At complimentary "breakfast," or toast and tea, there are still no
takers to drive with me. It'll be a solo journey, meaning pricey but
flexible. A ride from the rental shop is a drive with a guy who, if
he's not on speed, is among the most naturally energetic people I've
ever met.
Getting used to driving on the left is awkward, especially because the
turn signal stick's now to the right of the wheel and I'm not quite
sure which lane is the passing lane on the highway. I probably would
have crashed if they hadn't given me an automatic. My Nissan Pulsar
performs well enough, although she's none too fond of exceeding 140
km/hr.
Within a few hours, I'm on the twists, turns, and vistas of Great
Ocean Road. It's hard to keep myself from stopping at each of the
many scenic viewpoints, but I've got a lot of road to cover and many
necessary stops. Speaking of which, the first is Pixie Caves, tiny
indentations in a cliff wall. Hiking down stairs to see them, I find
an utterly useless souvenir whose presence my imagination explains
with an assortment of grisly scenarios: a sole flipper. Needless to
say, I take it with me.
The near-miss in the outback didn't satiate my desire for kangaroos,
so I stop at a golf course that Let's Go warns is good for marsupial
sightings from afar but poses risks of attack by kangaroo and / or
golf ball if you get too close. The "absolutely no entry to course
for kangaroo viewing" sign is small enough that I can reasonably argue
I didn't see it, so I head towards the putting greens. With multiple
kangaroos and only 1 golfer, at least I'm likely to get the
interesting kind of attack.
The closer I get to the nearest kangaroo, the less intelligent my plan
to pet him becomes. I'd thought I could just punch one of the strange
things in the mouth if it tried attacking me, but that was before I
realized how tall it'd be standing on its hind legs and that it would
have large claws. Considering this new information and wondering if
kangaroos can carry rabies, I'm content to stand ~5 feet away.
Koalas are similarly surprising. I climb a tree to pet one, and
before I'm even all that close it's holding out a hand full of large
claws. It's small enough that I could probably just whack it out of
the tree, but I'd probably also fall out in the process. Besides, its
sleepy appearance could be a clever diguise for rare, rapid tourist
attacks...
Next main event is a wash. The Otway National Park Tree Top Walk is
the longest and highest forest canopy walk in the world. Sounds worth
doing, right? I drive half an hour off-track to it to find it's
almost twice as expensive as I thought and doesn't look half as cool
as it sounded.
It's almost nightfall when I arrive at the road's infamous Twelve
Apostles, rock formations rising high out of the water. These are
more intriguing than satisfying, especially with signs proclaiming how
amazing the structures' underwater surroundings are. I wish I'd
brought my snorkelling gear / brought a wetsuit / completed my SCUBA
certification. Like many of the places I've seen on this trip, I
guess I'll just have to come back.
Only 1 kangaroo sighting during my dusk drive to Warrnambool. I
finally get my fill of marsupial with a kangaroo fillet that tastes
almost exactly like steak. Quality conclusion to the evening is
reading in a bar with live music as my ambient noise. With my car /
bed parked less than a block away, I've got primer real estate than
anybody else in the place.