Well not to be too one-foot-out-the-door or anything, but holy mackerel this is the last blog post I’ll be writing from abroad. At least for the forseeable future. Our visas are up in September, and Meredith and I are officially booked on a flight to Oahu where we’ll set up shop for a bit and enjoy some life that’s not dictated by the schedules of working holiday visas. Sounds pretty like a pretty good place to set up shop and try to put something resembling a “long-term” plan together to me.
It seems like time has steadily increased its pace as we’ve gone through our travels. From a leisurely stroll in Dunedin, to a lively trot in Wellington, to a breathy gallop in Hobart, and finally to a frenetic sprint as our time comes to a close in Melbourne. Plus with a city of this size, and with this many opportunities, our ‘must hit’ list has grown faster than we’ve been able to check things off it, leading to a nearly panic-inducing sense of time running out. So, it’s been a month for making priorities, making plans, and getting some unmissables checked off.
With another big move coming up, to the notoriously unaffordable Hawiian Islands, Meredith has been in full-on work mode of late, trying to get as much wiggle room in the ol’ budget as she can before we leave our jobs. Fortunately her work has been able to supply the hours, unfortunately that means we’ve been limited to mostly seeing things together around the city. Not that that’s been any sort of disappointment, one epic end to our dry/vego July at a local viking-themed restaurant -Mjolner- was particularly memorable for arguably the best steak I’ve ever enjoyed paired with beer out of proper ale horns. However, this schedule has sent me heading farther afield for some solo journeys to see the most of the Victorian countryside that I can.
“And even then, it’s a bit of a coin toss on the actual day-of weather.”
Now despite the generally mild winter down south planning tips out into the sticks does require a bit of timing and planning, lest you get caught out on particularly squally nights. And even then, it’s a bit of a coin toss on the actual day-of weather. After a week of rain the weather opened up a bit so I set my sights north west to one of Victoria’s most famous national parks, The Grampians.
This craggy little range rises abruptly from the wide open plains providing a little island of preserved nature in a country of stretching farmlands. The mountains are famous for their wide vistas and granite formations that draw hikers and rock climbers from around the world. Being the middle of wet winter I opted for a hike around to see what all the fuss was about. While certainly the views out into the country were impressive, and the peaks held on to swirling banks of cloud lent the whole scene an aire of “Misty Mountains”, what really set the place apart for me were the deep canyons that cut through the slabs of rock.
“The trail all but disappeared as every surface was either slick rock or running water and the cliffs climbed higher on either side.”
One track in particular, that took me from the little adventure town of Halls Gap up through the valleys and to the aptly named ‘Pinnacle’, left me very impressed. It started with a rivulet jumping and splashing down the solid slabs of rock creating swirling pools, but the higher I climbed the deeper the water carved. Halfway up the mountain I entered Victoria’s “Grand Canyon”. The trail all but disappeared as every surface was either slick rock or running water and the cliffs climbed higher on either side. Up and up it wound as the rivulet reduced to a trickle and then to nothing leaving ever tightening walls until one final squeeze through a proper slot popped me out nearly all the way at the pinnacle. Now that’s a hike that pays some dividends.
“Standing out on this exposed strip of land jutting into the Bass Strait the skies were dotted with clouds and the wind dropped as I neared the coast like the ocean was holding it’s breath for me.”
A few weeks after The Grampians the weather cleared for me again and I set sights in the opposite direction south and east to the southernmost tip of mainland AUS, Wilson’s Promontory. The prom is an isolated peninsula a couple hours out of Melbourne that’s covered entirely by a national park, so I thought it seemed the perfect place to try my luck with a little midwinter backpacking. I lined up a lively overnighter out to Refuge Cove that would cover a good portion of the peninsula.
Fortunately I hit the weather perfectly, to an almost unbelievable degree. Standing out on this exposed strip of land jutting into the Bass Strait the skies were dotted with clouds and the wind dropped as I neared the coast like the ocean was holding it’s breath for me. True to form though, as I sit here now writing another storm is lashing the park driving home the point of my luck. Regardless of good timing I wasn’t going to get the experience many go to Wilson’s Prom for: beach life; ringed by untouched, white beaches and the nation’s largest marine preserve most come in summer for the best beaches in the state. I went expecting some good wildlife, and serene coast even if I wasn’t to be tempted with a swim at any point.
“Wilson’s Prom looked positively prehistoric.”
As advertised each headland I rounded revealed yet another stretch of white sand and aqua waters devoid of any sign of man. But what really had me head over heels was the interior of the park. It was considerably more mountainous than I’d thought and with untouched, native eucalypt forest covering every inch of the dramatic hills (and nothing to be seen but open ocean in the other direction) Wilson’s Prom looked positively prehistoric. And while I may not have wanted a swim, a swim wanted me. I was warned of a tidal creek crossing in the middle of the first day by a helpful ranger (missed that on the track description) and of course I showed up almost perfectly at high tide but with daylight a burning I had no choice but to get a move on. So I stripped from the waist down and loaded everything in my pack and get to wading. Fortunately, there was no one at the campground across the river to laugh at the spectacle and the waters were only dick deep. Oh the things I’ll do for dry clothes!
So now you’re up to date as we face down our final couple weeks here in the big smoke, which I’m sure will pass in a blink. At the end of the month we’ll be packing up all of our worldly possessions once again into Dolores and heading up the coast. We’re planning a big road trip up possibly as far as Byron Bay to see some more of those classic Aussie sights, but I’ll get to writing about all that once we’re in Hawaii! Until then it’s just a matter of truly savoring these last precious days.
