Road trip Finale – Melbourne

I am currently watching an interview of Christopher Hitchens from 1993 on YouTube and in order for it to download (or ‘stream’) in as short a time as possible I can’t visit any other sites, including this one. So I’m writing this in Word - testament to the sluggishness of our “broadband” connection. It’s been a while since this trip actually happened now, which is testament to the sluggishness of my diary writing...

We stayed at a huge, revolting hostel in Melbourne the night of our arrival. The owners, no doubt too busy rolling around joyfully in a big vault of money, had allowed it to become a wretched and filthy place. We were dealt with at reception by a guy who clearly modelled his look on Sideshow Bob from the Simpsons. He was nice, but sent us up to a 12-bed dorm which I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies.

Stephen and I, after deliberating on where to put the car for an hour, had a night out in Melbourne. After a few drinks in different places around the city we ended up in the bar attached to the hostel and endeavoured to make the owners even richer than they were already.

The next day we drove into the Melbourne suburb of Northcote where Pip and Pip live. We played 9 holes with Mr Pip on the Northcote public course and then had a delicious roast kangaroo for dinner when Mrs Pip had returned from work. It was nice to see them both again. I realised quite quickly again what a pair of radical environmentalists they are though. The world’s next source of authoritarianism will come from climate change evangelicals if you ask me. It won’t be pretty either – Saloth Sar will probably be their guiding light.

So what is Melbourne like then? Well I was sure at the time that I preferred it to Sydney but now that I look back I’m not so sure. Maybe three nights is just not enough to make a judgement? Sydney is more spread out and prone to dreariness but has markedly more attractive scenery. Melbourne has a more tightly packed central area and more interesting streets and bars. It has more trains and trams and a more “European feel” (I’ve heard this repeatedly – it’s because it has narrow lanes here and there and smaller bars).

Flinders Street, Melbourne

Some church...soo European...

Apparently they're from Erskineville...

...but they have their very own lane in Melbourne

Not all of the trams are this quaint...

Central Melbourne

A grainy shot from the bridge over the Yarra

While we were in Victoria almost 200 people died in some of the most savage bush fires in the history of the state. Local radio stations raised money all day long and it was the topic of conversation with most of the people we spoke to, even in South Australia. On Friday, the day before we were due to fly back, the wind must have changed direction and the Melbourne skies turned murky from the smoke. The sun was so dim you could look at it directly. That evening the moon was orange.

Victoria burning

On Friday we played at a Nick Faldo-designed golf course in a town near Torquay. It was far too new a course to be considered great (not many trees yet) but the greens and bunkers were manicured and pretty dangerous. Once again I screwed up and lost a ball towards the end of the round and then went downhill badly.

(Short) Par 5 first

Our trip was over! All that was left was to go to Avalon airport, which is 50km outside of Melbourne. We had enough time to visit one last beach and one last golf course and, purely out of chance, Werribee was the location of both. I have since found this blog which would have stopped us from going anywhere near the place. As it turns out the golf course was alright, but the beach abysmal.

Road trip - The road to Melbourne

We spontaneously decided that it would be good to go in a helicopter the morning we woke up in Port Campbell; neither of us had been in one and we could have a good look at the remaining apostles.

Our ride...

It was a pretty spectacular experience (and price tag). They are really smooth machines and look fairly easy to fly. When we left the airfield later in the car it took us quite a while to go as far as we had in the chopper in a couple of minutes, so they are deceptively fast too. I thought I would have problems taking photos through the windows, and I did.

Apostles

The GOR at its most iconic

Tourist centre...supposed to look like a cuttle fish or something

So on we went along the GOR, which got prettier as we drove. We drove past vast areas which looked like the playgrounds of rich urbanites with futuristic looking houses lining the sea. Some were even on stilts! Bastard rich people.

Holiday homes of the wealthy Melbournites

Both of us were quite disappointed that we missed the turn off to a ‘tree walk’ in the forest. We arrived in Lorne and the pictures of it in the information centre looked pretty impressive. We learnt, however, that it wasn’t too late to go see a water fall and also play nine holes of golf. The waterfall was shit but the golf course was quite interesting. As usual a triple drop scuppered my round.

Not Victoria Falls...

1st and 10th hole. Par 5. 9 iron second.

We saw an echidna on the steep drive up to the golf course. It wrapped itself up into a tight little spiky ball when we got out of the car to examine it.

So we left Lorne after our game of golf. We thought it would be great to stay at the legendry Bells Beach and so Torquay (closest town to Bells and Jan Juc beaches) was our next stop. We decided that with hindsight we would have stayed at Lorne because we were both pretty unimpressed with Torquay. By the time we got there it was pretty cold and no good for swimming. The cold weather had arrived even when we were in Mount Gambia. We were both incredulous that we needed jerseys when day before we were sweltering in 45 degree heat.

A frigid day at Jan Juc

We soon realised that Torquay was pretty dead. Stephen went in to investigate the only hostel and reported that it was full of old people moping around the kitchen. We decided carry on to Geelong which was also rejected after a few minutes looking around. (Prince Charles went to school there I learned a few days after being there, now I can’t separate the image of the boring old git from the boring city.)

But now, on Wednesday evening, we were driving past Avalon airport (where we would depart from on Saturday) on our way to the capital of Victoria.

Final stretch

Road trip, Part 3

We set off from Mount Gambier on Tuesday morning and forgot to go have a look at the volcanic lake that makes MG famous. We headed south into a hilly landscape known as the Lower Glenelg National Park. We had occasional glimpses of the sea after the road curved into a south-easterly heading but this was not Great Ocean road proper – it began at Portland, according to our map. The Glenelg is a big man made forest for logging, or so it appears from the road. Large swathes of field were empty of everything except for mangled roots or the odd horizontal tree trunk. Other fields had exact lines of small pines stretching into the distance. Not what I thought it would be after looking at the map, but at least we saw a group of emus (a flock?).

We sped onto the GOR with little fanfare and hurtled past an area good for whale watching. It was now that I would realise Stephen’s failed ambition to be a rally driver didn’t prevent him trying to emulate his heroes on picturesque tourist routes. And so the few days we spent driving on the GOR ended up being quite tortuous, despite the immaculate beauty of the place.

But I can’t complain about it because I could have told him to slow down. He would have listened, I’m sure, but then there would have been an understanding lingering in the air that I had somehow deprived him of something precious. I said to him in the Grampians, “God, Stephen are you in a hurry?” and he looked at me, almost hurt, and said “just having some fun”. I’m sure he was having fun but it’s fucking irritating for the passenger.

So anyway the upside to various levels of G being inflicted on you is less road time and more golf. We travelled the 170km from MG to Port Fairy in no time at all and then played at a fantastic links course. The best I’ve played in my life, I’ll hazard.

2nd, I think. Some chips would bend in the wind

Beautiful par 5 on the back nine

Played very well, but not throughout the whole 18, and this seems to be my problem. Inconsistency and lack of concentration seem to prevent me from shooting the odd 75. Of course, practice could probably solve at least one of those problems.

It was probably late afternoon when we carried on our trip along the GOR, this time on route to Port Campbell. This is the part of the journey most famous for its natural beauty.

Some place I forget the name of...

I think this beach was next to London Bridge

London Bridge. The arch on the left broke in about 1990

Port Campbell is a miniscule place which survives purely on tourism. You would probably call it the gateway to the Twelve Apostles, if you were some kind of travel agent. So apart from these “apostles” (of which there are only eight remaining) PC is rather dry: a pub, a few restaurants, a couple of hostels and a campsite.

We decided that we would both quite like some seafood that evening so we went to a seafood restaurant but they didn’t have any fish so we went down the road to a normal restaurant and got a seafood basket each. We had a few glasses of wine and then went down to the pub and played pool for a few hours. Ho hum. A few locals were saying how quiet it was.

The bar closed and we went back to the eerily quiet hostel, both wanting another drink. We were despondently wondering towards the dorm when a Scottish man came down the passage way and said to us “are yous after a drink?” It turned out he was completely bored out of his tree and had been waiting around for someone / anyone to come in and join him for a couple of beers. Ahh, Port Campbell.

Road Trip part 2

Adelaide is small and made of grids. It didn't make much of an impression on me. St H and I met up with a guy called DS, who is an Englishman who is working for an engineering firm in the city. St H and DS's brother are good friends in the UK. DS took us to an Asian food hall and to the beach and also to a pub where I ate some kangaroo, in that order.

We all played golf (course no. 2) at Bel Air GC up in the hills that surround Adelaide. Pretty average course, very average score (80 on a par 70, despite an excellent eagle on 15th). Strangely enough I took only two photos of Adelaide and they were both of the same thing. So here is a dreary picture of Adelaide from Bel Air road:

Nice gum trees

We ducked out of Suzie's backpackers on Monday morning to begin our trip back through SA towards Melbourne. We wouldn't go back the same way we came of course. No, this time we would driving a lot closer to the coast and would eventually meet up with the famous Great Ocean Road in Victoria.

This map shows the drive we did on the first day: Adelaide to Mount Gambier.

South East South Australia. Adelaide to Mount Gambia via Salt Creek.

The first part of our trip saw us passing the beautiful Coorong National Park. With hindsight, I would have liked to explore it a bit more or even stayed there but St H seemed quite eager to get to the more famous Victorian leg of the trip. Maybe one day I'll go back. The Our first stop was at Salt Creek where I took this photo:

I think the sea was on the other side of that little hill in the distance

Coorong is a long lake separated from the sea by a really narrow stretch of land. The lake leaves these white areas, a bit like everyone knows from the salt lakes in the US. We had breakfast at Salt Creek. The guy who served me a pie had been to Zimbabwe and remembered Matopos and Vic Falls.

Our next stop was a place called Kingston SE which happened to have a rather embarrassing landmark:

Eh?

We didn't hang around much longer in Kingston SE, despite their magnificent lobster (it was for sale, incidentally).

Australia has many giant things apparently (although the lobster is the first I've seen). It's in their "culture" apparently to make big things. They have prawns and Captain Cooks and crocodiles and pies and pineapples that are all overgrown replicas of their actualities. I don't think I'm quite ready to make a cultural evaluation of these parts, but I believe that this habit of making monstrosities would factor into it if I was. What I know so far is that this country is most certainly a European (if not English) outpost supplanted on an alien country. Everyone knows that, I suppose. There are definitely peculiarities though, which would be worth pinning down, but I'm incapable of doing them justice. Maybe soon, eh?

I think we sped past Robe and onto Millicent. Millicent will live on in my memory despite its paltry population. Less than 1,500 apparently. It has a phenomenal golf course. The best course we played on, arguably. Beautiful surrounds, lightning greens and a wicked layout. It was mentioned in some SA pamphlet as being in the top 100 Oz rural golf courses and I doubt that is in any way exaggerated. Marvellous. And difficult. I don't think I counted my score. There is an airfield near by so when I am in less pressing financial times maybe I'll fly down for a game.

Millicent, Magnificent

Mount Gambier was our eventual goal that day - we didn't expect to end up in a gaol. But we did. A hostel in MG had been converted from a gaol a few years back and the owners had had the sense to leave it exactly as it was. Or perhaps that was one of requirements of the sellers?*

Razor wire and iron doors remain at this hostel...

Novelty.

The 'warden' was most amiable though. He had a most relaxed demeanour about him. He told us that the llamas were quite grouchy, though.

More aliens in Australia

St H and I went out in MG to find ten pin bowling that we had had heard advertised on radio. It was after nine and the place was like a ghost town. Everything was closed except the pub (hotel) and so we had a couple of beers and listened to a couple of the locals talk about the ferocity of the Victoria bush fires.

In the morning we left the town and we forgot to have a look at the town's volcanic lake, which I quite regret.

* I met a guy in the morning at the jailhouse / hostel who was actually being held there by the South Australian State while they found "approved housing". He had just come out of real jail. He told me that he was likely to be in the hostel / jailhouse for at least four months. He also told me that he was reformed.

Road Trip part 1

St H and I flew to Melbourne on Thursday the 5th of February. Our plan was to drive to Adelaide and back and catch some of the highlights in between. It was a pretty varied holiday but with lots of golf. Eight golf courses we played, I believe.

We arrived in Melbourne airport at around four in the afternoon. It's so dry in Victoria. A world away from NSW. After a Hertz cock up we were given a much nicer car than we paid for and off we drove towards the Grampians National Park. After a brief drive on the ring road we were driving through dry plains that reminded me of Somabula. It didn't take us long before we were in the Grampians and heading for the largest town in the park, Halls Gap.

The aptly named Halls Gap with Bellfield Lake behind

The picture above was taken the day after we arrived, on the way out of the park. We had to drive up a windy, narrow road to get to this look out point. This is when I realised St H's love for speed: the more precarious the road the better too. My camera has a smudge on the top left side of the lens, which I only noticed and cleaned later that day.

I saw my first kangaroo in the Grampians. There are hundreds of the little critters there. I managed to walk right up to one in near a restaurant in Halls Gap. The photo still turned out pretty badly so I won't post it here. We both decided that it would be nice to camp by a lake and so headed off out of town, carrying on in the direction that we came in. We found Bellfield, which is in the picture above, but decided it wasn't that nice. It looked like it was recently made for drinking water purposes and not very suitable for swimming. It was dusk now and on our way back to HG we were suddenly made aware of what a dangerous time that is to be driving around:

Do not pass go...

I was looking at the map at the time and got an awful fright. Probably less of fright, to be fair, than little Skippy got. Lucky he / she was little though because the only damage done was to the number plate.

Hitting the roo accelerated our desire to find somewhere to stay and so we chanced upon Tim's place which turned out to be a nice little backpackers 600m outside of HG. We chose to stay in a two-man tent that Tim had up permanently. That evening we dined out in the town, bought a bottle of bourbon from the local pub and got a bit drunk at Tim's.

The next day we played a volunteer-maintained course in the national park. Dry. Reminded me of playing in Gweru during the drought. It was a place fit for 'roos and flies and there were loads of both. I seem to remember shooting 40, and unfortunately I didn't take any photos. We then drove up to the look out point where that first photo is taken from, took a scenic drive through a forest (and saw an emu) and finally had a swim in a lake.

Both of us were keen to see some of this famous Australian desert and it seemed like a particularly convenient time to do it too, since we were heading towards a string of national parks with the word 'desert' somewhere in their name.

Red dots trace our approximate route

We decided to head to Ngarkat Conservation Park, which we assumed must be desert too. We passed through Horsham which struck me a being a rather pointless place. A bit nasty I suppose, but it was lacking in any kind of charm: low rise, arranged in a grid, modern and fucking hot. My most memorable thought was "why build a town here?" According to Wikipedia it has a population of under 15,000 and is the most conservative seat in its county. Anyway it was nice to experience the rural Australian town even though I would rather not live there (or even visit again).

Driving along the stretch of highway that enters South Australia there is a smattering of small towns - all of them gone in seconds. Otherwise, emptiness. Empty plains for miles. Nice cloud formations met us on the horizon, as if we were approaching the end of the earth.

Would you build a town here?

We stopped at Border Town (birth place of PM Bob Hawke) and bought a cheap cooler bag and a couple of bottles of booze and headed north towards Ngarkat watching the scenary in expectation of parched, arid land. It never really happened. Ngarkat is semi-arid at best. It is beautiful though and if it didn't have a ridiculous number of flies would actually be a nice place. As it is, it's intolerable. Not fit for humans. Or at least humans without bee-keeping suits. Fortunately the flies go somewhere as soon as the sun sets. Where, we wondered? Ultimately we were content that they were gone. The little fuckers.

Preventative measures. Not ideal for having a fag, however.

We took a walk, designed to show you all the flora of Ngarkat, but didn't find ourselves stopping to admire much. The thought did cross my mind: how did Aborigines survive here? Fuck knows, but if I were them I would have been mighty pleased that the honkies brought things called 'houses' with them.

Land of the flies

We spent the last two agonising hours of sun light finding firewood and drinking shots of tequila. And then they were gone. Just like that. And mosquitos weren't there to replace them either. Just peace and quiet in the middle of Ngarkat.

It's a bit deserty...

After a fit of drinking out of sheer relief and a fire that did us proud we collapsed in the tent, but only after I forgot to zip it up properly. In the morning our little friends were back in force and St H confessed that he was tempted to bludgen me to death and leave me for the flies. Fair enough, I thought.

It didn't take us long to leave and when we did, at around 9:30 the cars thermometer recorded 29 degrees. By the time we got to Keith it was 45. Incredible heat.

We arrived in Adelaide at around lunch time. I wasn't feeling very healthy.