It was meant to be an idyllic day for a wedding anniversary, one that we would remember for the rest of our days – we had arrived in Apollo Bay the previous afternoon and were about to have our first taste of the Great Ocean Road that stretches for a couple of hundred kms west of Melbourne and is said to be one of Australia’s finest scenic routes with a fascinating history. It would take us to the famed Twelve Apostles where we anticipated pulling off the road at a convenient spot to view this natural spectacle. 

We were also counting on there being a selection of delightful restaurants along the way, where we could choose to celebrate our significant day in style with a memorable lunch and, on the way back, we looked forward to spoiling ourselves with a late afternoon tea and perhaps a sweet treat at a pleasant café.

We awoke full of anticipation for the day ahead – the overcast weather with squalls of rain was not ideal but did not put us off from our plans. Soon we were heading westwards out of Apollo Bay on the B100 – the Great Ocean Road – except there was no ocean to be seen as the road threaded its way through mostly forested countryside.

In fact, this was the way it stayed for the entire day other than a deviation to check out Cape Otway Lighthouse and on the final approach to the 12 Apostles. It crossed my mind that calling this stretch the “Great Forest Road” would make a lot more sense.

Before long the turnoff to Cape Otway lighthouse loomed which seemed worth a visit and we drove along a narrow road lined with tall trees and fields for 12 km to the entrance.

Our first sight of the sea since leaving Apollo Bay

My only bird sighting of note from the cliffs was a lifer –

A short walk in light drizzle took us to the unimposing restaurant – the limited choice of basic dishes and the canteen-like feel was not quite what we had in mind, but we weren’t sure where the next opportunity would be and being quite peckish we ordered 2 beef pies and coffees at the counter.

The pies came on paper plates and we had to fetch our cutlery at a communal table in the next room, after which we tucked into our anniversary lunch seated on a bench at the front window – well at least we had a view of the lighthouse.

As it turned out the pie was delicious and filling, but left us hoping that our afternoon tea would be a bit more stylish and appropriate to the occasion.

I took advantage of a break in the rain to walk to the historic lighthouse and climb the narrow spiral stairway and a final steep ladder to the top where an outside platform, buffeted by strong wind which threatened to unbalance me, afforded spectacular views up and down the rugged coastline.

I descended carefully and returned to the restaurant to collect Gerda and we were soon back at the car and on our way to the main road – next stop Twelve Apostles, which we expected to be fairly quiet – after all it was a low season weekday and poor weather to boot. After negotiating more twisty, forest-lined roads for the next hour and a half, we emerged closer to the coast and soon passed the first small parking area for those wanting to view the Twelve Apostles, noticed it seemed full and hoped there would be others along the road. As it turned out there was just one more parking area and as we turned off we found it to be vast and packed with cars, buses and crowds of people jostling for the toilets and spots to take cellphone selfies.

We sat dumbstruck in the car for a minute or two, seriously contemplating leaving without seeing the famous sight – fortunately good reason prevailed and we joined the throngs on the 10 minute walk to the viewing platform, where I threaded my way between more selfie-taking tourists crowding the deck and walkway until I found a gap where I could take in the unique beauty of this natural feature, frame and take a few photos.

We were in need of some refreshment but my crowd phobia had kicked in and the busy canteen was not particularly inviting, so we left, relieved to get away from so much frenzied tourist-ing.

Before long our thoughts turned to the hoped for tea venue – full of hope we popped into Princetown just off the B100, only to find it was the classic one-horse town whose only horse had apparently bolted – the only café was closed.

I was also watching the car’s info panel which was showing a depleted petrol tank with less kms left than we still had to travel – no reason to stress as there was bound to be a convenient petrol station – except I could not remember seeing one on the way there. After a half an hour of tense driving we entered the town of Laver’s Hill and were relieved to see a petrol pump outside a wooden shack with its door hanging open and keys dangling in the lock – but our relief was short-lived as there was not a soul to be seen anywhere nearby. Had we entered some sort of a ghost town?

We carried on down the main street and at the end of the small town we pulled in at a café with an old-fashioned, somewhat rusty petrol pump in front of its door. Gerda was convinced it was a museum piece placed there for show but the young lady inside assured us it was working, so after finding out how to operate it (no such thing as a petrol attendant in Australia) I quickly filled up the tank and we could relax again.

The same charming young lady sold us a fresh- looking slice of apple pie each to go with our take away teas, which we enjoyed at a rough wooden table next to the petrol pump and a large garbage bin. Despite the surroundings, the apple pie was so good we went back for seconds!

The rest of the trip back to Apollo Bay went smoothly and we arrived after dark – the day had been eventful but one thing we knew – we would not be forgetting it soon!