Audrey and The Twelve Apostles

DAY: Four
LOCATION: Melbourne, The Great Ocean Road, Port Campbell

I almost didn’t go to Port Campbell, the place with the cool rocks. While the location itself looked amazing, the process of getting there seemed less appealing. Tours started at 7am, lasted 14 hours, involved far more driving than actual sightseeing, and cost anywhere from $70-$140. Not to mention there was potential for crappy weather, and Aaron did not recommend it – “exhausting and too many tourists.”

Thank god I trusted my instinct and went anyway. It. Was. Spectacular. You don’t make it to the top of Melbourne’s Google sights and earn that many “excellent” TripAdvisor reviews for nothing.

That being said, the morning did start off a bit rough. I enjoyed the crisp walk to St. Paul’s Cathedral (the pick-up point) but it went downhill from there. Any hopes of making new friends on my tour quickly faded, as my fellow adventurers were mostly older groups or younger couples, and many didn’t speak English. My attempts to strike up conversation failed. Oh well, I’ll just enjoy the experience in my own mind, I thought as the buses pulled up to whisk us away.

Everyone except me, that is. I slowly began to panic as guide after guide called out names, filled up their buses, and took off. I double and triple checked my email confirmation, worried I’d been scammed. After all, I had gone for the second cheapest tour, frugal as I am.

“Nah, you’re fine, the bus will come, don’t worry about it,” the last guide reassured me before leaving.

But no bus came. It was now 8am, 45 minutes past pick-up time, and I was crying. The sense of abandonment triggered me horribly, to the point I forgot I had a phone. But then I remembered, and called the tour company. The representative put me on hold, just as a bus came barreling down the street, straight towards me.

“Amy?!” The driver hollered out. I nodded, wiping away tears. “Get in!!”

The group gave me a hearty welcome as I entered, and the guide, Audrey, apologized profusely for leaving me behind. We all had a good laugh about it, and the whole event served as a giant icebreaker. Lemonade from lemons.

As we settled in to the first stretch of highway, Audrey gave us some back story on Victoria and the coast. She was very funny and warm, a natural storyteller, and seemed genuinely happy to be taking us on this journey. Watching the sun break through the clouds over the open plains, I felt happy too.

Our first stop came around 9am, at Urquhart Bluff in Anglesea. We had 30 minutes to look around, grab some coffee, and use the restroom. While most of the bus opted for a caffeine fix, I went straight to the beach, determined to soak up as much sand and limestone as possible.
And how it made my heart soar! I skipped along the shore, grinning at the ridiculously happy dogs racing against the water’s edge, tongues out, ears flapping. Our family dog Max used to do the same thing along the Oregon coast. Sheer freedom and joy. I’d been feeling some of that recently. More and more.

Back on the bus, we officially made it to the Great Ocean Road. The views were stunning. Lush green hills looking out over crystal blue water. We stopped for a couple of photo opps, a flurry of selfies that helped us all laugh at ourselves and bond. It was a nice group.

“You guys see all of the dead trees to the right?” Audrey directed our attention as we snaked along. “There was a fire here last year. Had to shut down the road for a bit. It was pretty bad, destroyed quite a few properties. But you wanna know something interesting? I always thought that would be one of the worst things to happen, having your house burn down. But then, our house burnt down. We lost almost everything. And actually, it was quite liberating! It really wasn’t that bad at all!”

My jaw dropped. I knew I had liked our guide a lot, but I had underestimated her. Not that I can say how I would react to my house burning down, but seeing as how I handled the pick-up situation that morning, it’s pretty safe to say it wouldn’t be like that. Her response was next level zen. I wanted what she had. I knew I needed to talk to her one-on-one.

My opportunity came three stops later, after the koala gazing (so cute!) and bistro lunch (so mediocre!) We were on a short hike through the Lavers Hill rainforest, and I spoke with her at the front of the pack.

“Yeah, I lived all around Australia,” she told me, “and then I met my husband and he had this tour company, so I started doing it with him. We really love it, I get to meet people from all over the world. We spend most of our free time outdoors with our kids. I guess some people might say we live in a bubble, but we’re just really happy.”

“No, I think it’s great!” I replied. “I think us city dwellers are the ones living in a bubble. This–“ I motioned to the forest, “–is the real world, and most of us haven’t the slightest clue how to be within it. Myself included. But man if it doesn’t make me feel alive!” I bounded up the steep muddy path.

We finally reached Port Campbell around 3:30pm, and once again– It. Was. Spectacular. Sure, there were loads of buses and throngs of tourists, but it still couldn’t stop an audible noise escaping from my lips. Gorgeous, epic, breathtaking, stunning, Instaworthy – no adjective can sum it up, no picture can do it justice. You really do have to be there.

We stopped at Loch Ard Gorge first, named after a shipwreck in which all but a young man and woman perished. Standing in the cove with its stalactite cliffs, golden sand, and emerald waters, I found it difficult to picture such tragedy in such paradise. But such is the way of the manifested world – no thing is ever permanent. Nature reminds us best of all, even as we cling to our illusions.* Mountains fall, diamonds don’t last forever, and houses turn to ash. Whether we see it as a death sentence or a liberation? Well, that’s up to us.

I could’ve spent several more hours at the Gorge, but we had one last place to visit: the Twelve Apostles. Oddly misnamed, these eight limestone stacks jut up majestically out of the ocean (there used to be nine but one collapsed in 2005). Limited on time, a sexy Hungarian couple and I ran the path to the ocean, dodging tourists. Down on the beach, we danced on the sand, praising the natural wonder before us. Pure magic.

But this too had to pass. Our time was up, and we had a four hour bus ride to look forward to. As I stared out the window once again, this time watching the sun merge with the horizon, I felt an unbelievable calm. No matter where I am, as long as I’m following my heart, the universe has my back, I thought.

Now if only I could remember that the next time the buses leave without me.

*For an excellent discussion on this, read Emerson’s essay “Experience” from his second series.