blue – so robust and pleasurable that I could not resist. I opened the package and devoured it along my drive back to Melbourne. The Coke zero I purchased surprisingly paired nicely with the blue cheese and served as a fine substitute for the large red I would have preferred to enjoy.
2 comments:
Poopie! Oh my goodness I did a big LOL at that one. Glad you are having a good time. I of course am enjoying your trip through your blog. Stay safe!
Boy, what a great day!! You are so lucky to be experiencing all the wonders of this world in your travels. Even the poopie doesn't sound so bad!!! Can't wait until your next post.
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