Kangaroobie

It seems to me that the most amazing places are not found in guidebooks but by accident and exploration. This adage has proved true many times on our family holidays, when we've frequently found ourselves far away from the tourist hotspots, enjoying the kind of views you never want to leave. And there have also been examples on this trip, such as the stunning cliffs of the Royal National Park near Bundeena, so close to the legions of  backpackers holed up in Sydney, but unvisited by all of them. Yesterday, a run took me to one of these special places.

From Geelong, I took a bus on Wednesday along the Great Ocean Road to my current location close to the Twelve Apostles. The Great Ocean Road hugs the South coast for 150 miles, taking a driver from Melbourne in the direction of Adelaide. The Road is regarded as a 'must' for any traveller to the area. A public bus was admittedly not the best way to enjoy it (that would probably be hiring a campervan and making many stops over several days), but although the journey was a nonstop display of pretty sea views, I didn't wish the bus would stop at every turn so I could take pictures like the literature would have me believe, and I actually thought the coastline didn't hold a candle to that of Cornwall. With a slightly sore neck from so much looking left, I eventually alighted at the Twelve Apostles, a honeypot sight swarming with camera yielding tourists. The Apostles are limestone  stacks eroded by the sea to the extent that only eight remain. They were fairly impressive, but their wonder was of course diminished immeasurably by the crowds and I would have been mightily disappointingly had the purpose of my journey been solely to see them.

My final destination, Kangaroobie, was five minutes away and I will be helping out for a week here. Kangaroobie is a 2,500 acre working beef farm and camp for school kids situated in a beautiful, moorland-esque area with views overlooking a lazily meandering river and out to the sea. It's a tranquil spot completely off the radar of the Twelve Apostles throngs. It was pretty random how I  ended up at Kangaroobie - while staying with the family in Bendigo whom I found through the website helpx, I met a friendly artist while dropping off one of the families' girls at a birthday party. During our brief conversation this man suggested I contact his friend at Kangaroobie about staying and helping there. I sent off an email thinking it was a long shot, but received a positive response and here I am!

The camp is really fun. Shortly after arriving I watched the farm activity and was embarrassed to discover that twelve year olds seem to know more about pigs than I do. Then on Thursday we hiked to the beach, crossing a river by raft en route. The weather was cloudy, windy, and a little chilly, entirely reminiscent of a British seaside day, but that didn't stop a great game of beach cricket breaking out. One youngster was a resolute defender of the ball, fending off a series of hostile deliveries from me with a very straight bat. His stubborn refusal to surrender his wicket and complete lack of interest in hitting any big shots would have restored Geoffrey Boycott's hope in the future of cricket. However, with the clan of fielders surrounding the batsman growing impatient, I finally ruled him out in the interest of the game, despite my bowl stopping in the sand well short of the stumps.

Much to my sweet tooth's delight, the food here is just fantastic. Bits of cake and flapjack, referred to at the camp as 'slices' are temptingly available all day, while my Friday lunch of leftover steak and leftover chocolate pudding will live long in the memory.

However, the food hasn't been the highlight of my first few days at Kangaroobie, as yesterday I went on an 11.5km run that was breathtaking in every sense of the word. After a flat 2km following the river peacefully through the valley, I turned uphill and was buoyed along by the increasing volume of the waves as I neared the cliff top. Upon arrival I was greeted by a majestic sight, that improved further when I jogged over to a rocky cliff top outcrop. Here was a special spot. From left to right was a spectacular vista: cliffs of various bold shades of green sloping steeply down to a deserted beach unmarked by footprints, then there was the white swell of the waves rolling methodically in from a shipless ocean that appeared progressively blue as it went out. It was a magnificent moment made so much greater by my isolation and the fact that I had run there. It was a moment for feeling small besides the expanse and relentlessness of the sea. It was  a moment that I couldn't capture in polaroid as I didn't have my camera, making it hard to turn away and commence the long slog back. The route home took me across wetlands and through the miniscule Princetown and never ceased to be scenic. It was a tough run, but one of the best I have been on.

A view from Kangaroobie