peteg's blog - travels

I figured I'd chase some sun and try snorkelling somewhere new, so I headed up the coast. Albert and Sandy suggested Myall Lakes, just north of Port Stephens, as a place to camp, and Andrew T reckoned the bay itself contains stuff to look at, so it seemed like a natural first-stop.

Well, the short story is that the northern side of the bay is mostly mangrove swamp, and from my experience down at Woy Woy visibility is quite poor at river mouths. I happened upon the surf life saving club on the ocean beach at Hawks Nest, and the blokes there suggested I try going along the rocks at the south end of it, about a ten minute walk from the closest carpark (for those without 4WDs). I got down there with my gear only to find a bloke trying to hook a shark in about a metre of water, perhaps ten metres from the shoreline and less from the rocks, and decided to hoof it back to the car. There were loads of fisherman there so I imagine the sea had a few other carnivores hanging around. I took a dip a bit further up and found it quite pleasant in.

I camped the night up at Myall Lakes, solo at the Boomeri site; it's the last one along the road coming from the south, and unlike the others is not on the lake. Some dingos turned up as the sun was setting but kept their distance and only looked hopeful. A possum demanded food as I wandered down to the loo for something to do after dark, which set in around 6pm; the days are so short right now that I was all ready for bed by 6:30pm (tent up and food in gut), and boredom set in soon after. I finished Andrew X. Pham's book, and I must say that the iPod Touch is backlit is mighty convenient when camping.

The next day I took a quick dip in the lake, which turned out to be a tea lake! I haven't seen one of those in about a decade. A bit cooler than the ocean but just as pleasant. After that I got the car ferry and headed up to Forster along the Lakes Way. Again I tried snorkelling at Forster along the rocks but the surf was just large enough to dissuade me from finding out where the fish hide from it.

I guess I was dreaming of Gordons Bay-type inlets, and too blasé to the shark issue. I got bored and drove back to Sydney.

I wouldn't go so far as some reviewers, but camping at the Canberra Motor Village is not a peaceful experience. Suffice it to say that it is wedged just under Belconnen Way and is not scenic, quiet nor particularly cheap. Next time I might try Exhibiton Park (EPIC).

The ACT provincial government claims that the Old Kowen Homestead is perfect for camping. I disagree quite strongly: it is poorly signposted and a lot further from Sutton Road than I expected; I got quite lost and while I commonly do navigate in a circular fashion I don't like being forced to rely on it. It was raining too much for me to set up so I slept in the car, which I could have done in the Parliament House carpark I guess. The roads are unsealed (so the car is caked with mud) and the logging trucks start early in the morning. The campground is completely unspecial and there are no facilities beyond a toilet. There is nothing to see. Go elsewhere.

I decided to camp the night at Thredbo Diggings on Andrew T's suggestion. The road from Canberra to Cooma was quite busy, though from Cooma to the diggings was quite peaceful. It cost $16 to enter the Kosciuszko National Park, and the camping was free. The campground is quite pretty and popular. The ducks are quite insistent about being fed and the kangaroos are quite curious too. I didn't see any platypus or go for a walk as it was too wet and cold, and I didn't bring the right shoes.

Once again I spent a night in Canberra and thought I'd see how often they change the code on the shower block at the Woods Reserve Recreation Area. I can confirm that it is changed at least once every two months.

After a moderately clear day, the rain blew in around 4:30pm and didn't let up until morning (as far as I could tell). The large eastern grey kangaroo I saw last time escorted me down the turnoff to the campsite. I set the tent up starting around 8:30pm, and the Macpac Nautilus's faults meant that things didn't stay as dry as I would have liked: when the fly's door is open the water runs off onto the floor of the tent itself. Still, I managed to keep things dry enough.

It was a tad cold, perhaps three or four degrees, and the morning foggy. Soon after I got into the tent I had heard some faint scratching, as if something was digging near the tent, and I did find a small hole near the door when I got moving. Something had feasted on ends of the carrot I had discarded... and perhaps come looking for somewhere out of the rain.

Well that was a dumb idea. I had reason to be in Canberra on Thursday, so I planned to get there on Wednesday and camp the night at the Woods Reserve Recreation Area. If I had thought it through better I would have camped Thursday night and saved myself the late drive back to Sydney.

Anyway, I drove down through Tuggeranong, arriving around 8pm. The camping ground is quite civilised: hot showers, plenty of room, though most sites are some distance from where you can park your car. I set up the old Macpac Nautilus in the headlights of the car, and froze my hands off while doing so. The ambient air wasn't too bad but the ground was already frosty.

The tent hasn't let me down before, but it isn't up to this kind of winter camping; according the BOM it got down to about -3 degrees in Tuggeranong around 3:30am. My sleeping bag is purportedly good down to -6 degrees, but that proved to be another furphy. I didn't sleep too well, largely because I wasn't used to breathing cold air, a problem I solved around 4am by burying my head in the bag. The shower was pleasant in the morning, though the three minutes on, two minutes off duty cycle meant I had to shiver while waiting for that extra minute to wash the shampoo off. It was too cold to shave. Oh well.

The frost in the morning was pretty intense. Both sides of the tent's fly were dusted in ice. Fortunately the ground was still soft, so getting the pegs out was easy, and even luckier the car started without a fuss. On the drive out I spotted this roo just a short distance from the campsite. I think it is the biggest Eastern Grey I've seen in the wild.

Later I found the cold had pretty much killed the MacBook's battery, but it does seem to still hold a charge.

From a tip by a mate of Darren: if you intend to ride a bike in Vietnam and don't have an Australian or local licence, QBE's policy does not rule out covering you provided the bike is 100cc or less. Read the policy carefully though, for they may still play some kind of illegal-activity shenanigans. I hope I don't have to find out.

You can get steep discounts by looking around. I got mine through Global Surf Travel for 30% less than going straight to QBE. Strangely QBE still process the payment and issue the policy directly from their website. It remains a lot more than e.g. AAMI (for me about $250 versus $165) but it might actually pay out if something happens.

I headed off to the consulate in Edgecliff last Thursday to apply for a tourist visa, and back today to pick it up. They will give you a single-entry 3 month visa for $AU100, or a multi-entry one for $AU140. Seems like a lot less hassle than what people have done in the past, or trying to get a pre-organised visa-on-arrival.

After doing the eastern side of the ridge, I figured I'd return to the beautiful Berowra Waters for an overnight day-length walk. Unfortunately the map from the Great North Walk info pack led me astray — their estimate of a day for this trek was wildly inflated. Starting at 1:30pm I did the loop in less than four hours, getting home in time to watch Australia steal a win against Wales in the first rugby international of the season. So yeah, it was pleasant taking the tent/sleeping bag/mat/cooking gear/... for a walk, but in this weather one could get by with just a litre or two of water.

I had in mind to head up past Berowra Waters on the Sunday, as the camping options are a bit limited north of that point, but it seemed pointless to pitch a tent at 5pm. The track itself is very well signposted and quite a bit runs along fire trails, allowing a decent pace. There is some up-hill just near Sam's Creek, but nothing too arduous.

I went to the Department of Lands today to get some maps and info on the Great North Walk. It looks like it has been tamed over the past few years, so the old tales of heroism are probably (hopefully) overstating the difficulty. One of my fellow map-hunters reckoned the part west of Newcastle was used by people to train for the Kokoda Trail, being full of leeches and all. I, more modestly, hope to walk from somewhere around Mt. Kuring-gai to Berowra or Cowan over a couple of days in the near future. I can't believe the western side of Cowan is anywhere near as bad as the eastern... but in any case the weather will be milder than last time.

Iain suggested I have a crack at Mt Solitary with all my new gear, and so I did. You can get some idea of the place from this Google map, though it looks more interesting in Google Earth if you can cope with a lack of resolution. There is some great info about the walk at Oz Ultimate that I slightly quibble with in the following.

I caught the train up to Leura to meet my parents, and after a morning tea that consisted of an enormous flowerpot scone and the last coffee I'd have for a couple of days, I got them to give me a lift to the top of the Golden Stairs. These are a steep but pretty easy descent to the Federal Pass, and the flat to the bottom of the Ruined Castle is as easy a walk as one will find in the Blue Mountains. The scramble up to the ridge is mercifully short and quite worthwhile. At some point around here the drizzle set in, continuing on and off for the rest of the day.

I was all geared up for a physically challenging descent at the eastern end of Mt Solitary, and so I was expecting the western approach (the Koorowall Knife-edge) to be about as hard as all that had come before, i.e. only making me wish I got more cardiovascular exercise more regularly. To my surprise the scrambles went on for quite a while, requiring one to climb about as many metres up as forward. Fortunately I am about as coordinated with the pack as I am without, and that proved adequate, and I'm always ready to take a spell (of work or rest, as need be). By this point all the time estimates people had given me had slipped on by, but as I'd multiplied them all by two anyway I had plenty of sun left.

At some point the going-forward track dead-ended on the southern side of the mountain, but a small backtrack, some swearing and a steep hike got me to the first summit mentioned in the cheat-sheet. I pushed on for what felt like an age to Chinaman's Gully and set up under one of the underhangs. (There are truckloads of campsites on this route, complete with stone fireplaces.) Vodafone covered most of the walking trail, and so I spent some time nattering with Dave when the darkness properly kicked in.

After a very slow start the next morning I had a pleasant walk along the ridge which had some great views back to Katoomba, though I couldn't see much of the Three Sisters as they stand in line, pretty much directly north. Indeed, the haze and rain put paid to any decent photos from this trip. The more adventurous or energetic could probably climb the summit with little trouble, but I was preoccupied by what was in the offing. Continuing to the Col I made my mark in the log book and contemplated the descent to the Kedumba River. Suffice it to say that yep, it's steep, but I reckon it was easier than trying to go back down the western side with a pack on.

Again the rain started up while I was trudging along the Mt Solitary Walking Trail, abating by the time I got to the Kedumba River crossing. Due to the rain it was flowing quite rapidly, and I took the opportunity to refill my 2.4L Berri Apple and Pear Juice container (thanks, parents) and try out these water purification tablets. The result was some chemical-smelling but perfectly fresh-tasting water that didn't make me crook. Lunch was a Heinz Chunky Butter Chicken, which is just fabulous if you're eating to live. (Dinner had been their Rogan Josh.)

From the other side of the river the trail goes straight to a fire trail that leads to Kedumba Pass. An apple and a quarter-block of dark chocolate got me up the Victoria Pass-steep road in double quick time, arriving at the defunct Queen Victoria Memorial Hospital in something like an hour. I've got to find more things to do while I wait for my heart to slow down. The rain set in again, I was buggered and it seemed like a good idea if civilisation came to me in the form of an amiable cabbie. Had a beer at the pub at Wentworth Falls and was kept awake by the inane chatter of youths on the train back to Central.

In short: navigation was pretty easy, or as one guy remarked: "it's a highway". I had the Jamison Valley topo map recommended by the cheat-sheet; the Katoomba one is not very helpful as it only covers the very start of the trip which is signposted anyway. The views are great, especially on the southern side. The Docs are not the best hiking boots ever. Kathmandu really should make a big-as-can-be water bladder for their Gluon^TM system.

Iain is presently working at Kathmandu, and they're presently having a massive sale... ergo, I bought some gear. (The sale was a lucky coincidence, I was really there for Iain's expertise.) Here we go:

• A Vanguard v4 Rucksack with a daypack.
• A silk sleeping bag liner.
• A microfibre towel, and we'll see how much skin that takes off.
• A self-inflating mat

Suffice it to say I am well pleased. Now, to get all the other gear together... and see how far I can walk with it on.

Drove into Swan Hill with a hankering for some Maccas hotcakes (pancakes) for breakfast only to find they remain Maccas free. Settled for some pricey bacon, eggs, two coffees and an orange juice from an wannabe upmarket café. The waitress-barista at least had the pride to diss me for trying to explain a macciatto to her; in my defence I observe it is still short-or-long-macciatto land and she didn't get it right anyway (not quite enough cold milk). Better than the typical mini-cappuccino in any case.

After that I headed back to Orange to visit my parents for a bit. Took all day, about 600km through Deniliquen (bought some honey), West Wyalong (a coffee), Forbes, mostly signposted at 110km/h on single-carriageway highways. It is strange to be driving on the roads I learnt on as they are indeed as bad as any of the others on this trip.

Blue skies once again, hope the rain made it to Orange and further east. Had a quick swim in the morning. The Murray River is quite placid at this point in the Murtho State Forest. Strangely enough there were a veritable forest of succulents just next to the access road. Views from Headings Lookout:

Drove to Mildura, about 150km along the Sturt Highway. It's still 110km/h even into Victoria, but drops back to a Victorian (and NSW) standard 100km/h east of a little farming town near Mildura. The lady who served me lunch said she hadn't been asked for a Neenish Tart for several years. Mildura itself is a not-too-exciting relatively big river town on the right side of the border. The Sturt Highway slips briefly into New South Wales between Mildura and Robinvale, where (shouldered, single-carriageway) it returns to the breakneck 110km/h through endless mallee.

Got some water from the friendly CFA in Robinvale, drove on to the Nyah State Forest, near Swan Hill, for a late afternoon swim and to camp for the night. The river is fairly strong here so swimming is hard work; fortunately there are quite a few tree limbs in the water to hang on to, or even sit on. There's plenty of Major Mitchell campsites along the Murray Valley Highway, including one at the point were the Murray and Murrumbidgee join.

One thing I've failed to learn about campsites is proximity to the highway. Here I'm a good half-kilometre away but the trucks' noise covers that distance easily. Another is proximity to the township. A bunch of people decided to have a small party in the bush tonight. Fortunately they were not from a hoop-cutting tribe.

My only major criticism of the Camping in Australia (Cathy Savage, Craig Lewis) is that it splits things up by state and region, so when trying to find a campsite e.g. near the Murray River one needs to check about three different maps that are not cross-referenced. Similarly I tend to grab too many of the otherwise-excellent Parks Victoria information sheets as I cannot readily determine if they are about where I'm going or where I've been.

(In case anyone is wondering about the car, tent and river photos: there was a restaurant in Göteborg — "the Thai place" on Eklandagatan — that had a truckload of beautiful landscapes with solitary mysterious tents in them.)

Got up at 8:30am New South Wales time, had breakfast and did my laundy at the hostel. I asked the guy at the front desk whether it was worth heading back down to Murray Bridge and Bordertown rather than up to Gawler, and he gave me an emphatic "nope". Expanding, I told him RJL Hawke was born in Bordertown and they'd built a commemorative museum. He responded, "Well, if you go looking you'll find something, but most normal Australians would say there's nothing to see."

Had a second breakfast with An at Passatempo on Gouger St, near Chinatown. Adelaide doesn't really get moving until at least 11am on Sundays, which An reckoned was much better than Perth. We walked over to the info centre on Rundell St and I got the same advice as before: don't stop, head for the border. I think one needs good reasons to be in South Australia.

Just in time I remembered being told that the Botanic Gardens were worth a visit, so An and I drove over there and plodded around for an hour. Indeed, they're very beautiful, so much so that they need to rein it in with News Ltd. sponsorship of the lushest fig-lined corridor. The refurbished Palm House is full of amazing Madagascan arid-climate plants, and the nearby cactus and succulent outdoor bed is pretty cool too. Drove around North Adelaide a bit, where there's not much to see apart from some very fancy houses. We had to do some detouring to avoid the last stage of the Tour Down Under. Headed up to Mt Lofty in the Adelaide Hills but couldn't see anything due to a thick mist. (Come to Adelaide, it's winter in summer.) Dropped An at the State Library and made for the Sturt Highway, to Renmark. It's easy to drive around Adelaide but precious few places to drive to.

Approx 300km drive to the campsite in the Murtho State Forest promised by Camping in Australia (Cathy Savage, Craig Lewis). Very peaceful, no facilities. The river is very pretty around here. There are loads of vineyards even this far north.

Crappy weather all day, but the clouds broke in the evening.

Drove on to the River Port of Goolwa, the (purported) eastern gateway to the Fleurieu Peninsula. If I'd done more research I would have known this is the place to be: one can reeadily get to Hindmarsh Island and the Murray Mouth, and Kangaroo Island sits at the end of the peninsula. Suffice it to say that the good bits here are west of Meningie.

Goolwa was a river port, where goods carried on barges down the river were loaded onto the railway to an ocean port. Supposedly the railway is the oldest public one in Australia. Now it's all touristic.

Drove to the Goolwa Barrage, then on to the boat launch. Walked from there to the Murray Mouth on the Sir Richard Peninsula. As the guy in the info centre said, yes, you can do that, but it's a long (three hour return) hard slog through some uninspiring scrub on an evasive track. It's the sort of thing only someone who'd never think of doing it could assent to.

This is the Murray Mouth from side on (Southern Ocean on the right, Lake Alexandrina on the left, Younghusband Peninsula straight on). The incoming waves exert more force than the freshwater from the river, and given the four-States-and-the-Feds politics involved, South Australia has decided to use Federal money to continuously dredge the Mouth so the Coorong gets the occasional flow.

I tried to cadge a lift back from the mouth from some fisherpeople but was rebuffed on the pretext of no space. They warned me off trying the ocean side, which I think was pretty self-evident given the wind, though perhaps not to me in my ennui-enervated state. A solitary brown snake was a little more friendly on the way back.

The touristic alternative to my hike is to drive through Hindmarsh Island and look at the Mouth from directly opposite. Note to self: drive first, then maybe walk. There's a new Marina Development designed to milk Adelaide's BMW / wine tour set, and some McMansioning west of that. I opportunistically and expensively grabbed some lunch at Bocca Bella's Café at the crossroads, housed in an old school building. Good food, effusive hosts.

This is the Murray Mouth from straight-on, and it's easy to imagine the Mouth when there was more water flow.

In this part of Australia all roads lead to (or equally, away from) Adelaide. I naively followed the signs that said "City" and before I knew it the Anzac Highway left me on their George Street equivalent. Perhaps Church Street is a better approximation as Adelaide seems quite like Parramatta to me. I found an internet café and quickly surmised that there was no theatre on in the near future; the town is hibernating in preparation for the all-consuming Festival. Similarly a lot of hostels appeared to be mostly full, though as usual there was a bed to be had, in this case in a ten-man dorm in the Shakespeare Hostel. Apparently they mostly cater for international uni students while they find somewhere to stay. Pretty standard as far as backpackers go.

Hit the world-famous Rundell St with An from Melbourne, a friend-for-the-night from the hostel, ending up at The Elephant (British) Bar on Fringe Alley. We reckon there's a man shortage in Adelaide, most men in town are cops, and there's a cop on every street.

Crap weather today, raining on and off with varying intensity all day. So what to do but drive around looking for things to look at?

Walked to the beach at 42 Mile crossing, running into an emu and tourists along the (approx) 3km round-trip through sand dunes and scrub. This is the Southern Ocean beach at presumably high-tide at the end of the crossing. The 4WD track is indeed four-wheel-drive only.

Drove up the Princes Highway a bit and got onto the Loop Road. Got onto some ad hoc section of the Lakes Nature Trail, trekking across the salt lake. The crystalline formations remind me of ice on the streets of Göteborg after a few days of snow and rain.

Remaining optimistic I drove around Lake Albert, down to Mark Point and as close to the barrages as one can get in a car. The rain turned me off doing any heroic walks. Returned to Meningie for some lunch via the car ferry that runs between the headlands separating the Albert and Alexandrina lakes.

After making it up to Meningie I concluded that the southern part of the Coorong is not so great without a 4WD vehicle, a boat or a fishing fetish; the scenery just isn't that inspiring.

With more reason to be optimistic I took the car ferry across the Murray to Wellington, and made my way down to Point Sturt in search of a campsite, only to find it quite exposed and ringed by private property. There are loads of vineyards down here.

Headed to Clayton, and got a campsite right on the Alexandrina at the very pleasant Clayton Bay Wetlands Caravan Park for fifteen dollars. In the night we got some heavy rain, thunder and lightning. Had some fish for dinner from Sails, the local café-restaurant, and I can't recommend the Murray Mullet. Another pretty little town.

Tried to find Picaninnie Ponds and completely failed. (There are precious few direct links between things out here.) Did find the Ewens Ponds, though. The South Australians have some strict-sounding but apparently unenforced policies, like snorkelling with a buddy and only six in the pond at once. I didn't bother getting into the water.

Drove on to Mt Gambier. For those heading east-to-west South Australia is kind enough to give one back half-an-hour of one's life, which some would say is quickly burnt by simply being in this State. This is the famous Blue Lake, which is just on the edge of town. It's the water supply so there's no swimming.

Lunch in Mt Gambier at the Jens Hotel. Wandered about trying to find the post office. Going west the roads turn into 110 km/h shoulderless wonders. Made a beeline for Beachport in the hope of getting a swim in before day's end, and had a dip in the Pool of Siloam there, a small kids' pool that is purportedly seven times saltier than the sea.

The Woakwine Cutting, just north of Beachport.

The big lobster in Kingston SE.

The Granites are South Australia's answer to Victoria's 12 Apostles. New South Wales is yet to enter the competition.

The Coorong is the overshoot from the lakes at the River Murray's mouth. I'd been keen to see it since I set eyes on a massive photograph in the transit lounge at Adelaide Airport. Apart from some idealised vision of the Murray Mouth I had no idea what I was getting into.

The Old Coorong Road is not signposted, at least from the south. I found 32 Mile Crossing by accident, and the signposted campsite looked quite dire or even absent, a big fenced-off bog. My maps proved hard to use, with some showing the roads and towns and others the facilities. I found the one in The Tattler to be the best despite it leaving out lots of roads. The area around Goolwa is quite well covered by the map from the information centre although it too does not cover all the roads.

I ended up camping at 42 Mile Crossing with about 10 other people. Got in around 7pm, too late to get a decent site, and so had to settle for a sandy spot directly opposite the self-register stall. It's four bucks for the night (per car, I think motorbikes get a discount). The mild rain was a bit of a bugger while pitching the tent, making me think I would struggle in proper rain. Conversely the car is enjoying the wash. It's very humid inside the tent.

As recommended by Parks Victoria, I tried booking a campsite in the Lower Glenelg National Park at the Nelson info centre but they weren't biting. Give it a shot, they say, can't imagine they're full.

Went the long way around, avoiding South Australia: to Dartmoor, along some dirt roads, through pine plantations harbouring emus and kangaroos. The town is pretty dead: I sat in the coffee lounge at the general store for quite a while and no-one tried to sell me anything. The wood sculptures on the main street are quite cute, apparently representing some war veterans. Here's some guys sculpting with chainsaws.

Continuing the loop I found the Waterfall Gardens, a beautifully presented private property on Wanwin Road, fronting the Glenelg River. It's a bit pricey at five dollars for a walk and fifteen for two-thirds of a (good) lunch.

On to the Princess Margaret Rose Cave, which is a single limestone stream cave. There's a boat ride there from Nelson. All I can say is don't go on the 2:30pm tour, as that is when the boat gets in. The guide pointed out some tree roots going down twenty five metres and more in search of the water table. (The one with the green ribbon around it.) The area has subsided due to the overuse of the aquifer, manifesting as broken columns in the caves and a lowering of the Blue Lake at Mount Gambier by two metres in twenty five years. Ironically the whole Cave area uses (undrinkable) bore water.

Once again the Smage has been there before me and has all the vital statistics.

Swam in the Glenelg near the jetty there. Almost no current, few boats, quite peaceful. Jetties are not as useful as boat launches for getting into and out of the water. The idea is to avoid a scramble up a muddy river bank, which is where a concrete boat launch is most helpful.

The campsites at the Cave are fairly pleasant, though the choices seemed to be between ones they were watering and ones with loads of ant nests. There's a single hot shower for each sex, and no potable water. The damage is fourteen bucks a night, which (I now realise) is cheap for several people. A little blue wren joined me for dinner, the bulk of which was Heinz's Butter Chicken soup, not bad keep-alive food.

Slow start. Wow, free wireless on the main drag of Port Fairy (just out the front of The Juice Port). Had a decent coffee at Ramella's. Walked around Griffith Island (lighthouse on the far corner, otherwise a nondescript scrubby sand-dune and bluestone bird sanctuary) and had a quick swim at the Eastern Beach, which was packed. The Victorians put the flags right next to each other and only have one set per beach, not so effective when there is four kilometres of not-so-large surf.

Drove on to Portland, another big city on the Great Ocean Road. Got sidetracked into looking at a fishing spot on the Fitzroy River, but didn't stay long as the stomach was rumbling. I'm really spoilt for choice now with several beautiful spots coming up — the Glenelg River and the Discovery Bay, and all that stuff beyond Mount Gambier.

There's a big windfarm between Port Fairy and Portland, most of which seemed idle. If the little coupling to the grid near the road is for the whole lot of them then it seems to be a lot of engineering for little energy.

Grabbed some lunch at a little café near the bay in Portland, and then had a snorkel off the breakwater on the advice of the very helpful young lady in the info centre there. It's a popular spot for fishing and is quite calm, and indeed there were some fish to be seen. Drove over to the picturesque microtown of Bridgewater for a swim ("One of the (few?) best beaches in Victoria" according to the aforementioned young lady), and hence up to the peninsula to see the seal colony, which turned out to be a two hour hike too far. This is the Petrified Forest ("it's like the surface of the Moon" said the lady in the Port Fairy info centre) and I didn't really see the promised blowhole. This is all part of the Discovery Bay Coastal Park.

After that I made a beeline to Nelson, which is the end of the Great Ocean Road according to the official touring map. I had hoped to spend the night in the Lower Glenelg National Park but had left it a bit late to acquire the requisite permit. Luckily I got a pseudo-site in the picturesque, tiny, secluded and convenient River Vu caravan park, right on the river. (While it was nominally full the French-Canadian hostess allowed me to pitch my small tent on a cheap non-site in the picnic-table area.) Went for a lazy freshwater paddle at the estuary beach on the Oxbow, which is really a kid's beach and suffering somewhat from the drought. Had a few beers and a snapper for dinner at the Nelson Hotel. Talked a bit with some older Melbournians out on a tour, was a banquet to many mosquitoes. A really beautiful little town. (The Smage review is a bit out-of-date. There is an info centre there.)