Moving On (Again)

On Wednesday I left Kangaroobie, sadly I have to say as it was a fantastic week there that ticked all the boxes: great company, great scenery, and great food. Tuesday was especially fun as I played 'The Game of Life or Death' three times with different groups of kids. The Game is basically a combination of hide and seek and tag played in an area of bushland, with a few complications as each kid is assigned the role of either herbivore, carnivore, or disease. I played as a human, which meant I was armed with a Super Soaker and got to run around drenching ten year olds. Brilliant. I thought it would be a bit unfair if I just charged about brandishing my weapon, so instead I took a stealthy approach and by my third game of the day I had perfected my ambush technique - crouching silently amongst the vegetation then jumping out in front of unsuspecting victims and dousing them with water.

From Kangaroobie I took a bus (on which I was one of only two passengers) to Apollo Bay, a scenic town on the Great Ocean Road where I stopped for 24 hours on my way back to Melbourne. From here, I took an eight mile walk along the Great Ocean Walk to Shelly Beach and back. I started out strolling on the beach and was wondering if there was actually a trail at all when I reached my first 'Decision Point'. These points were marked by signposts warning you that the beach route could be dangerous in certain wave and tidal conditions, instructing you to take the inland track instead. The sign ended with 'You must decide on the best option'. I couldn't help but read this sentence in a wise old Gandalf style voice. Naturally, the wording of the sign made taking the inland track sound like the wimpy option, so I opted to continue along the beach at every Decision Point on the way out. This decision proved to be entirely safe, but made the walk rather taxing as I was either going through sand or clambering over rock pools the entire way. It was a good effort to reach Shelly Beach and I rewarded myself handsomely in the shape of three heavenly dark chocolate Tim-Tams. On the way back I did take the inland track whenever possible in the interest of variety, and this was also a good decision as from higher up I was afforded some great views of the coastline, such as the one pictured below.

I had been greatly looking forward to my one night stay at the Apollo Bay YHA as it possesses a 97% rating on hostelworld.com - the highest I have ever seen. Upon arrival, I quickly realised why it is so well received. The place is immaculate, clean as a hotel. The two kitchens are stylish and well equipped and the rooms and beds comfortable. The hostel boasts a herb garden from which you are welcome to garnish your dinner, a myriad of eco friendly features, and a roof deck with spectacular views of the bay and surrounding hillside. Unfortunately, the Apollo Bay YHA was dreadfully boring and made me question whether the 'Y' in 'YHA' actually stands for 'Youth'. The only other users of the kitchen while I was cooking and scoffing my hamburgers were a deeply middle aged German woman and a posh, retired British couple, one of whom had to briefly leave her glass of red wine to fetch her hearing aid. A predominantly cloudy day had given way to a gorgeous sunny evening, so after dinner I headed up to the roof deck, expecting to find it rammed with happy travellers savouring the late sunshine with some drinks and the stunning views. There wasn't a soul up there.  Oh well, I'll enjoy this idyllic spot by myself with a book and a beer. My lack of rooftop companions gave me that feeling I often get of completely failing to understand the behaviour of fellow members of my species. It's a sensation I get every time I hear music on the radio and I felt it almost constantly while walking around Chicago. Where was everybody? Looking out, I could see that the town was now shaded, with the exception of this roof deck. It was the best place to be in Apollo Bay at that time! What could all the other guests possibly be doing that was better? Furthering my bafflement were the few people who wandered up, wowed at the scene, took a few pictures, then retreated back down the stairs one minute after arriving. How come these folk weren't compelled to stay and see out the sunset? Why didn't they return with a beer, a book, or a buddy? Maybe I just like sunny evenings and good views more than most people. Maybe it's a good thing I'm travelling alone.

Once the sun was gone and the orange-purple glow dissipated, I went back inside hoping to find some people hanging out in the common areas or a movie underway in the TV room. Nope. There was barely anyone around and the only occupants of the TV room were two girls lying sound asleep on the sofas. By 9.30 I had finished my book (the seventh of my trip) and had little option but to get an early night.

A bus took me away from Apollo Bay and back to Melbourne, for the third time since I originally left the city. This morning I emerged from the dingy and savagely unhomely Nomad's International Backpackers Hostel to a beautiful Melbourne morning. My walk alongside the Yarra River and back along Bourke Street felt like a victory lap, as my time in Victoria had been a brilliant adventure:

It started with five classic days of tennis watching at the Australian Open, with the heatwave only making it more memorable. During that week I resided at the Corkman Hostel, an out of the way place above an Irish pub. The mattresses were way too soft and the beds hazardous - while I was there one chap was lying on a top bunk when the cross bars gave way, sending both bed parts and backpacker crashing down onto the snoozing Irishman below. However, it was a charming hostel with a great atmosphere thanks to its small size and fun, friendly guests. I look back on my stay there very fondly. Next I lived in luxury for a great week with a super nice family in Bendigo, where I felt a little spoiled as all I did in exchange for the wonderful hospitality I was shown was a couple of hours of house/garden work each day. From there I headed to the dairy farm in Northern Victoria for an interesting three weeks. It was a challenging time as I was on my own in the middle of nowhere, in forty degree heat, working long days with a lot to learn, and lacking any real freedom. Furthermore, I fell ill for a few days with food poisoning. Overall it was a brilliant experience though, ending on a high note with my mostly successful stint in charge of the farm. Also, I will now forever be able to say "I was an Australian dairy farmer for three weeks". After heading back to Melbourne and stopping for an amusing day in Geelong, I hit the Great Ocean Road for perhaps the most scenic section of my adventure so far.

Next I will be continuing my clockwise circumnavigation of Australia as I am flying to Perth today. The plan is to explore Western Australia's capital and stay with a family there, before heading inland for another farm stay. Stay tuned.