My epic ocean drive Down Under
The 1,300-miles from Adelaide to Sydney offer awesome glimpses of small town Oz
YOU’RE warned of wallabies, porcupines, possums and (of course) kangaroos. You’re told to beware of sudden high winds and torrential rain. But the real danger on a road trip in Australia is constantly flagged up. ‘Drowsy drivers die’; ‘Droopy eyes? Time for a power nap’, say roadside signs.
The reason is simple: Australia is very, very big. From north to south, it’s 2,400 miles, from east to west 2,500 miles. On a 1,300mile drive from Adelaide in South Australia, via Melbourne in Victoria, to Sydney in New South Wales, you need to keep your wits about you.
Which I’m hoping I have, as I set off in my Toyota hire car, with a burning curiosity about what small town Australia will be like along the way. From Adelaide, South Australia’s charming capital with its indigenous art galleries and vibrant foodie scene, the M1 leads to the B1. Suburbs die away. And you are quickly deep in Australia’s fabled Outback.
There is something liberating as you cross the expanse of emerald landscape, passing occasional farms and one-pub towns. Tractors putter by and cattle graze in mighty pastures. Shrubland unfolds, mile upon uncompromising mile of it.
You pass rolling dunes and the silvery ocean spreads out in front of you. Often the road winds for half an hour at a time without seeing another vehicle. The joy of the journey, though, is not just in the drive. At the end of each day, it’s a pleasure to stop off at little towns such as Robe, population just over 1,500, about 210 miles south of Adelaide on a rugged headland.
In a deserted high street I find the cosy Caledonian Inn, where regulars pause to take in the visiting Pom (me). And the banter, I discover, comes free with the beer. ‘You enjoyin’ the cricket, mate?’ asks the barman, referring to england just losing a Test Match against Australia.
Robe is a sleepy, laidback spot to recharge after the long drive, even though it was once a bustling major port for the export of wool, founded and named after the governor of South Australia Major Frederick Robe in 1845.
It’s like this too in Port Fairy, further east and my next overnight stop-off, once an important whaling station, established in 1835.
The drive takes me past tranquil coves, golden sands and crashing breakers. Arriving in Port Fairy, hardly anyone is about. The little parade of onestorey shops is old-fashioned with awnings, cast-iron pillars and corrugated roofs. Locals are lazily enjoying an Aussie Rules football game on the pub TV.
There’s laughter, chatter, teasing — a fair dinkum (Australian for ‘genuine’) world, a million miles from the Big Smokes of Adelaide, Melbourne and Sydney, although apparently many Melburnians are beginning to buy properties for getaways. ‘Prices have tripled in the past few years,’ says a woman walking her dog. Small town Australia seems increasingly to come with a price tag.
Next I start on 150 miles of the Great Ocean Road. This route takes in dramatic orange-hued cliffs, limestone sinkholes, thunderous bays and the Twelve Apostles, a series of famous rock stacks.
Nearby Apollo Bay is the place to stay, with its fine-sand beach, restaurants, small hotels and pubs. One of these is the Great Ocean Road Brewhouse, which lays claim to being the ‘southernmost pub on mainland Australia’ and offering a ‘husband day-care centre’.
Drive 140 miles northeast from here and you arrive in Melbourne, Australia’s fastest growing and perhaps most exciting city, with its food markets, art galleries, skyscrapers and bustling neighbourhoods of Vietnamese and Chinese restaurants. Quite a culture shock after Robe and Port Fairy.
Then it’s northwards along the coast to Lakes entrance. There’s a little harbour here with boats offering fishing trips for red snapper and gummy sharks. One final outof-the-way spot remains: Bateman’s Bay, with a scattering of oyster joints by the waterside. ‘The best oysters in Australia,’ says the woman serving me at a shack.
Then I hit the highway again. The road winds on, and the suburbs and skyscrapers of Sydney arise. My 1,300 miles are up — and I never did spot a ’roo.