Great Ocean Road Pt. 3

Loch Ard Gorge
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We woke up early to finally reach the great ocean road. As the sun rose we were cruising through farm fields and rolling hillsides. For some reason Foggy, who seemed more agitated than usual, stopped at the Welcome to Victoria sign so we could take pictures. My idea of an interesting sign might say Welcome to Afghanistan, or even Welcome to Canada, but a photo of the demarcation between two Australian states seems unlikely to make our album. At some point Foggy started to mutter and curse to herself making us further suspect her sanity. The first scheduled stop on our program as we reached the great ocean road was the Bay of Islands. As we approached this first spectacular location we saw great pillar like formations across waving fields of grass that were bathed in the intense blood orange light of morning. A gasp went up in the bus as we all glimpsed this first famous stop on the Great Ocean Road. Foggy kept driving. She seemed to have lost her sunglasses and was cursing the sunglasses gods. She made a quick announcement telling us what we were missing and continued down the road. Magda pressed her face against the glass as the photogenic scene disappeared.

Twelve Apostles
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Foggy stopped a mile or so down the road at the traumatically unspectacular Bay of Martyrs where a dense fog was only just retreating from view. The sun hadn't reached the bay yet. Magda rather sharply complained and asked if we would be by any chance returning to the first view. Foggy replied that it wasn't on the schedule (it was) and besides, you can see the Bay of Islands from the Bay of Martyrs outlook. Way, way in the distance. And around the bend. She also noted that if we had stopped there we wouldn't be able to do everything that was planned for the day. Apparently we'd have to stop at one less supermarket. It was beginning of the end for what could have been a lovely relationship between my wife and our befuddled guide.

We stopped by a few more supermarkets and a cafe that admittedly was serving delicious coffee.

Pre-Packaged Photo Opportunity
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We did stop at London Bridge, a remarkable rock formation that used to be an outcropping of land punctuated by arches over the sea. Part of it has collapsed but it is still a fine stop along the way. We stopped at a large blow hole next, though there was nothing blowing. We also parked for a time at Loch Ard Gorge, a fine cluster of dramatic bays, caves, arches and freestanding pillars. We strolled from point to point taking in the reviving sea wind and climbing down into sand dune filled gorges. It was into Loch Ard Gorge that the two survivors of the sinking ship of the same name (coincidence? I think not!) were washed up into in the late 1800s. Without the benefit of the stairs we'd climbed down, they sat at the bottom of the gorge resuscitating themselves with whiskey (the survivors were Irish). We felt the same thirst as we returned to where Foggy waited for us in the bus, grumbling about mysteries unseen.

Finally we reached the Twelve Apostles, Eight free standing pillars of rock that populate the shoreline, towering at great heights over the crashing sea below. This is deservedly the most famous of the Great Ocean Road sights and we spent a good deal of time checking it out from different angles.

After we returned to the bus Foggy the Generous offered to take us back to The Bay of Islands, apparently the demons in her head suggested it would be a good peace offering. She said though that we would sacrifice some of the other sights along the way, but it was our choice. If she had given us the same choice when we were five minutes away we might have jumped at the offer, but being that we were at least a forty five minute drive away, back the way we came, it the glare of the mid-day sun, everyone grumbled that we should probably go on.

We made a few more stops but none that would have been missed if they'd been sacrificed for the return to the Bay of Islands. At one point Foggy cried to no one in-particular, "Please let me die so that this day will be over." And we all feared she was going to take us over a cliff. Instead we stopped by a few more supermarkets and a cafe that admittedly was serving delicious Illy coffee.

The final stop of the tour was the sign that announced the entrance to the Great Ocean Road. The tour bus pulled along side several other identical ones, where identical backpackers shuffled out to take identical pictures next to the statues of the men who built the great road. I overheard a comment from a young woman pertaining to packaged tours and packaged experiences. I disagreed. I would bet money that no one else's tour guide had publicly announced her impending suicide.

When we finally arrived in Melbourne we said goodbye to our fellow tourists (for a few days we'd been demoted to tourists, not travelers) and wished Foggy and her imaginary head friends good luck. We boarded a tram to St. Kilda, where our real friends Bojana and Gary awaited us with an open door and a warm dry place to shelter ourselves.