the GREAT OCEAN ROAD

Right when I began perfecting my wine-pouring skills and came to the realization that I need to actually do schoolwork, Easter Break came around transforming me from a diligent university student back to a backpacker.

Classes started in the beginning of March with Easter Break happening a mere two weeks after, so any travel plans had to be made quickly. Some students ventured to Cairns to get a gander at the Great Barrier Reef, and others went to New Zealand for a zippy weeklong tour. My roommate Laura, our friend Dana, and I decided on a much more independent and less costly excursion: taking a road trip down the Great Ocean Road.

What can normally be accomplished in a couple of days, the Great Ocean Road is the drive that must be done in one’s lifetime and, if adequately researched, is well worth a whole week. As I told the people who informed us it could be done in a weekend, “We’re taking our sweet ass time.”

And I couldn’t be happier that we did.

Melbourne to Torquay

We decided Laura was the most responsible out of the three of us when she booked the rental car, all of the hostels, and penned the agenda for the entire trip, so she became the trusted driver in our new rental car appropriately dubbed Napoleon. She braved the left-hand side of the road with trams whizzing around as we waved g’bye to Melbourne.

Our first stop was Torquay, which hosts the Rip Curl Pro Surf Competition on Easter Weekend. If you want to attend this event, book accommodation well ahead or else you might have to take refuge in the backseat of your Napoleon, like one of the girls almost did. We set our bags down on Friday in the sketchy dorm-style bunk at Bells Beach a bit suspicious. But when backpackers from the U.K., New Zealand, and parts of Australia greeted us our worries diminished and we felt right at home (not to mention we all bonded over a few coldies).

Saturday we took the free shuttle to Bells Beach to see Pros like Kelly Slater and Steph Gilmore ride the massive waves with their eyes set on the Bell Trophy, a prestigious award for any surfer. The remainder of the weekend we emptied our pockets in some of Torquay’s factory surf outlets and rented some wet suits and boards and hit the shores ourselves.

Torquay’s nightlife is usually minimal, but the comp brought in surfers from all over the globe along with popular DJs like John Course. Beware, the bars take advantage of this event to tack on a hefty cover fee. Chilling on the lawn on our hostel after a barbie made a good enough night for us.Hangin out with fellow backpackersIt's a surfer's dream to ring this bell

Rent some wetsuits & boards from Go-Ride-a-Wave and head down to Torquay Beach. Get ready to eat some salt water.

Torquay to Lorne

On Monday morning we checked out of our hostel with teary eyes. It felt like leaving summer camp. I exchanged information with some of the backpackers so we could be Facebook friends forever and we hit the road.

Dana and I took turns flipping through our Let’s Go Guidebook marking must-see places for the rest of our trip, but were distracted from the breath-taking scenery during the drive. The winding road carves along the cliffs overlooking the turquoise ocean sprinkled in rock formations. There are plenty of lookout points to stop and snap and couple of pictures including Point Addis and the Split Point Lighthouse at Airie’s Inlet.

Backpackers swarm to Lorne to hike through the luscious Great Otway National Park, a rainforest terrain which holds a variety of waterfalls, one of the most popular being Erskine Falls. Even with Bells Beach hangovers, the girls and I convinced ourselves to trek to some of the sites. I couldn’t quite convince myself to be in complete awe by such natural beauty. I felt like I was in the Rainforest Café sans the plastic animals everywhere.

When the rain started a-pourin’ the three of us decided to call it an early night and enjoyed our personal room in our hillside hostel. The next morning we learned that a freakish guest decided to join our slumber party. A huntsman spider, about the size of my hand, crawled into our room to escape the rain. Though huntsman are harmless, they are scary as hell, so we screamed until I ran to reception to grab a brave blonde who killed it with a broomstick.

Lorne to Apollo Bay

Shaken up from the spider incident, we made our way to Apollo Bay. I calmed my arachnophobic shock by doing some quick yoga at Marriner’s Lookout and chilling at the beach before grabbing a $5 toasted sandwich at the Bayleaf Café. We drove to some touristy spots like the Great Otway Lighthouse and the Otway Fly Treetop Walk. Unfortunately, the lighthouse was surrounded by a fence and charged an unexpected entrance fee, and I told the girls I didn’t want to pay for the Tree Top Walk when in reality I knew I would’ve had a panic attack (I’m afraid of heights). But to the hour-long drive out of Apollo became a worthwhile trip to me when Laura chased a waddling koala across the road to get a picture.

Marriner's Lookout

Apollo Bay to Port Campbell to Warrnambool

Laura told us it was going to be a long day. In true rainforest fashion it poured, making it a long day full of bitching. We began marking off our list of must-sees at the “Big Tree” in Otway National Park. We considered saying to hell with it when the rain shifted from a light sprinkle to a frigid downpour, but toughed it up to make the 1.5 km walk through the rainforest to get to the tree.

Mud splashed on the back of my jeans as we made the 20-minute walk in silence. I kept thinking to myself, “I’m not in Rainforest Café, I’m not in Rainforest Café,” repeatedly until a sign told us we were in front of the Big Tree.

“Wow,” I said. “A tree.”

Laura got really excited and told me it was 300 years old. Dana complained that she was really cold and wanted to go back.

Back in Napoleon we blasted the heat and Dana and I stayed in the car sighing at the sky as Laura made a bunch of other stops to take pictures of rocks in the ocean. Of course we had to get out of the car to see the famous Twelve Apostles 12 km east of Port Campbell but sprinted through heaps of tourists to get back to the car when the skies opened up again.

The Twelve Apostles

Between Port Campbell and Warrnambool we stopped at Childer’s Cove, a series of beautiful beaches located sort of “off the map.” Laura navigated us through the farm roads as I kept a close lookout for signs. The sun came out and the clouds disappeared. Unlike the other attractions, no tourist was in site at this spot and we were able to truly revel in the beauty of the orange limestone and crashing waves by ourselves. It was perfect.

Once we arrived to our hostel in Warrnambool we were beat and played British Monopoly until it reached an appropriate time to go out. We spent the night enjoying live music at Seanchai Irish Pub which is popular among university students who attend the nearby marine-biology school.

Childer's Cove

Warrnabool to Melbourne

The end of our trip had come. Going back to Melbourne meant assessment time at university and a long weekend of working at the bar for me. We weren’t the happiest kids on the block, but knew that we couldn’t stay on the Great Ocean Road forever. Napoleon was returned as we crossed our fingers hoping they wouldn’t charge us for the piles of sand scattered in the car.

Laura, Dana, and I grabbed some cheap Melbourne sushi and reflected on our travels.

And then I followed my I-do-weird-things-when-I-return-from-backpacking tradition and drank a whole liter of milk.