Great Ocean Road and Castlemaine

Content warning (animal death) for 4th image in this post.​

Two excellent day trips outside of Melbourne were my introduction to the greater region of Victoria. The first was a trip to the Great Ocean Road, an iconic Australian drive known for its coastal scenery. The second was a train journey to the historic gold rush town of Castlemaine, now an arts hub.

The Great Ocean Road trip was one of those beautiful opportunities that came up unexpectedly. A few days in advance, I got a text from JC – one of my acquaintances from the Tuesday barmeet. His mom was visiting from the Philippines, and he invited me to join their day trip, correctly guessing that I was interested in seeing the Great Ocean Road. It was super thoughtful. Every time I thanked him, he shrugged it off with a humble remark about it being more efficient to go together.
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JC had a full plan for the day, with regular stops that divided up the 6 hours of driving. On the itinerary was a good mix of famous viewpoints and lesser-known spots. We agreed on an early start, leaving Melbourne at 6 am under cover of darkness, while the possums were still out playing.

​We drove the circuit in reverse, heading west through the inland route in the morning, and returning east along the coast in the afternoon. The backcountry roads were uncrowded, though we did encounter a few trains barreling towards the rising sun.

​The first stop was a hilly viewpoint in an area called Red Rock, formed by volcanic activity.  The parking lot was empty, except for a row of dead foxes lined up on a stone wall, which was a bit shocking. The corpses seemed fresh, but there was no one around. I'm guessing they were being redeemed for a bounty, as bounty programs exist in Victoria for foxes and wild dogs. We tried not to dwell on it, and ascended a staircase to a viewing platform. ​It was a chilly morning, with clouds partially obscuring the early sun. The smooth hills were a golden hue, and there was a permanent lake in the distance.

​The next stop was at an unassuming blue church, but this was no ordinary church. No, it was a Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster! Home of the Pastafarians, a parody religion with playfully irreverent beliefs. The owner emerged holding pirate hats, a reference to the Pastafarian belief that humans are descended from pirates. A pamphlet explained, “in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was ‘Arrrgh!’ -  Piraticus 13:7.” At the same time, the owner strongly emphasized that wearing a colander on the head, sometimes associated with Pastafarianism, is not actually part of the belief system. It was a hilarious and unexpected part of the day’s adventure!

​Reaching the coast, we arrived at the Twelve Apostles, the famous sandstone stacks. While there aren’t twelve, and perhaps never were, the constant erosion of the cliffs means that the landscape is merely a snapshot in time. In 1990, two tourists were stranded on Australia’s newest island when an arch collapsed. Smaller stacks were reclaimed by the sea in 2005 and 2009. And there is potential for new Apostles to form in the future. On this particular day, it was cloudy, windy,  and a bit rainy, so no postcard views, but the Apostles were still stunning.

After this brief taste of the coast, we turned back inland and traversed dirt mountain roads towards Erskine Falls. JC had never been this way before but seemed to take the rough terrain in stride. In this remote stretch of forest, we encountered a few wallabies and wedge-tailed eagles.
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The waterfalls were pleasant, framed with mossy cliffs and old-growth ferns. JC and I hiked down to the base of the falls while Connie stayed at the upper viewing platform. Connie used her cane to retrieve a beautiful blue bird feather that I spotted in the brush but had been out of reach, which was a sweet gesture. We stopped to eat our lunch in a dedicated picnic area, livening up the meal by trading bits of the prepared food we each brought.

​The road descended from the mountains and into the town of Lorne, where we reunited with the main Great Ocean Road. The clouds had started to disperse, and it was a delightful time to be driving along the ocean. We stopped at the Memorial Arch, where a plaque explained that the original road had been constructed by WWI veterans as part of a public works initiative. The beach was gorgeous, with so many shades of blue spread across the shallows, depths, and skies.

​JC had a trick up his sleeve – the car was a convertible, and he lowered the roof for the next segment of the drive! Earlier in the day, I had been concerned we wouldn’t get enough time on the coast, but my concerns floated away in the breeze.

Speaking of the breeze, at Split Point, the gusts were so powerful that my hat was whisked over the edge of the platform and into the plants below. Thankfully, there was a way to walk under the platform and retrieve it. The viewing platform was a great vantage to appreciate the sea stacks and lighthouse. It was my favorite stop of the day. Apparently, Split Point was the filming location for a supernatural kids TV show from the 90’s called Round the Twist, a bit like an Australian version of Goosebumps.

​An excellent addition to the itinerary was the Great Ocean Road Chocolaterie, with an impressive selection of chocolate products, ice cream, and café goods. I was tempted to buy a chocolate kangaroo for Easter. Instead, I devoured a generous scoop of Rocky Road, while Connie and JC had cake slices and a flavored milk drink that came with a little pitcher of syrup. Outside, there was playground for kids to run off their sugar high, and some funny dessert-inspired kangaroo statues.

The final drive back into Melbourne was uneventful. I was amazed at JC’s driving endurance, and appreciated the chance to doze a bit. We arrived at his place in the Docklands around 6 pm, a full 12-hour day. Even though we covered a lot of ground, I still viewed this journey as a first taste of the Great Ocean Road – a “rekkie” (reconnaissance) as the Aussies would say. I hope to return for more.
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A few days later, I met Reggie at the Southern Cross Station for a day trip to Castlemaine. At the station, we met up with Reggie’s friend and mentor David, who lives in Castlemaine and happened to be in Melbourne at the time. David was friendly and laid back. He also met many of the stereotypes of a disorganized but brilliant artist. He had lost his wallet earlier, and appeared with a ticket just in time to catch the train. Partway through the ride, he took a few droplets of CBD tincture from small bottle in his black leather jacket. As the rural scenery rolled by, the three of us chatted about David’s creative work, US politics, cannabis laws, and the names of the mountains. Occasionally, he would take out a notebook and jot down phrases he liked from the conversation. ​

​It was an easy 1.5-hour train ride. David headed home, while Reggie and I went for brunch at Saff’s Café. I had a nice Reuben and a flat white. Later, we checked out a cute bookstore and an op shop with lots of vintage goods. Castlemaine had that quintessential historic small-town charm, with antiquated but tasteful buildings from its glory days, independent shops, a cinema, and a quiet pulse of traffic. The real estate listings in the window were surprisingly expensive; apparently Castlemaine was a popular place for Melburnians to move during the COVID lockdown era.

In the afternoon, we met up with Reggie’s friend Beverley, a delightful lady who greeted me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Bev was recovering from a shoulder injury but had just started driving again. We hopped in her car and headed towards her place in the neighboring town of Chewton, population 763. Along the way, we stopped at the Monster Meeting site, where in 1851 the gold miners organized to protest the government’s plan to increase mining license fees.

We spent a few hours chatting in Bev’s comfortable house. It was filled with international art, skylights, ceiling fans, and gentle music: an improvised jazz album by The Necks. Her hospitality was phenomenal, serving us delicious homemade gazpacho and the best chai tea I’ve ever had. I learned that Bev runs small group tours in India and had a wonderful story about the tiny shop where she purchased the tea. 

​She was also kind enough to bring out some of her own artwork, surreal images including a house on wheels on the edge of the water, inspired by a dream. The kinds of images people might nowadays generate using AI, but created long before AI. We took turns suggesting various interpretations of each.

​Later, Bev took us for a spontaneous historical tour of the area. We stopped at Specimen Gully, where gold was first discovered in Victoria in 1851. Gold had been discovered in New South Wales earlier in the year, and in response, the Victorian government offered a reward for finding a gold field near Melbourne. Sure enough, it was found a few months later. Also at the historic site was a cottage made of high-quality slate, built in the 1870s. While we were inspecting the cottage, a second car arrived, a grandpa taking his grandkids for an outing. Bev gave them directions, learned all their names, asked one of the kids about her arm cast (she had fallen off a horse), and encouraged them to take a picture of the info sign on their way out. It was a wholesome interaction: small-town camaraderie.

​Continuing the drive through sparsely populated dirt roads, we stopped at an unmarked site Bev knew of, the Ochre Pits, where First Nations people sourced ochre for their painting. The colorful landscape was rugged and otherworldly, with exposed tree roots wrapping around the eroded rock faces. Within the crevices, I could see swirls of dark red among the oranges and yellows, a geologic prosciutto. As Bev put it, welcome to “Planet Australia.”

Reggie and I bid farewell to Bev, bought sandwiches at a surprisingly large IGA grocery store, and rushed to catch the next train back to Melbourne. Always keen for wildlife, I spotted a few kangaroos resting in the shade of the otherwise sparse bushland. Soon we were back at Southern Cross.

Since it was a Tuesday night, Reggie and I stopped by the usual barmeet, conveniently a few blocks from the station. My throat was dry and dusty from the day in Castlemaine, and even a refreshing pint of Tiger beer wasn’t enough remedy. I headed back to my apartment to properly hydrate and recover.
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I’m so grateful to JC, Reggie, and Beverley for welcoming me into their adventures, and helping me experience rural Victoria. Though only a day’s journey from Melbourne, the Great Ocean Road and Castlemaine were a world away, and a welcome change of scenery.