Day 21 - To Upside the Down

This should really be called The Last Post because that's what it is but on our travels we met Michel and Narija and she came up with the expression to describe their odyssey Down Under and I couldn't leave my blog of this wonderful trip without including it somewhere. 

Our last morning in Flinders starts  with a run along the beach and breakfast. Then, because the weather forecast is not great for today, we pack our bags and hit the road. Melbourne takes about an hour and a quarter and once we're in the city, the difficulty of finding a parking space - even on a Sunday - is all too apparent. For starters, it's Chinese New Year and the streets are thronging. Anyway our plan is to go to the Immigration Museum which is an eye-opener in terms of the huge numbers of people and races absorbed into the Australian nation over just a few generations. No wonder everyone we meet here wants to tell us where they originated from! 

Melbourne is hot and sticky with the promise of rain in the air and after lunch we decide that the air-conditioned airport is a better option than walking the humid streets being jostled by the crowds. So as I write we are sitting in the airport lounge with an hour or so to wait for our flight to Doha. 

This has been an extraordinary trip. Truly a holiday of a lifetime, brilliantly planned by my very special better half. We have visited friends in Sydney, tasted amazing food and wine in Adelaide and the Barossa Valley, watched superlative tennis at the best tennis venue in the world in Melbourne, run with kangaroos in the Grampian Highlands, driven the Great Ocean Road, done a treetop walk in the Otway National Park, watched the Parade of the Little Penguins on Phillip Island and relaxed on the beach in Flinders. We've flown thousands of miles, driven hundreds and even done a few by boat. We've seen kangaroos, koalas, bandicoots, wombats, wallabies, seals, kookaburras, cockatoos, parakeets, penguins and had the car well and truly poo-ed on by a pelican. We've tasted at some wonderful wineries and, in my case, a little knowledge may well turn out to be a dangerous thing! I'm sniffing and tasting like Jilly Goolden! We've eaten superb food and discovered that in Australia the quality of fresh ingredients is exceptional. We've stayed in the best hotel in Melbourne (the Langham is absolutely top) and in b&bs without television, let alone wifi. And every day has been an adventure. One day we'll be back! 

Day 20 - A Birthday and a Half!

So we're the other side of the world and eleven hours ahead of Blighty so my birthday starts earlier than usual. I've been longing to run for the last few days (getting weirder by the minute, obviously) but the gigantic mozzie bites on my feet swell up if I even show them my trainers! But today they are better and whilst Big Foot lies in bed, I am off pounding my way (well, jogging and gasping for breath in the heat) round the road that circles the golf links and runs between the hackers and whackers and the sea. Spectacular views.

Then breakfast and card opening (thank you, children with forethought) and then we head to Red Hill Market which is a huge charity market over about 15 acres full of crafts and foodie stuff. The perfect place to buy today's gourmet picnic. Then off to Shoreham beach which we had scoped out a couple of days ago. Definitely our best beach yet and although it is a sunny Saturday there's plenty of room for everyone. Swimming and walking along the beach looking for shells and watching for dolphins - not making an appearance again! The absolute perfect way to spend my midwinter birthday.

By the time we get back and are changed ready for dinner, Yorkshire is waking up and lots of nice messages are winging my way - thank you! And a phone call from Mike and Rosie who are still on their way to Perth in their van. Brave folks, I'm too much of a comfort-lover to be up for that. Dinner was at Cook and Norman again and it was delicious and for once we are not holding back and have all three courses. Back to the Flinders Hotel for our last night. Flying home tomorrow.

Day 19 - Picnic on the Beach in February?

it's a perfect morning. The weather here is mid-twenties, maybe a bit more, there's a constant breeze and this is the playground for Melbourne's well-off and well-heeled, though we're not at the top end of Mornington Peninsula where the big Aussie dollars play at Sorrento and Portsea.

After another eggy breakfast of the highest standard (diets for us both when we get back) we set off to explore the area via the General Store to stock up on delicious treats for lunch on the beach later. Then off on our voyage of exploration - it's amazing! after nearly three weeks it still gives me a tremendous buzz to drive off we don't know where! The where turns out to be Ten Minutes by Tractor, a winery whose name has charmed Big Foot (actually much better and rather smaller foot now, thank goodness!) for months ever since we started planning this trip. He says we needn't stop, but I urge him to, knowing that in the fullness of time, when we have returned he will mention that we passed it but didn't stop  - or worse, that I wouldn't let him stop!

The operation is very slick and we are charged for a tasting, not much but enough. The best tasting we did apart from the VIP one at Penfolds was at Tscharke and that was totally free. The lady running the tasting is American and had been the sommelier at Heston's in Melbourne. She is very knowledgable but they are better known for their Chardonnay and it's not my bag so not sure she is impressed when I don't want to try it.

Anyway back on the road and we head to Somers beach where allegedly you can swim with dolphins. We have a lovely afternoon on the beach with our gourmet picnic and lots of swims in the sea but the dolphins weren't playing so as the heat of the sun starts to wane we make our way back to Flinders in time for a busy Friday night Aussie dinner in the pub. Children everywhere, lots of young folks drinking jugs of ale and delicious mussels for me. Then a stagger home to bed. My last day as a sixty year old - not bad!

Day 18 - Last Port of Call

Waking up after an itchy night with some of the worst mozzie bites ever, Madeline of Glen Isla instructs me to rub banana skin on the bites before we dive into the pharmacy for deet-laden remedies. Pills, spray, ointment - I take everything. Madeline has kindly delivered us into town ready for the ferry across to Stoney Point where the pelican-pooed car is parked. 

On the ferry, the sea is a perfect blue with scudding clouds and a strong breeze. No sign of dolphins yet...

Rather than driving straight to Flinders we call into Merrick General Store which is a foodie paradise. We're going to have a picnic on the beach and this place kicks Weetons totally into touch. We choose crispy fresh baguette, with local cheese and pate, two sorts of cake - because we can't agree - and delicious, utterly delicious freeze-dried strawberries dipped in chocolate. Then we taste a couple of rose varieties before choosing the local one and of course, they find us glasses and cutlery to go. 

The beach at Merrick is narrow and windy with rather too many weeds for swimming but lovely to sit in the sand and savour our fab picnic with only the occasional walker passing by. This is the ultimate Thursday-in-February lunch! Then back to Flinders via a beach or two. Everywhere is very quiet. The season, as such, finished on Sunday and the beaches are deserted and a lot of the cafes and shops are shut. But the weather is the best we've had on this trip. Mid-twenties with a breeze. We check in at Flinders Hotel - nice room with a patio (we have been upgraded apparently) and sort out our stuff which has been crammed into various suitcases and there's a little washing to do to get us through to the end of the trip. 

After a walk to the cliff where we see an amazing array of very confident birds including cockatoos and parakeets, we walk up the hill, past the closed shops and cafes to Cook and Norman Trattoria. We have a main course each and share a pudding and the food is sublime. We wash it down with Shiraz and Pinot and ...oh dear...grappa. But it's a softer one than normal and quite lemony. Nice. No hangover. 

Day 17 - P...p...p.. Pick up a Penguin!

The one possible advantage to being at Oakdene was that in the morning we wake up still cross and waste no time in getting ready to leave. There's no one here so we leave the building unlocked as instructed and set out a good half an hour ahead of schedule to the ferry at Queenscliffe. As luck would have it, we arrive five minutes before the 8.00am car ferry leaves for Sorrento on the Mornington Peninsula and despite being booked on the 9.00am, they are only too happy for us to drive on and be on our way. This is advantageous as we want to drop our big bags off at Flinders before we head to Stoney Point for the passenger ferry to Phillip Island.

It's a relief not to be travelling by car and as we wait for the ferry to Phillip Island we spot enormous pelicans perched high above us on the telegraph poles. They left a present for us on the bonnet of the car which we found when we returned the next day - a big present!

The ferry takes us across clear, blue waters via French Island to Phillip Island where everywhere seems to have borrowed its name from the Isle of Wight. Today's or rather tonight's big highlight is the parade of the little penguins at Summerland beach so we carb up in a local pizza/pasta joint before checking in at our b&b, Glen Isle at Cowes. This came highly recommended by Susan and Degsy and as well as being a polished operation, Ian and Madeline were delightful and friendly hosts. Madeline immediately offered to drive us to the penguin event and thoughtfully left us a plate of cheese and biscuits in case we were p...p...p...peckish on our return.

Before we start the main event there's a lovely beach to walk on with a large and sleepy seal to chat to. Surprisingly canine features up close - reminds me of Milton. Unbeknownst to me though, I am being made a meal of by mozzies and come back with about eight absolute belters which itch like mad. Trip to the pharmacy in the morning then.

If we thought we had left the Asian population behind on the Great Ocean Road, we were wrong and I am now confident that the streets of Beijing are completely empty because they are all here. Big Foot has booked the VIP tour which is worthwhile and full of information as well as getting the best vantage point. Also I might have caused a diplomatic incident if we were packed in tight with folks who despite the wardens' requests, persist in using their cameras with flash which confuses the little penguins.

As the light fades, thousands of little penguins, or fairy penguins as they are sometimes known, throw themselves on to the beach amongst the rocks and breaking surf, right themselves and waddle in small or large groups (but never alone) for a few paces, before stopping and regrouping and setting off again. They are making for their burrow holes in the dirt of the dunes where their chicks will be waiting for them to regurgitate whatever they have consumed during the day whilst in the sea. Sometimes they walk - well, waddle really - in a quite upright way but at other times, they get their heads down and barge their way through like front row forwards! The parade of penguins is a unique and amazing sight and Australia's second most popular natural attraction after Uluru or Ayres Rock.

Day 16 - Locked Out!

Well, there was bound to be drama at some point, apart from Bertie's Big Foot, and this is the day. Actually it was enough drama for me so fingers crossed, that's it!  But first, the good stuff...

We wake up to a stunning view across the fields and cliffs to the sea at our b&b at the Twelve Apostles and after the breakfast of champions, we hug Robyn goodbye and drive straight (or as straight as the windy road allows) to Otway National Park and The Fly. Named the Fly after the zip wiring which we are not doing (tempted but thought I might do a David Brayshaw) but also famous for the Treetop Walk. We get there impressively early and we have the whole forest to ourselves. I had read about this in the Daily Telegraph - thank you, John O'K - and it certainly lives up to its billing. First we walk through the thick vegetation and beneath 100 metre high Mountain Ash along a path until we reach the steel walkway which takes you on a gradual incline over half a mile or so until you are at the bottom of a steep tower but at least 50 metres off the ground. All we can hear is birdsong as we climb the steep steps to the top. This is genuinely a bird's eye view of the forest and still the Mountain Ash tower another 10 metres above us. It will remain one of my high spots (no pun intended) of this extraordinary trip. I'm definitely going to try my hand at growing a tree fern or two in my garden.

Back down to earth and back on the road but we're skipping a bit of the tourist trail to call in at Hopetoun Falls and then take the Binns Road through the forest for 20k of dirt track and quiet, passing nothing more than the occasional wallaby and spotting rosellas in the trees. Eventually the track leads us back to the Great Ocean Road and the hoards of tourists. Apollo Bay is, as billed, not worth the stop and we press on but now the Ocean Road is as we had imagined it - not high cliffs and sheer drops but beaches and white-tipped waves for as far as the eye can see. Quick sandwich on the beach at Lorne with a dip for my feet in the sea. The weather is up in the twenties after the miserable day yesterday and we get back on the road for what turns out to be a long haul.

When we eventually arrive Bowan Head I'm borderline grumpy but Oakdene where we pull in for our night's stay looks fab. It's a winery with a cellar door, cafe, highly rated restaurant and three eclectic bedrooms. After a bit of a search we find someone who is prepared to let us into our room and she's another Robyn. The room is stunning and full of Marilyn Monroe-themed ephemera. Robyn says we can get a cuppa in the tea rooms and that there is no password for the wifi. She tells us (alarm bells starting to ring at this point) that the restaurant is closed on a Tuesday and we will have eat out, and breakfast is not available until 9.30 so even though we've paid for it, it will be too late for our early ferry. Also nobody will be on the premises but our two keys open the front door and our Marilyn Monroe room. Ok. A little weird but ok. Straight down to the tea room where, despite saying we have been on the road since 8.00 am and it's now 3.05, we are told they closed at 3.00 and shut the door in our faces. Back to the room to make tea where there's a selection of every tea known to man - except English Breakfast. Nooooooo! Back downstairs to the chef who's doing prep in the kitchen and who is the only person I can find and I explain the problem. She's really nice and promises us English tea in the garden and cake because we have been not as warmly welcomed as we should have been. Big Foot asks if I've been stroppy but I have not - just icy calm and therefore at my most dangerous! Also the Robyn said there was no wifi code and the so lovely chef lady got that for us too and tea with spectacular cakes arrive. Happy me! Also happy Big Foot because he does a quick wine tasting at the cellar door and comes back with a couple of nice bottles.

A couple of hours later and our tums require attention (wisely didn't eat all the cake!) so showered and changed and with a nice beachfront restaurant recommended we go downstairs from Marilyn. Our front door key won't work so we go and find a young chap who checks with the aforementioned Robyn who says the front door will be left unlocked for us. OK.

Dinner is delicious with a view across the bay but we're tired with an early start ahead of us so we get back to the winery/b&b just after 8.00pm. The door is locked. The key won't work either in the front door or any of the other doors. Big Foot phones hotel.com and I go searching. Surely someone else lives on this huge estate? Apparently not after a 20 minute search of all the outbuildings, cafe, winery and offices and hotels.com don't have an out of hours/emergency number. And it's getting dark.

Whilst Big Foot hangs on the phone (the hotel/winery number just goes to answerphone) I suggest we try one of the two properties opposite, both of which are down very long drives. The first one has no occupants except a large number of horses and dogs so,we try next door. Down another long drive and I ring the doorbell. There are lights on but nobody is answering. Meanwhile hotels.com suggest booking in somewhere else but all our luggage is in Oakdene and the ferry goes at 9.00am. No good. Then I notice the lights on in the flat above the garage at the house and I bang on the door to be met by an Ian Barker-sized lad in his underpants. Whilst he swiftly puts his shorts on, (relief, because not attractive even to middle aged ladies) I explain the problem and he takes me (and Big Foot) who has given up on the phone into auntie and uncle's kitchen. Luckily Jacky knows someone who knows someone who works at Oakdene and after a tense 45 minutes, Marty of Oakdene agrees to meet us at the stubborn front door with a master key. And finally we are in, with thanks to Jacky and family and scant apology from Marty. Hell on TripAdvisor to follow! Night all...

Day 15 - A Road More or Less Travelled

Bertie thinks I should call this 'the Asian invasion' - you'll see why!

I wake up to the sound of rain - not good and definitely not in the plan. By the time I've made a cuppa and checked that Federer did indeed win (I didn't quite make it to the end), the rain has just about stopped and I can go for a run. I set off along the harbour's edge where the fishing boats are making their way back in with lobster pots, and over to Griffith Island where the lighthouse stands. Once the home to Aborigines, it is now a nature reserve with plenty of bird life and apparently wallabies but I didn't spot any.

Back at The Merijig we have a delicious cooked breakfast and Bertie sends a message to Mike and Rosie, who are due here later in the week, to recommend The Merijig - and they're already here though in a different b&b down the road! So after we've packed up we join them for a quick chat before they set off for Adelaide and we for the Twelve Apostles. See you in Yorkshire! Our paths won't cross again.

We pass through a number of one-horse-towns but before we've gone far the weather has turned properly wet and we decide to stop for lunch at Port Campbell (two-horse perhaps) because there seems to be little point in continuing to try to enjoy the beautiful views along the Great Ocean Road in a sea fret - particularly when you're running the gauntlet of trying to see the view ahead of dozens of Asians with their backs to it!

Even the menu in Forage, which turns out to be a nice organic restaurant, is written in English and Chinese and we are almost the only folk in there, apart from the staff, of non-Asian persuasion. Indeed as we are to discover all day, virtually all the tourists down here are Chinese or Korean.

The road is busy - but perhaps not as busy as it would have been on a sunny day - and we decide to carry on past the Twelve Apostles which has a massive and very full car park - to the Otway National Park. I've read about this place and as well as zip-wiring which I'm not prepared to do and has to be booked in advance, it has a tree top walk which I really fancy. By the time we get from the car park to the visitor centre we are soaked and because I am wearing flip flops (thongs out here - ha ha!) the back of my trousers are pebble-dashed! We buy ponchos! Like carrier bags but bigger!

Anyway, the tree top walk for tomorrow is definitely on - the forest looks stunning with amazing tree ferns that reach 10 feet or so. On our way back to the Great Ocean Road we do a bit of a detour. Following signs that say Moonlight Head, we head off down a little road, that becomes a track (makes our drive at home look good) that becomes increasingly more perilous till 15 minutes later we get to a car park which is almost deserted and, oh joy, it has stopped raining for the first time in about 8 hours! The view is breath-taking and we are alone - result!

Back on the Great Ocean Road, it's six pm and sunny but we were hoping that the Twelve Apostles might be quieter, thinking our fellow tourists might have gone off for chow mein or whatever. No, the place was heaving with 'look at me in front of the Twelve Apostles' Asians cluttering up every
viewing point.  But it is indeed stunning and quite rightly a must-see.

Then it's time to make our way to our hostess for the night, Robyn, whose b&b is just a few kilometres from the Twelve Apostles and is called The Secret Place. It's quirky and Robyn herself is absolutely charming. She and Bertie could have chatted all evening but we need to eat and she wants us to see Loch Ard Gorge and Mutton Bird Island. She's right, of course, because half an hour before sunset the cliffs are lit up with light and the waves crash against the rocks. This is called The Wrecking Coast because so many ships were lost here and the story of the Loch Ard is a poignant  one. In June 1878, the clipper, the Loch Ard from England was approaching her destination of Melbourne with 54 souls on board including Dr Carmichael and his family. Celebrating nearing the end of their long voyage, the crew failed to notice the rocks and the ship went down with only 15 year old Tom Pearce, the cabin boy who swam ashore and 17 year old Eva Carmichael who clung to the wreckage until Tom swam out to rescue her, surviving. There is a cemetery above the Gorge where the bodies washed up from the wreck were buried and we visit their graves.

Then a quick supper in Port Campbell before bed. Fingers crossed that the rain has gone now and tomorrow will be sunny.