Great Otway National Park stretches from Torquay along the Great Ocean Road, winding deep into the Otway hinterland, before culminating at Princetown on its western boundary. A landscape of striking contrasts, it is characterised by rugged coastline, sandy beaches, lush ancient forest, fern-filled gullies, cascading waterfalls and winding trails. Spanning more than 1,000 km, it’s where coast meets forest in a gorgeous display of primaeval wilderness.
Apollo Bay, one of the gateways to the Otways, was our base for exploring this amazing corner of Victoria. We stayed in a cosy cottage with countryside views just outside of town, where a lively cast of resident birds kept us entertained daily, strutting their stuff along the deck rail, boldly demanding birdseed. It was the perfect place for a sundowner after a hectic day’s sightseeing.
Unbeknownst to us, on the day we were off to explore the Otways, there was a major cycling event at Apollo Bay and one of the main roads was closed. Little Miss Google Maps was clearly on crack when she directed us to Killala Road, a 14 km stretch of dirt road, straight up the guts of the forest, the goat track to hell!
Climbing steeply and winding precariously through the Otway Ranges, the 28 km’s from Apollo Bay to the Redwood Forest was less a drive than a psychological endurance test. My son and I had our sympathetic nervous systems fully activated, vocal cords in screech mode, shoulders jammed up around our ears, as we white-knuckled it, lurching along an unsealed cattle track of blind corners and highly boggable bits. Jay-sus, I’m slipping into a trauma response just writing about it. Suffice to say, by the time we hit Binns Road, we were both on our last nerve.
We popped out through an open gate on Binns Road like we had just left the enchanted forest, and when I turned back, there were signs saying “Road Closed”. Those signs might have been nice at the other end, eh?
This approach took us to the Redwood Forest first. I had gee’d my son up for some big tree parkour, a-la Twilight, even to the point of working out how to slow-mo and fast-mo my videos, but he wouldn’t do it (sad face.) As the maker of the itinerary, the hellish road tip rendered me persona non grata at that time.
Planted in 1936 with trees soaring past 60 metres high, the Redwood Otways is one of two famous Redwood Forests in Victoria. Flanking the mystical Aire River, the walk among the Sequoia Sempervirens was both surreal and reverent. Sunlight filtered through gaps between these towering behemoths, casting long golden beams and dappling the forest floor as the canopy shifted overhead. Tranquil, spiritual, utterly immersive – a delicious assault on the senses.
On to Hopetoun Falls, where an impressive torrent majestically plummets 30 metres into the Aire River below. You can admire the falls from the upper viewing platform, but the real reward is the descent, some 200 steps into a shadowy labyrinth of ancient tree ferns. The trail is glossy and green, awash with vibrant mosses, colourful fungi and shaded by massive fronds, and you can hear the welcome roar of the falls long before you see them.
A longer trail, Beauchamp Falls is 3 km out and back, the track descending gently through mountain ash, blackwood and myrtle beech trees, interspersed with massive ancient tree ferns. The falls crash powerfully over a sheer rock ledge, sending an elegant curtain of water 20 metres into a serene, fern-fringed pool below. Deeply ensconced in a lush, prehistoric rainforest gully, it gives mystical forest feels.
Heading back to Melbourne, we swapped the inland route for the Great Ocean Road, and OMG! Forty-five kilometres of sublimity (yep, that’s a word), the stretch from Apollo Bay to Lorne is Australia’s answer to Italy’s Amalfi Coast. The road clings to sheer cliffs, winding through tight bends and opening onto sweeping ocean views with vertiginous drop-offs plunging towards the abyss. I could bang on about it for hours, but some experiences have to be lived. So, GO!
