I'm currently living in Adelaide in South Australia. I've been here since Oct 2016, and up to Christmas I hadn't done much exploring or photography. So when the festive season came round I was very keen to get out and about and see what was around me.
The 12 Apostles
My idea was to get beyond the city, but South Australia is so vast I reckoned I only had time for one highlight which was going to be the highly rated Great Ocean Road. The route was flexible, but I was particularly keen to stop off at the Twelve Apostles. A place of migration for many photographers.
Day one was not an early start I collected the camper about 10 am, but a couple of pit stops meant I hit the road nearer to 1pm on christmas eve. (Sorry didn't I mention that detail?) Anyway the sat nav got me to the correct road South and I watched the countryside roll by from the drivers seat of a brand new campervan. It easily kept pace with the sparse traffic. Still I learned a lesson as a point of potential interest zipped past on the other side of the road. It was a long stretch of duel carriageway and I travelled several miles before I might have turned around. I chose not to as I knew I would be travelling back along the same road in a few days. Still I did slow down and found a more easy going rythmn.
More miles rolled by just a bit more slowly and the sat nav made a suggestion to turn right. Now I didn't exactly question this suggestion as rigorously as I might. I did stop look at the map and it was suggesting a more direct route to my proposed camp ground. However I really didn't consider my fuel situation. Or the implications of heading off into the outback would entail.
It started pleasantly enough. The side road was lined with old gum trees making a leafy avenue of dappled sunshine. Definitely more wildlife, a couple of flocks of cockatoo's, although sadly the only kangeroo's I spotted were roadkill.
The sat nav's route went through small towns with English place names. I hadn't rented a camper before and I made the silly assumption the fuel tank was going to be a lot larger than a car. I realised I'd made an error when I finally noticed the fuel gauge and did some joined up thinking. Driving along the back roads of South Australia the garages are well spread out. Additionally most shops /garages close at 5pm. Given it happened to be Christmas Eve that made petrol a scarce commodity. More angry with myself than the satnav I cursed wildly then nicknamed the sat nav it the 'dumdum'.
I looked for garages on my smartphone. Then followed a merry chase from one town to another. Closed closed closed. That said I didn't race around. I wasn't going to get to my intended campground so I hoarded my fuel and looked for somewhere to park up for the night. It may sound all too convenient but I crested a hill and saw a likely looking spot. It was a scenic lookout over a valley. The road was very quiet and I decided that baring a proper campground that would be the place to stop.
The next town was Coleraine, the map marked it in LARGE typeface and I optimistically thought that might indicate a larger town. This was apparently wrong, but I got lucky as the petrol station had been replaced by a 24hour self service pump with credit card payment. Saved.
Needless to say I didn't see a campground so I returned back to the spot I'd seen earlier. With the sun already setting I hurried to set up the camper for the evening. Blinds and curtains for the windscreen and windows. The bed was unfolded and supported on large rectangular bolsters. It had been a long day, tired I feasted on a smoked salmon sandwich.
Day 2
Day two was where I felt my road trip really began. I woke early and it was noticeably cooler in the van. The previous evening the thick duvet had felt quite superfluous, wheras I started the second day choosing socks and a fleece.
I could hear the call of a kookaburra twanging somewhere nearby. Light seeped around the corners of the blackout curtains and panels. Pulling aside the door curtain for a peak of the outside. I was mildly disappointed to be sat inside a cloud, the amazing view of the previous evening utterly obliterated in a white out. Still all was not lost. The birdsong became a tuneful dawn chorus, Australian magpies joined the the kookaburra and the cheeps, tweets and chirps were all around me. Rosellas muscled their way in en masse and also joined in with tuneless squawks that displaced the more exotic melody I'd been enjoying. Nonetheless the colourful parrot like birds infested the nearest trees and proceeded to keep me company for the next half an hour.
I brewed tea and enjoyed cereal with cold milk and fruit, the campervan experience felt a lot more civilised than my adventures with a tent. I even had warm water to wash in.
Despite the apparent remoteness of the location a text buzzed noisily on my phone. It was a text from UK wishing me seasons best. The sun began to burn off a layer of cloud and a cool breeze did it’s best to finish the job. I was motivated to unpack the camera. The rosellas were still squawking nearby, so my first snap was of them. Shame the laughing Kookaburra were gone. I wasn't to see or hear another one of those for the entire trip.
View from Coleraine viewpoint Christmas Morning 2016
Of course I had a go at the panorama. Frustratingly my view was hindered by fences, bushes and a patch of nettles. Still i had a go, and for a short moment as the cloud hung patchy and low I saw a moody brooding landscape. A minute or two later the cloud was brushed aside and a harsh sun was beating down on the fields. The change was very abrupt and rather like watching one a timelapse film of clouds on mountains.
I packed the camper. Finding new places for many of my important things. I left my camera to hand covered with a coat to protect from the sun and any prying eyes.
With sunglasses fixed to the bridge of my nose I had a full tank of petrol and a cloudless sky. A far cry from my overcast Christmas in Vancouver the year before.
I input 'Lorne' as my destination on the dumdum. Looking at an overview of the route it chose an interesting route for me. The SA map is fairly littered with place names familiar to me. The route plotted by the dum dum was going to take me through Harrow, Penshurst, Mortlake and Balmoral. Interesting for me as I've actually lived in 2 out of those 4 places, no not Balmoral.
Australia is big and the freeways and expressways feel like they've been drawn by rulers and are immensely dull. The backroads are more interesting but also populated by the same signs.
'Drowsy Drivers Die' , 'Survive this Drive' , 'Arrive alive'. Admirably pithy sentiments.
My first stop of the day was barely half an hour on the road.
'The Waterfall' was just a short way off the route. A large flock of cockatoos were in charge of the carpark area. Boisterous, noisy and not particularly concerned about me. Their flying was punctuated by acrobatic stunts and high speed gliding through trees.
The waterfall was an awesome location and definitely a site that might yield a dramatic photograph. I was in no hurry so I gave it a whirl. In fact I got all my camera toys out for a proper test. I took the shot that was there, ideally I'd have liked something that might yield a sense of scale. From lower down, but I would have needed climbing ropes. I imagined a cliff diver poised to take the leap. But then again was this crocodile country? I did look for a better angle but for the moment this was it.
Back in the carpark the cockatoos seemed to be having ball. I watched their antics a while. They didn't stay still for a moment. Not good candidates for a cage to my mind.
On the road I headed onwards to Lorne and the Great Ocean Road. The dumdum set the route The miles rolled by, I looked out for petrol or coffee in equal measure. I passed small towns and came across the curious SA pursuit of Hay Bale art. You'll have to take my word for this as I neglected to take any pictures of them but quite fun to see the myriad of christmas themed bales oh and a haybale mascarading as r2d2 ...
The rolling farmlands seemed flat and endless. Near Camperdown a group of misplaced hills punctuate the farmland I couldn't resist driving up to the scenic viewpoint. It's a wide open 360 panorama. Well worth a stop. It wasn't yet midday and the heat was quite stiffling. The lofty viewpoint offered a gentle breeze. Pleasant place even if there are signs saying ‘beware of the snakes ...’
A few miles from town I stopped for a tractor breaker yard. Shamefully closed on a Christmas day!! definitely a spot ripe for phototrip all it's own.
The dumdums route took a sharp turn right and as I had a full tank of petrol humoured the machine, even if the main roadsigns were saying the Great Ocean Rd was straight on. The lesser trodden route offer more glimpses of the absent Australian Wildlife. Another flock of Cockatoos and a group of Kangaroos (or Wallaby's) In the shade of a trees on the grounds of a Hari Krishnan farm. Wise beasts to hang out with the vegetarians. I wondered what the collective noun for a Kangaroo was 'a jump?' but google says it's either a mob or a troop.
I'd seen barely another vehicle on the roads to Lorne, I was enjoying the drive, barrelling along the backroads. One moment I was free as bird, the next I was in Lorne inching along the waterfront in dense traffic. I have no doubt Lorne is a charming destination for most of the year. Just don't visit on Christmas Day.
My first impression of the Great Ocean Road wasn't overly positive. Two lanes of traffic going nowhere. And a petrol station overwhelmed by customers. The reason for the traffic was a long stretch of golden sand and the crystal clear waters of the south pacific.
The sun worshippers were out in force. Had i seen a parking space I would have definitely gone for a paddle but the long waterfront was jam packed with convertibles and camper vans. As I couldn't park I turned off the ocean road and followed the signs for a scenic lookout.
The viewpoint looked out over dense greenery to blue ocean. The landline edged by a golden strip of sand. In the ordinary course of events a picture postcard view. Whilst the harsh midday sun was far from my ideal I took the view on offer. If I'm travelling along this way again I'll definitely put more time aside for Lorne.
I left the town slowly behind a queue of other vehicles. Often abiding the request to let faster vehicles past. Only to see them a short while later heading back the other direction for the charms of the resort in festive mood.
The Great Ocean road offered many pull ins and layby's for me to stop and admire the view. High cliffs bordered the ocean on the right day an area of high landscape drama. Still it was a tremendous route to put a road along. All too soon the high cliffs gave way to scrub and beaches. And the next I highlight i wanted to visit were the GibsonSteps. Which were a good deal further along. happily the traffic began to move and as there was plenty of daylight Iwas confident to get there.
If you follow the the route on a map you'll see it occasionally ducks inland. Passing headlands and peninsulas. As it happen on one of the these inland stretches the road game me a long view across farmland into the sun. Picked out i the distance i could see a golden landscape depth sorted wiht high contrast details. Amazing but a shade too far from my roadside position. A glimpse was really all I could get. Sadly no roads led in that direction for quite some way. Definitely a view worth chasing down. But today was not the day to persue the setting sun.
Sunset was underway when I reached the mild mayhem of the carpark.
The most out of place thing I saw on Christmas day was undoubtedly an oriental girl in a pristine white wedding Dress wandering around the Gibson Steps carpark. A vision weaving between all the campervans and cars. She had an entourage of a photographer, camera assistant and two stylists.
Family groups with selfie sticks and heavily laden photographers were all vying for the same view at the cliff edge.
A mini bus sized group of people decided the best view was from the actual steps. They hugged their vantage points on the railings thereby forcing people to walk on the slippery steps behind them. And generally blocking the progress of anyone going up or down. Another oriental woman in a wedding dress (there really were 2 of them) hitched up her hems and went down the steps in heels followed by her own entourage, similar to the previous group but with the addition of a flower bearer with a large bouquet. Her balance and poise was impeccable, I'd felt unsure of my footing in flat soled espadrilles.
People thronged on beach, everyones attention was towards the lone sandstone stack and the sun beginning to set behind it. Waves were crashing impressively on the shingle. One of the 'brides' was trying to negotiate the shingle in heels under the direction of her photographer.
A small forest of selfie sticks and an array of professional grade cameras were trained to the horizon. But the stunning sunset didn't happen. The sky was cloudless and the clear sky was never going to be the show everyone had anticipated. I was happy enough. The sky turned from prussian to indigo and the light left the sky.
I had my camera on a tripod and was vainly trying to pick my moments for an unobstructed view of the stack and the sun. I have a long standing frustration with crowds and finally gave up the idea when a nikon wielding photographer walked in front and set his own camera directly in front of my own camera set up. I was in no hurry so returned to watch the scene from the relative calm of the clifftop. Behind me the carpark was in a jam. Late comers created a queue looking for parking, people were running to the cliff edge fences to catch the last light of the day. The nikon guy from the beach appeared beside me on the viewpoint. Fired a series of high speed shots of the horizon. click click click click click click click
He gave my kit a conspicuous and a distainful look and left. (My kit is mostly canon brand).
I left the Gibson Steps feeling i'd missed an opportunity. This was great landscape spot, but one to prepare for rather than blunder into. I was mindful of this as I returned to the Coast Road, turned left and within 5 minutes found myself in a traffic jam. Ahead a motorcycle policeman was directing traffic, it became apparent that this was the queue for the carpark at the 12 Apostles.
If the Gibson steps was busy this was another level. Given how little light was in the sky I decided to give it a miss and return early in the morning. Once I got free of the traffic I went looking for somewhere secluded to park up for the night. Another car park , for the lock and gorge attraction seemed ideal. It had several separate tarmacked areas I found one to myself. Second day on the road the camper was easy to set up for the night. I was quite happy to raid the fridge for a cold food and drink. The glass of chilled cider went down particularly well. So I had another. After all it was Christmas Day.
This was definitely a dark sky area and it seemed no time at all before I was treated to a gloriously clear view of the southern cross. It's been a while since I saw the sky this clearly. But stood outside watching the heavens above. The milky way was absent but there was plenty of other interesting constellations, it occurred to me this was a view that would have thrilled my father, who'd always been an avid if passive stargazer.
Noise came from another carpark, I wandered down to see a group of Asian lads cooking up a storm in the carpark. Along with the food and the music several of them were standing concerned over one of the engine bay of a car. Which they appeared to be dismantling. They looked set for a very long evening.
Back in the camper the curtains blotted out the stars. My intention was a early start to be at the 12 apostles before any crowds like the day before set an early alarm, and sleep came easily after such a long day on the road.
I needn't have bothered with the alarm, I woke super early on my own. Eager to head back to the 12 Apostles. Overnight the clouds had rolled in. The morning skies were grey dull overcast , a thin drizzle was rain beginning to set in. A good reason to get on with it. Skipping breakfast I made it into the Visitor Centre carpark at a little after 7am. But I wasn't on my own, several cars and campers had got there before me (or stayed overnight?) .
I was keen to get to see the Crown Jewels of South Australia's geological treasures. Hopping out of the camper I was mobbed by a thick swarm of black flies. I was back inside in a trice. All the cars around me had their own swarms. Black dots on the paintwork. I clambered into the back and covered up as best I could. Waterproof jacket , scarf / Sunglasses and a pair of gloves. Not a very 'summery' ensemble! I was pestered by my personal swarm as the flies buzzed just inches from my face. Still it was only a short walk to the viewpoints. Several signs indicated the presence of snakes I watched my footing carefully. Flies and snakes, a truly wonderful spot!
The pacific was in a tired mood, a gentle lethargic swell lapped at the rocks. Giving the impression of a benign and quiet spot. A million tourist snaps give the lie to that. But this day the violence was already spent.
I set my camera, giving a periodic Australian salute as I swatted ineffectually at the flies. Flies settled on the lens of my shades and inadvertently I swatted my own glasses ten feet into the air and onto the tarmac. I was very lucky they didn't go over the edge. Happily they survived my abusive treatment without apparent damage for which I was immensely thankful.
I took my shot. Made a decent fist of trying all the most likely settings to make it an interesting image. But the conditions were dull and uninspiring. Oh well! I'd have to return another day!
I left the 12 apostles thinking I'd struck out again. Still I was truly happy to bequeath my swarm of flies to other visitors.
The campervan hit the road west before the Visitor Centre opened. Quite soon the drizzle turned to rain. I'd had the best of the morning.
The coast in this part of SA is constantly being assaulted and eroded by the ocean and there are several formations to stop at. I dutifully stopped at each of these viewing points in turn, finding myself sharing each of the scenic attractions with the same group of selfie stick wielding tourists. Inevitably we all got in each others way. At the 'grotto' ( a fallen in cave which looks out to sea) We nudged past each other to get our mementos. After which I chose to stop awhile and have a brunch in the camper. This area was also plagued by flies , I boiled the kettle and from my protected enclosure I watched an impressive number of coming's and going's. Noting some very high end photographic equipment being toted around.
Revived, I hit the road in search of coffee. I kept to my 'sightseeing' pace. Which easily enabled other road users to zip past on the traffic free roads. The new landscapes didn't catch my photographic eye enough to stop the camper so I still made good progress.
I refuelled with caffeine and gogo juice for the camper. Consulting the dumdum for my next destination it suggested the Great Ocean Road had finished some way back. Even so regular signs still proclaimed I was on the Great Ocean Road but I suspected I seen the best of it, for me the drama had fizzled out somewhere in the drizzle.
I hadn't gone far and at this point could have made a return trip to the 12 apostles. But never gave it thought. I headed West and stumbled on my favourite spot of the trip. Tower Hill nature reserve.
In my mind Tower hill deserves to be marked as the dramatic full stop the Great Ocean Road. The truth is I almost drove straight past, an exposed rockface caught my eye and I turned around to get a better view. The roadside carpark gave me the best view I'd seen for the whole trip. Very unexpected as the the surrounding area held very little drama. Being undulating and mostly featureless.
Tower hill is of volcanic origin. The carpark was actually the rim of a huge water filled crater with a large irregular island at it's heart. Heavily forested the whole thing only needed a glass villa on the island to be the perfect Bond Villan's lair.
It was a tremendous view and I had a stab at the pano.. then hopped back in the van and drove though the parks main entrance and down the long curvy drive to the visitor centre. I may not have known the park was there but plenty of others did and the carpark was quite busy.
It turned out that Tower Hill had several walks to enjoy. The first one I did was the stroll to the summit of the island peak. I misjudge the humidity starting my stroll wearing a waterproof jacket, well it was still raining. The short walk whetted my appetite for more I noted numerous new birds flitting through the dense canopy and happily I managed to get a snap of a colourful blue plumed bird on a twig.
Having done the shortest of the available walks I went back to the visitor centre, then chose to walk the 'Last Crater Walk'. One of the longer ones but still less than an hour. Ten minutes walking away from the carpark and it was much quieter . Far fewer visitors were venturing this direction. I saw many more of the Blue Feathered birds.
The walk in the temperate forest was much needed antidote to my ceaseless driving of the past couple of days. In a pleasant hilltop glade I stood awhile to watch the birds flit around me. I really wasn't prepared to hear a deep gutteral grunt from a thicket very closeby. It sounded distinctly mamallian. Transfixed I watched as 2 large emu's walked out the bush right in front of me. Both were taller than I am with shaggy loose feathers. Both were oblivious to my presence more intent on pecking at the ground. It was an eerie and impressive moment for me. I had along lens on the camera. But I could easily have taken a 'close up' picture with a mobile phone.
The moment with the emu's lasted a bare minute or two. Then they chose to move on into the dense woodland. Moments after they disappeared from view a family of Asian burst noisily into the glade. Clearly they viewed me standing quietly alone in the trees as an oddity. One woman asked me what I'd sen up here. She wasn't impressed by my answer, apparently they'd seen emu's down in the carpark. Fair enough, but it felt special to me.
I completed the crater walk loop and returned to the visitor centre. Keen for more I chose a short lakeside loop next. The walk started with a well kept boardwalk through reed beds. The boardwalk was home to an impressive number of skinks. The finger sized reptiles disappeared under the woodwork at an impressive pace. Watching the skinks was the highlight of the short walk.
I was glad to make it back to the camper. Three walks in the damp were enough for one day. A map showed there were actually four scenic lookouts on the crater edge. Three more to try! On my way out of the gate I came across an animal I hadn't seen in the park. An Echina. It was negotiating the cattle grid by going underneath it. The spiky animal moved with purposeful poise. I saw it go into the cattle grid, then again as it squeezed out. I took a snap from in the camper but had a 35mm lens on it so the pictures are really cropped. I watched till it took one step into the undergrowth and it was invisible. Apparently they are shy. I felt lucky to have seen it.
I visited each of the lookouts, then realised one was an excellent place to park up for the night. Positioning the camper so the so I could view the crater as darkness fell.
Day3
An early night meant I was up early. I pulled the cabin curtain aside a saw a wildlife photographer clambering out of the crater. He gave me a cheery wave and set off counter clockwise.
Low clouds clung to the landscape. No improvement on the day before, rain looked imminent. Ten minutes later the photographer came back in chatty mood. Bill was looking out for birds of prey. He'd been watching a young peregrine falcon, that had taken flight and was now on the other side the crater. He showed me a few snaps. Some alarmingly good bird pix.I was a bit less impressed when I realised they weren't all recent. It seemed he kept some of his better portfolio shots permanently on the sd card in his camera. Possibly just to show people like me.
My route was northwards, there were still signs for the 'great ocean road.. The wide road really wasn't that scenic. Mostly I was looking for a mug of coffee. I trundled onwards heading towards Mount Gambier, and the 'blue lakes'. The dumdum suggested several 'outdoor' diversions along the way. As it had been raining quite steadily since the day began I hadn't actually stopped other than to get petrol and coffee. I was overdue a point of interest.
A prominent sign for the Princess Margaret Caves came along at the right time, and it would be indoors out of the rain. The caves were predictably busy on the 'wet' holiday day. The wait to visit was about half an hour. The small visitor centre was choc a bloc with people. In my wait I read all the material on the wall and indulged in a some people watching. One youth was engrossed in a new camera. presumably a Xmas present. He was intent on documenting his entire day. I just hope he had lots of memory cards for the camera.
The caves were what I'd hoped, an interesting diverstion. The guide gave us a safety talk and our party was split into two groups. The tour lasted abourt half an hour. I particularly liked the way they 'revealed' the caves to us by turning on the lights as we went. I dont' recall many details of the caves. I wasn't really listening I spent a happy time just looking at the varied shapes colours and textures. I gave a 'panorama' a go inside the caves and was pleasantly surprised the results.
We left the cave by the same route we entered, turning the lights off as we went. So the next group could be treated to the big reveal. Back in the visitor centre they had another full house of people ready to take the tour.
I'd driven to the caves from the west, but the dumdum bleeped to go a different route out. That road wasn't metalled. What the hell I wasn't in a hurry and I had plenty of petrol. In short I was soon edging slowly along the gravel road through the softwood plantations. I was happy to see my first wildlife of the day. As the wide verge was home to the occasional kangaroo. It redressed the balance from all the road kill I'd seen on the first day on the country roads.
Mount Gambier wasn't very far and the signposting for the Blue lakes was prominent and regular. The charms of a water filled round lake were an instant miss for me. I don't know why but I'd anticipated more. I did the scenic viewpoint and stared at the blueness. But the coffee in the visitor centre was my highlight. I read all the literature on offer. And completely failed to spot an attraction I might have appealled to me a lot more. A sunken garden in a fallen cave. If you happen to be in Mount Gambier area maybe worth hunting this other attraction out.
My persistent friend the rain continued to ensure I was well hydrated on my journey north. On the streets of Mount Gambier I came across my first sign for Adelaide.
The dumdum showed a long stretch of wetlands that offered a impressive gap in civilization. That felt rare in this vast countryside. I 'd previously heard the wetlands were home to large flocks ofwading birds, and was home to a colony of pelicans. If you look online the Corong is very popular site for birders.
I took no chance on the petrol situation and topped up the petrol and headed north into the rain. Which merrily thrummed against the windscreen and the roof. An hour and a half later I was still on the road north and looking for somewhere to park up for the night. I tried the granite rocks car park. There were a couple of people ahead of me already parked up. But I was mobbed by an immense cloud of flies when I got out of the camper. Half an hour later a signpost indicated a 'pelican colony'. Which sounded good to me, I duly pulled in. The carpark next to wide expanse of ripple free water was empty and mercifully free of the flies. I drifted off to sleep to the thrum of rain on the roof.
Day 4
In the morning I woke very awake, to silence. The report on the morning radio said Adelaide been hit by a severe storm.
Out in the Corong I had good reason to rethink my campsite as the water I'd parked next to had burst it's banks. The camper was sat on a small island. Not a major concern as the water was only a few inches deep.
First order of the day was a short walk through the scrub and heather. Mindful of snakes I had my head down looking at the ground. No snakes but I did startle a pair of small kangaroos (or wallaby's). Who bound off at high speed. I carried on to the bird watching hide. It's main windows pointed directly as a small island offshore. But you'd need a good optical aid to view any birds. The island was empty.
The overflowed lake posed no problem of the camper. Phew! I agreed with the dumdum, turned left onto the main road and headed north. There was plenty more of the Corong to get through. I settled into the familiar pace. The occasional car whizzed past me.
My first stop of the day was Old Tailem Bend, a genuine Australian 'olde worlde' theme town. The typeface was olde worlde too, so on my way in read the place name as SALLEM !
Sadly the attraction wasn't open owing to a pair of trees coming down in the storm the previous night. I settled for a cuppa and some snaps of the vintage lorries in the carpark. It was still earlyish and Adelaide was only an hour away. I was loathe to head straight back so I took the advice of a lady in the Olde Tea Shoppe and headed for Victor Harbour.
An hour later with the dumdum's aid it seemed like I had found another world. The sun beating down on me with the blue ocean beside me. The bluff at the far end of the beach looked like my kinda viewpoint so I off I went. Like another of the viewpoints on my trip the road seemed to go exactly where I wanted. The first carpark was oversubscribed so I headed onwards, rising the brow of the hill the view was one of the best of the trip. A rocky cove, with a sandy beach. And happily there was room for the camper in the second carpark. A paddle in the ocean took my fancy, I joined a couple of family groups who were on the beach. The sand was already scorching on my bare feet, whilst the water was deliciously cold. All I needed now was an ice cream. Petrel Beach would be my toptip fora vacation spot. The view wasn't half bad and quite peaceful.
Heading back up the steps down several cars pulled in. One of them broadcasting a drum and bass tune at a million decibels for the pleasure of everyone .........
A motley group of surfers. One by one they filled all the spaces in the second carpark, then started parking on the verges of the road. Not such a quiet spot after all. A colourful crowd the area was suddenly alive with activity. Body boards, sun screen, bikinis and dogs were everywhere, a side of Australia I hadn't seen since Lorne. In Lorne it overwhelmed me. Wheras Petrel Beach felt like an invitation to join the party. I did hang out for a while enjoyed watching the surfers.
I took a path up to an information board and found that the coastal path was a part of the Haysden Trail, just fora taster I wandered down it a while ... ok for a about an hour. Which took me along cliffedges to a chain of 3 small secluded golden beaches. After all the rain and drizzle I found the picture postcard Australia the tourist industry relentlessly feeds us.
Back at the camper I typed "home James!" into the dumdum. Which unsurprisingly errorred. No worries! there were plenty of roadsigns to follow.