The Great Road Trip

On Saturday 12^th February, Rob and I set off dreary and hung-over from the night before to Williamstown station in the North of the city to pick up our backpacker customized Toyota Previa- our home for the next ten days. We drove back to Murray street packed up, took some pictures, said our last goodbyes to the Gean Gens and drove off that evening through Melbourne centre and South through the open country to Torquay- the official start of the Natural Wonder that is the Great Ocean Road. We arrived in at dusk, had some pizza in the small town centre and slept up in an empty car park by the beach. It wasn’t the most glamorous location, but it was free, and would set the tone for the next 10 days on the road. For me the sleep was deep and continous, though my snoring kept Robert awake for most of the night, again something which would be common over the trip.

 

In the morning we took a shower at some beach toilets, visited the local information centre, had a McDonalds and set off along the Great Ocean Road. The road took us four days to complete, being 243 Kilometers long, with coastline that gets more spectacular and fantastic with every twist and turn. We slept in free campsites along the great ocean road and throughout most of the trip. They were basic sites, nearly always located in forests and woodlands just meters from the coast and teeming with wildlife, from the spectacular- butterflies, wallabies, kangaroos and dragonflies to the purely irritating- giant red ants, flies the size of bumble-bees and of course countless mosquitos. The sites often required a bumpy tense drive up gravel dirt and sand tracks littered with potholes, proper camping as my dad would say. Most had toilets, aluminum walls with a hole in the ground. None, bar one had showers, so most mornings we would attempt to find free showers in the vicinity. Along the great ocean road, most beaches had outside standing showers, though in the latter stages we ended up going to the depths of freeloading off other campsites. The reason for this was of course in the name of economy and efficiency- considering the car had been a pricey rent extra costs were unnecessary to incur. During the day we then drove along the road, admiring the coastal views, and stopping regularly at the large number of sites pointed out to us by the very helpful information centre staff. These ranged from long white beaches with strong surfs ( some so strong in fact that swimming was prohibited) occupied mainly by surfers tapping into the at times chilly water of the Antarctic seas, to the stunning golden coves, hidden caves, microharbours and spectacular rock and island formations of the latter stages. We passed through and camped at the small coastal towns, often with the largest having populations of just a few thousand. These towns were all similar in style, sleepy communities economically dependent on the rich pickings the coaches, cars and campervans that drifted through. Between the towns was the road, with the coast on the left and the woodlands and forests on the right.

Some of the more spectacular sights we saw were the twelve apostles- a formation of six rocks abandoned by the sea, the high cliffs and small entrance to the cosy enclave of Lock Ard Gorge where we spent a few hours relaxing in the sea, and the bay of islands. I feel the pictures attached can give a glimpse of the beauty of the road.

I also splashed out on a helicopter ride over Port Campbell, the 12 apostles and London Bridge

The road ended at Warrambol, a town the first town with a proper supermarket we had seen in days. The town was so American- so much so that it was easier to believe you were in the states than Australia. The main highway skirted the city, the outiskirts dominated by an out of town retail centre, with a concrete desert of a car park with large spaces designed for large cars driven by large people. Burger King(its called Hungary Jacks in Oz because there was a Café called Burger King in Sydney which had licensed the name before it) stood, proudly run by teenagers of course, alongside a Kmart and Liquor store. The town was dominated by fast food outlets with one word that stood out- average. Average people living in regular houses in ordinary suburbs. Average kids going to average schools, with ambitions of finding an average home with an average wife. I loved the place, the pinnacle of capitalism- the symbol of human domination over nature. Ignorance must be blissful. The town felt like one of millions. 

We left the great ocean road behind and headed into the scrubland north to the Grampians national park. This was a detour from the original plan which had been to go to Adelaide, though everybody seemed bemused as to why we would go there, citing it as boring. We had heard great things about the Grampians so changed our route.

The early part in the Grampians was probably the low of the trip. We arrived and ended up having to top up on drinking water by asking in the information centre- its amazingly hard to come across-most places simply wont give it out and a bottle in the small shops we had come across will set you back several pounds. After a fairly good walk up Mount Muddleford, the highlight being the streams of butterflies that appeared from the trees as we walked up, we could only find a layby as the place to set up base in the dreary town of Dunkeld. We showered quickly at a local campsite, before heading off to the lay by and cooking some pasta by the side of the road. We were both grumpy after a tiring day, and then when cooking some pasta with sausages using the gas cookers provided with the car got ambushed by a horde of mosquitos (the next day I counted 23 bites on my two feet alone, not to mention my arms, legs, behind- everywhere). In the night lorries streamed passed and some hoons drove into the lay by lights on and blared out their horns- it was not fun. However a hero on a bike told us there were showers in the local information centre which were free to use- the shower, which was superb changed our morale instantly.

The next day we drove up to Halls Gap-the northern town in the park where we walked up… and saw some of the fantastic scenery the park is famed for. The drive takes you right through the centre of the park and supposedly provides spectacular views, however recent flooding in Victoria meant the road, and some walks were closed so unfortunately we had to detour around the outside of the park- even on this route fields either side of the car were flooded . We walked 6.6 km Boronia Peak through the lower forests which teemed with kangaroos. The top offered spectacular views of the small town, which itself was far more interesting and developed for tourism than Dunkeld. Another dirt track and free campsite later we were on the road- this one with an interesting bucket shower.

 

Our final leg of the roadtrip took us to the blue mountains, two hours outside of Sydney. The journey there took a full day of driving- 16 hours in total which we shared. Heavy Fog in the Blue Mountains meant we had to pull up half an hour before reaching our objective of Katoomba and pay for a campsite which was in a blessing, as having access to electricity and clean hot showers was a relief. The blue mountains(named because of a blue haze caused by scattering of UV radiation) are used by Sydneysiders as a retreat from the heat of the city, with cooler temperatures at their altitude of ~1000m.

These mountains were far more spectacular than any in the Grampians, though far more developed by tourists (in the Grampians on the first walk we saw nobody, on the second there were only a few people and a tour party). The first day took us on a walk from the major viewpoint in Katoomba down the Giant Stairway which hugs the steep cliffs, then through the Leura forest and back up via the forests of the Federal path. The major attraction here is the rock formation of the three sisters and the views offered across the Jamison valley. The forests are teeming with lizards, we had a shock walking along the path when one the size of a small dog appeared, though it fortunately wondered off.      

   

The penultimate day of walking was fittingly the most spectacular. We drove down to a town called Wentworth and took a walk around the national pass skirting the valley around the grand Wentworth falls. We spent over half an hour in the falls itself, swimming around, taking pictures(often whilst bemused tourists looked on) and chatting to some Aussie tourists on holiday.

 

I have also attached some photos of the Previa to give a better idea of what we stayed in. The van was customised and included a fridge, DVD player, storage areas, and had a detachable tent which could be hung off the roof for sleeping. The car was automatic and easy to drive. Driving in Australia was a doddle. The roads, car parking spaces and crossings are extremely wide, plus compared to Europe there are so few cars on the Roads. Even on the great ocean road, a tourist magnate, there were no traffic jams and often you could drive and see only a handful of cars. Sometimes you would see nothing for hours. The only traffic Jam we encountered on the whole trip was in central Sydney.

After a final night in a free site, we set off to Sydney and short of time, ended up racing to the campervan depot to drop off the Phantom before catching an evening flight to Auckland in New Zealand from where I write this.

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The End of the Beginning

The last few weeks have seen some big changes around Murray Street, once Robert and I have left there will only be three people from the twelve that sat around the table on Christmas day still in the house. We are now in our last days in the house, and have finished working. The last two weeks have been spent catching up with the tourist attractions that we hadn’t got round to. These included Phillip Island, the Melbourne Gaol, the zoo and the Eureka Tower. There was also a mini flood.

The first notable event was the Australian Open. We went to the Open on middle Saturday of the two week event, having booked tickets for the Rod Laver arena a few weeks earlier. Having both worked at Wimbledon, and not seen any other grand slams it was always going to be interesting to see if the Aussies could do it as well as us Pommies(a colloquial phrase for the British,  in reference to our ancestors  skin looking the colour of Pomegranates when arriving in Australian ports- bring that to the pub quiz).

The day was excellent, with fortunately good weather. We arrived just past 11 and the first match had begun, between Vera Zvonereva and Lucie Safarova. However, not being the biggest fans of woman’s tennis and with Andy Murray due to pay in the next match we left after just a few games to see the surrounds. The open had a good feel to the place, not too dissimilar to that of a festival. People sat around and sunbathed in the large Heineken enclosure where there was live music(no one of note played), ate food outside on Garden Square or browsed in the marquees in which the tournament sponsors had been provided with pricey retail space. After a few beers and having taken a some photos we headed to the Rod Laver and saw Murray demolish no 32 Garcia Lopez in straight sets. Lopez was so poor, that the game became a formality for Murray. The next match involved eventual champion Kim Clijsters and was another straight sets victory. After we went and watch some doubles on the outside courts where there were groups of blaring blonde haired Aussies chanting. They just have no idea how to chant, and come across as a bunch of clowns at sporting events- “Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi Oi Oi” is all they say over and over again, and seem to find it hilarious each time- would love to ship them off to a lower league football club deep in Winter. Nonetheless it provided some cringeworthy entertainment. 

 

 

Festival Feel

Compared to Wimbledon the event defiantly didn't feel as formal, with none of the pomp on display at SW19. Also the event feels like it is constructed overnight, the drinking areas, shops, even the cooperate hospitality are all based in marquees. There’s nothing like the chic players area with attached restaurant at Wimbledon, or glass walled restaurants based in centre court. Tickets are checked by teenagers rather than the uniformed serviceman at home (admittedly its an unnecessary waste of taxpayers money but that’s for another day) and everywhere in Melbourne Park there are sponsors. Understandably, some would prefer the Australian open, with spectators turning up for the sport rather than for the Pimms. However for me the feeling of tournament prestige, and completely unique atmosphere of Wimbledon just puts it above the Aussie open. I think it’s why the greats of the game prefer Wimbledon as well. 

On the day itself I felt pretty rough having contracted Viral meningitis in the days previously- this isn’t the fatal type which is bacterial, but it meant I was essentially knocked out for a few days with fever, had to take time away from work and feared I couldn’t go. A few litres of lucozade, a pack of paracetamol and hydration packs sorted that out.

The next trip out occurred the weekend after, when we visited the Old Melbourne Gaol. This has been voted as one of the best tourist experiences in Australia. The Jail was built in the mid 1800's to house prisoners from the overflowing jail on Collins Street. The surviving wing we visited was built towards the end of the century, and based on British Prisons of the time which put an emphasis on prisoner isolation- the idea being that silence and confinement would allow prisoners to reflect on their actions and their lives and reform themselves. The isolation even extended to putting them in face bags for eating and exercising. The policy simply drove them insane. 135 people were hung at the Gaol, including Victoria's most famous criminal, an Irish Outlaw called Ned Kelly(I will leave you to Wikipedia him). At the jail there were actors who re-created the story of his life which enhanced the experience.  

Robert a Melbourne Gaol with our Houemate Alex

The second part of the tour was excellent. A part of the prison was actually used up until 1994(in a completely separate building next door), and so we had the experience of being prisoners. A butch policewoman ordered our large group to line up single file, men in one line and woman in another, and empty our pockets. I was too scared to take any photos at this point. We and what looked like blood smeared on the walls. These were overnight cells for were then locked in pitch black cells in groups of 15. The cells were dirty, with water dripping from the ceiling the rowdy drunks, hobos and ladies of the night.   We were then escorted into the prison yard for some daily exercise. The policewoman’s act then stopped and she showed us some of the padded cells(literally cushions floor to ceiling where they kept prisoners that posed a danger to themselves). In the yard there was graffiti etched into the walls, with messages from prisoners embedded in the stone, mainly from the 80’s and 90’s.

The 2^nd Friday before we left (4^th February) was the day after the cyclone had hit Queensland 1500kms to the north. The spin off created floods even in Melbourne. It rained heavily throughout the day. After work I went out with friends from work though had to get a tram home in as the metro had been knocked out due to flooding in the tunnels. Meanwhile back at 50 Murray, Robert went out to the nearby Chapel Street with people from the house. They ended up swimming in the street. The flooding had receded by the time I returned later on. Fortunately our house wasn’t flooded at all, though people had to put towels by the doors to stop water coming in.  

This week a day was taken out to visit Phillip Island, a tour we booked last week. There were three parts to the day. The first was a stop before Phillip island to visit Moonlit Animal Sanctuary. Here we saw all the Aussie favourites- kangaroos, walalaies which look very similar to kangerros but have no tailbones and koalas. It was nice that you could interact with the animals, excluding the koalas. For a donation you could feed them- ever the keen tourists we took the opportunity. 

The next stop was the beach at cape Woolami on Phillip Island itself. The beach was simply stunning, the water the bluest I’ve ever seen. The current was extremely strong, so much so that life guards set out red and yellow flags to indicate areas in which you could swim and would be saved (outside that area was too dangerous for them).

Following this the coach took us to several viewing points on the Island to view some geographical features before taking us to Cowes(named after the town on the Isle of White) where the group was provided with pizza for dinner. In the evening, around 7 the coach dropped us off to see the penguin parade. Every evening penguins emerge from the sea to rest in burrows formed in the ground just beyond the dunes. We sat at stands built for tourists, and saw penguins emerge from the water in small groups of 3 and 4, though they were far away and difficult to see. Once a fair number had come, we, along with what seemed like the rest of New Malden, moved off the stands, and wandered around wooden walkways behind the beach. From these you could follow the penguins retreat inland and see them up close. Unfortunately you couldn’t take pictures as the flash can blind them. This would normally be the point where your average gap year student would make a failed attempt to describe how seeing this spectacle deeply impacted their life, before making some promise of how they will never look at things in the same way again. I won’t as that would be a lie.

The next ten days will be spent on the road, we moved out of Melbourne on Saturday. I think we both left with mixed feelings, the stability, consistency and routine of a house, plus the individuals we lived with will be things I am sure a few months travelling will make us miss. However there is defiantly excitment about not haveing to work and beginning travelling proper. I feel pleased about the success of the first part of the trip-coming to a new city and a new country and managing to find a job,a house, meeting people both through the house and at work, and getting to add another place alongside Bristol as a city which feels like a home in itself. 

There are phrases which I will not forgot from Murray Street- Paul's lucid language- 'carnage, huuuuge fact,whopper, would ya?', Dimitri's english accent and Get in, Nico's inability to pronounce H properly- many times playing cards he would use the word (h)earts and of courst Putain and Mannon

The trip is now at the end of the beginning.

At the top of the Eureka Tower-Melbournes Tallest Building (297m)

Haircut-Big Responsibility

Happy New Year!

The highlight of the balmy summer days following Christmas was a trip to the MCG (Melbourne Cricket Ground) to watch England v Australia on the 28^th December. The day began at 0600, painting our faces and t-shirts as well as having a few drinks before heading off into town. Everyone was in an excitable mood, and we left the house chanting, on our way to the Celtic Club Irish pub to watch Arsenal v Chelsea prior to the cricket. Amongst the six of us who went from Murray Street were 2 French who turned English for the day. Dimitri, despite being French, would be one of the most passionate on the day.

Early start waiting for the train

Having skipped breakfast at home, rob and I wolfed down some bacon and egg rolls at the pub watered down by a few pints.I had guiness- the first here and it was actually pretty good- I had expected the worst though. We drank beer wrapped in paper on the way to the ground(its illegal to drink on the streets here).

The cricket match itself wasn’t that great on the day, with the large radius of the MCG pitch giving a poor view of the ball. We were however on the bottom stand of the 100000 capacity ground, and the weather was perfect for the event. Only the English fans were singing (the score probably helped that) though the small size of the barmy army meant that they couldn’t be heard. The odd chant of “aussie aussie aussie oi oi oi” mumbled out of the stadium but the aussie fans were quiet. We sat and drank steadily, unfortunately you couldn’t bring your £4.50 plastic schooner (3/4 of a pint) of beer into the stands so had to stay at the bar. A fair bit of time was spent drinking at the bar as a result.



Beer in disguise



The Frenchies Nico and Dimitri on the left with Paul on the right 

Is that a plastic football fan?- I think so

 For new years everybody went into the centre of the city to a bar called section 8, which our housemate frequents. The bar was outside down an alley near chinatown with a ‘street’ feel, playing a range of hip hop and alternative music. It had just the right number of people fortunately not being packed out as with many venues in the city on new years. Before mignight Robert and I went to the fireworks a 20 min walk away on the bridge over the yarra river, next to federation square(the others weren’t interested which we thought was odd). The fireworks were spectacular, being set off from the roofs of the surrounding skyscrapers over the river, though I cant help but think Sydney would have been bigger-we wanted to go but left it late. The area was packed as shown by the photos though you weren’t ever squashed unlike the mare that is London Waterloo. On our return to section 8 the house lot had dispersed, so we stayed for a bit longer till it began winding down. Entry to any clubs and bars on the night was excessive- at least £50 to get in with many places charging £100+.

In the Centre on the way to Section 8

 

We have also moved the trip around a bit. Our flight to Singapore has been changed from the 4^th May to 20^th April, and so we intend to finish work 2 weeks early in mid February. The logic being that this trips purpose is to travel. We intend to leave Melbourne on 12^th February, drive the great ocean road to Adelaide using a campervan, see the city and head to Sydney for our flight to NZ which we have booked for the 21^st February.

I cant really see myself writing much more until that point as I feel I have exhausted much of the city. Plus, over the next two weeks 7 of the 12 people in the house are leaving so the house may well become unfortunately quiet. I am however, very much looking forward to going to the Aussie Open.

I leave you with the following pictures of captain cooks original cottage. The cottage was built by his parents in 1755. It was transported over here using 253 cases and 40 barrels in 1933 from its native ground in Great Ayton, North Yorkshire. The cottage is surrounded by an English garden and is adorned by ivy taken from Yorkshire. It now resides in Fitzroy Gardens, a 15 minute walk from the centre of the city. With the red postbox outside, and the English spring like weather on the day, I felt briefly as if I was back at home in a country village, perhaps in Dorset or somewhere.