6 Feb: Apollo Bay to Peterborough

I went for a ride around Apollo Bay before we left.

There wasn't a lot to Apollo Bay, but the shoreline was pretty.

This is the one that tried to get away, but they caught it and nailed it to the back of the fish and chip shop.

Leaving town, the road wandered up through the hills, taking a break from it's Great Ocean persona.

We had smoko at Laver's Hill. It was cold.  "Where's summer gone?" wailed Roger.

In the spirit of not traveling very fast at all, we stopped at Princeton for a sticky beak.  There wasn't much at Princeton either, but the loo had a fantastic view so here is the best loo-view on the Great Ocean Road.

The next stretch of the Great Ocean Road contained the places usually associated with the Road: the 12 11 10 9 8 (I think) Apostles, Gibson's Steps, London once-was-a Bridge, and The Grotto. Last time we were there the road was clogged with buses, the lookouts clogged with tourists, and you could barely hear the surf of the southern Ocean for the clatter of sight seeing helicopters overhead.

Expecting more of the same, we were pleasantly surprised to find that the busloads of tourists were not present and there were, indeed, surprising few tourists even at the most popular spots, with the exception of Gibson's Steps. 

 

At Gibsons Steps the game of 'Spot the Instagrammer' came into its own. Along with everyone else we maneuvered delicately to avoid being in the background of too many photographs, all seeking to give the impression that the beach was deserted apart form us. 

We took a quick look at the rock arch that was once London Bridge,

and ignored the Grotto altogether because the tide was low and we'd been there before.

We had lunch at Port Campbell, crossed the river by the suspension bridge, and climbed the steps (more steps!) to the lookout.

 

And then we were finally at the (uncertain number of) Apostles, where we took a dutiful photo and debated how big a rock has to be before it counts as an Apostle.

Do those jumbled rocks in the surf count as an Apostle?  

A very kind lady took a photo of both of us together, in the same picture.  With an unknown number of rock apostles in the background.

And we visited the site of once-was London Bridge, causing Roger to reminisce fondly of walking across the bridge back in the long-ago days of his youth.

Once a bridge.  Now an island.  Or an Apostle?

We didn't stay in Port Campbell, pretty as it was, because it's such a popular spot to stay that it had priced itself out of our consideration. Instead we carried on to Peterborough, on the mouth of the Curdies River, where we could rent another broom cupboard for me to work in.

Mouth of the Curdies River.

It was a nice broom cupboard though. The Curdies River curled right past the park, and the beach was just over the road. The park was almost empty and the amenities were spotless. Best if all, there was a wide selection in the book-swapping library. It was good to know that I was back in the world where every caravan park laundry could be relied on to provide a good book for the night.