Day 41 - Monday at Wye.

When we got ourselves organised, and it didn’t take long because we still had no power from last nights thunder storms we decided to go into Apollo Bay for breakfast.

It was a grey old morning and not really the sort of weather that would encourage a drive in the country. Decisions, decisions. We’d get something to eat first.

I don’t know about you lot, but I don’t really function in the morning until that first cup of hot coffee goes down my neck.
It’s probably better than the first pint after days golf on a hot summers day. I’m saying probably because it’s been that long since I’ve had the sun on my clubs, it’s like trying to remember the first, or in my case the last time you had your end away.

Breakfast was really good. I’d eggs Benedict, a dish that Margaret hasn’t perfected yet! And she had scrambled eggs on toast, both with delicious coffee. We chose the Great Ocean Road Deli and Restaurant, all shiny and smartly modern looking, because it was the first restaurant as you come in from the east. Anyway, I was starving.

Like nomads, we’d nothing planned so we set off west. Port Fairy, originally named Portaferry, but changed for whatever reason, was to be our destination.

A bit optimistic really since it was 200 kms up the road and some of those very twisty coast roads.
Still.
Our first bit of nosiness was Otway National Forest. This had featured a lot in my homework on the region. It’s enormous, and this entrance drew us like squirrels. We drove for about 12 kms on gravel roads that were still damp from yesterdays storm. By the time we got back out onto tarmac the wee black Nissan had the colouring of a badger! It was pleasant enough driving through the rain forest. Here and there w saw bits of wildlife, a roo bouncing across the road right in front of us, hosts of different birds including Rosellas Blue Wrens Parrots, Koalas, but there was very little bird song in the air.

We came across a waterfall; Hopetoun Falls. It was spectacular, again because of all the rain yesterday. We had to negotiate over two hundred steps, at this stage we weren’t into counting them, unlike later on in the trip, a tad exhausting but well worth it. Funny isn’t it, the way you go down steep steps quicker than you go back up.

Onwards to the Twelve Apostles, a very beautiful area, with loads of tourists, and heliflights by the dozen. We decided against the aerial views instead taking the walking routes instead. There is a link to this place here, as it merits a more detailed description than I can offer.
There is one constant in this fair land. No matter where you go, where you roam, you will always without exception be accompanied by several Orientals. It’s a bit like living in a Chinese restaurant. You may not always see Caucasians but you’ll always find a wee chinky!

Delicious.
There were two of us, obviously, on this trip. And sometimes one of these people says something but mean something else. This was one of those days.

Port Fairy was going to be a long drive, especially as we stopped every time something interesting loomed up.
Instead of the 200 kms drive, it was shortened drastically at 60 because one of us was getting tired.
We’d arrived at Port Campbell, a pretty in a postcard way fishing village. It was hot. We were thirsty. We called in somewhere for a beer. Not much happened in this village, we discovered this as the locals scrutinised us from their vantage point at the village hotel / bar. It felt as though we were invading their space, so we turned around and started the drive back to Wye River.

“Never mind” I thought. It can only improve.

Nicola and Trevor had mentioned a restaurant beside Apollo Bay. They had eaten in it previously and found it to be very good. We found it as well and decided to eat out tonight. Chris’s Restaurant is run by, wait, if you follow the link it will explain all. Chris turned out to be every bit as pleasant as the web site says. The food, while not Michelin starred was every bit as good as Nicola had said. It’s best to book this place and ask for a window seat. Trust me, if we were back there I would.

Having left Chris’s and drank two drinks only we were heading back to base. A couple of cold beers and the winter Olympics awaited. We knew the beer would be cold because the lights were on in the houses a we drove past them.

Oh I forgot. On one of the more twistier sections of the road home I nearly ran over a Wallaby. It was munching on the grass verge, but leapt into a bush as we passed it about a metre away.

All day with nothing to do but drive around exploring. Finding interesting sites to store away in the memory larder. Something to feast on when back at home on a cold winter night.
Tonight was not winter, not cold, but having enjoyed my nightcap, the bed called out to me, “Nicky, put that friggin pen down and get in here”.

I did.