5 Days Around Victoria – Victoria, Australia

By: Douglas Spadotto

5 Days Around Victoria
Victoria, Australia

It all started some months ago, when I saw a good deal for a motorcycle rental in the Internet. I booked, paid the deposit, confirmed the pick-up date. Everything through the Web. It almost didn’t feel real.

But it felt real indeed, when I woke up at 4:30 a.m. (actually 4:37, because I never use round numbers on the alarm clock) to go to Melbourne. I took the airport shuttle to the, you guessed, the airport, went into a Virgin Blue flight and arrived in 50 minutes.

10 minutes of waiting and I was picked up by the guy from the rental place, only to discover that Castlemaine wasn’t a Melbourne suburb, instead it was 100 kilometers north of Melbourne. See how well prepared I was for this trip.

After paperwork and some ceremony, I was in Castlemaine (the rental place was in a farm outside of the city). I drove around and ended up in Maldon, ‘Australia’s First Notable Town’. A very weird title, that got my attention. It turned out to be a quaint countryside town, nothing more. The lady from the visitor centre said that it was notable because it got this title from the Government because the city didn’t change much in the last 200 years. Sounded far-fetched, but it was a pretty town.

On my way back to Castlemaine, I almost fell off the bike when I saw two ostriches and a couple of replicas of the Xi’an warriors in a farm. There must be a Feng Shui explanation for it.

During the afternoon I walked in Castlemaine, looking at the old buildings, and couldn’t escape the museum and spent almost 3 hours inside. In the end of the afternoon I sat on a bench and saw the people going around in their business. It was a modern city after all. But when my line of sight went a little up from the shops, I could see the ’signatures’ on the buildings from the 1800s, and thought about a time when the life wasn’t so fast paced, even with the gold rush.

In Castlemaine I was first introduced to the character of Major Mitchell, a guy who explored all of Victoria. Well-educated chap, named everything with names inspired in the Classical period (’Mount Alexander’, ‘Campedeon River’, etc.). I need to read his diaries, maybe to learn a better style of travel writing.

I ended up sleeping pretty early, and woke up around 10 p.m. I read, and when I got bored I turned on the TV (I got a free stay on a cabin together with the motorcycle rental). Saw the ending of a Jackie Chan movie and a Dogma 95 movie called ‘Fuckland’ (about an Argentinian going to the Falklands. Got the joke in the title now?). Weird stuff in another sleepless night, and I ended up sleeping again only after 2 a.m.

The next day I was up at 6, packed up everything after coffee and stole the teas bags and coffee and sugar envelopes and a roll of toilet paper from the cabin, which was avenged by God afterwards, as you’ll see.

I went to Bendigo, another gold rush town, that’s bigger than Castlemaine. Visited some of the attractions (the Chinese garden was the best, where I lighted up an incense for Guan Yin), got lost trying to find a place to park the motorcycle, and decided to move on.

But I moved on the wrong direction, and went to Eaglehawk trying to get to Maryborough. Turned around and went via a secondary road to Maryborough. This road was beautiful, surrounded by pastures and canola fields in full bloom. The green pasture, the yellow fields and the blue sky reminded me of the Brazilian flag. Even the sheep in the pastures could be seen as the stars on my flag. The only thing left was a plane passing by with the writing: ‘Ordem e Progresso’.

From Maryborough on to Ararat, a city that I decided to visit only to find out the origin of its name. I arrived to the place and nobody could tell me. They only said that ‘It must have been named by Major Mitchell’. There he goes again.

Maybe he named it Ararat to fix the loophole of kangaroos and marsupials in the Noah’s Arc. If it floated only around the Middle East, how would the kangaroos have got there?

The plan here was to go to Ballarat to close the ‘gold rush cycle’ and then down to the Great Ocean Road. But in the visitor centre I found a flyer about an Aboriginal culture centre. I asked where it was, and was pointed in the direction of Hall’s Gap, 40 kilometers from Ararat.

There I went again. Even before arriving on Ararat I could see lots of mountains forming in the horizon. I filled up the tank in Moyston, the birthplace of Australian Football (with all that beauty around it, instead of starting a new art style they made up this sport, that I still don’t get), and got another map from the station keeper, even without asking, and he said that there were good tracks to follow in Hall’s Gap. ‘Tracks?’, I thought. I am going there for the Aboriginal site and coming back.

I was sorely mistaken. Arriving in Hall’s Gap I was overwhelmed by the scenery. I can’t describe it in words, and even the pictures won’t make justice to the place. After a visit to the Aboriginal Centre, I found a place to camp deep into the park (I didn’t know that I had to pay to camp up until the next day).

I lighted a fire and ate beans, in the best bushman tradition. The bread got the perfume from the toilet paper because they where stored close to one another. It was God’s revenge for my sin of stealing.

Slept on the open for a while, watching the stars and hearing the fire crackling. Woke up freezing, and went to the tent to freeze in a more private space. Froze until the next morning, cursing the huge tent for not holding heat.

Beginning at 6 a.m., I started to do off-road in the park, almost running over emus and kangaroos and wallabies (the black kangaroos! I got them on film now!). Breathtaking landscapes. At around 9 a.m. the park was beginning to fill with tourists, then I went back to the camp, packed up and got out.

The plan was to go using some tracks inside the park until I ended up near Cavendish. But I failed to se that one of the tracks was closed and also made a wrong turn that took me back almost where I started. I turned around and proceeded straight south, to Dunkeld.

I was running out of petrol at this stage, without any spare canisters. One city on the map turned out to be only a school and a water tank. The landscape after the National Park was beautiful in another way, with the huge mountains in the background of green pastures and beautiful country houses.

Here I stopped because I saw something on the side of the road. An eqüidna! I don’t know how I spotted it at 90 kilometers/hour, but I did. I pursued the little one on foot and it got scared and burrowed its face. I moved away a little, and took a picture from a more respectable distance. Pretty cool animal. Now all that’s left is the Tasmanian devil and the platypus (and about 3000 bird species, 20 kangaroo ones, 3 types of crocodile and about 70000 species of eucalyptus) and I got the whole Australian fauna and flora covered.

With the reserve switch on for about 20 kilometers, I reached Dunkeld, and filled up looking at the mountains that offered such beautiful views in the previous day. I spilled petrol, distracted with the beauty.

There I asked the lady from the petrol station to which direction was Port Fairy. I was in the middle of countryside Australia and asking for the coast. She looked puzzled. I looked serious, even though covered in dust and all scruffy looking.

It was a straight line from Dunkeld to the Great Ocean Road. At least in the map. The truth was that it had some intersections to watch out for. But even the bad weather (it started raining, and the wind was strong and chilly) didn’t keep me from reaching some speeds that this kind of bike was not designed to reach.

Almost freezing again (I only had a leather jacket and gloves. I rode all the time in jeans and tennis shoes), I reached Port Fairy. Ate a specially oily fish n’chips at around 4 p.m. Stretched in the pier, trying to warm up. Without success.

Stopped at an Irish historic village called Koroit near Port Fairy, and kept going until the 12 Apostles marine park. Right on time for the sunset amongst the rocks. I prefer the ‘Bay of Islands’ better than the 12 Apostles, I don’t know why. (a note: this was my fifth time in the Great Ocean Road since I came here. The first on a motorcycle though).

Paid the most for petrol in Pt. Campbel. 119 cents. From there I moved fast (I knew all the places already, and went there just to enjoy the curvy road) to Apollo Bay, where I sipped hot chocolate to try to defrost.

My objective was to go to Lorne for the night. Riding at night in the Great Ocean Road is fun. Dangerous, but fun. Darkness from the right side of the road was bottomless, and I thought that Cthulhu himself would come out and drive me map with its hideous figure.

I arrived in Lorne and broke in the camping site, because the offices were unattended. I slept soundly until the next morning, when I slipped before anyone could see me. I stayed in Lorne for a little while, taking a shower in the public bathroom near the beach ($1 for some minutes of hot water) and drinking Milo seeing people coming out to exercise in the beach. I did my share of stretching and got back into the motorcycle. My motto was to keep moving.

I stopped briefly in Torquay to relive some good moments that I spend there some months ago, and then straight to Melbourne passing through Geelong. My first experience in a full-featured Australian highway. Again speed was not a problem. But everything inside the law (for the most part of it at least).

On Melbourne I walked around to find cheap coffee and trace my next steps. Me walking around Melbourne with my huge atlas and my old helmet was a sight to see. I even think some Japanese tourists took a picture of me, from their bus.

I love Melbourne very much, but I was too broke to stay there. I had to move away from the big cities. The plan was to go to the Phillip Island, to see penguins! They got a Edvard Munch exposition on the Victoria Gallery, and it hurt me deeply to skip it for some penguins, but that’s how it was to be.

But the screaming ghost of Munch (pun intended) cursed me, and when I filled up in Cranbourne, I saw that I wouldn’t have money enough to go to the Phillip Island and back. I had to turn back. No worries.

From Cranbourne I ended up in the Yarra Ranges. What a BEAUTIFUL place! What a glad surprise. Curvy roads in the mountains, smell of fresh earth and herbs (one hill smelled only of peppermint! Unbelievable!). I got lost in the small quaint roads, with only mountains around me, all wrapped in fog. The biggest eucalyptus trees that I’ve ever seen.

At one stage I crossed paths with a rally that was going on. I could see some cars crossing the road, and stopped at an important point in the competition. Couldn’t get in because I didn’t have a pass. But could see from the distance.

Reached Yea and then to a city that was only a gas station. Lots of traffic in the part of the road, and I thought it was because Boonie Doon was close. I heard that this place is quite popular.

Then on through a secondary road in the ‘Horse Capital of Victoria’ (horse population, by my count: to Euroa. Stopped to rest and get warm.

Entered the Hume Highway for the first time in the motorcycle. Reached speeds to peel flesh out of the bone, until Glenrowan, Ned Kelly’s Last Stand. Pretty commercial by now, but I didn’t mind. It was cool going around the actual places of the shooting. The town was empty, it was the end of the afternoon. I stopped outside of the town to look at the ‘Kelly Country’ ahead of me. The objective was to get to the border on the same day. Ate peanut butter and bread and water. Exhausted from the journey, and happy as a clam, looking at the sunset reddening the landscape.

This part was the scariest part of the trip, from Glenrowan to Albury, at night, with trucks coming with high lights and making me almost fall down the road.

I reached Albury and could get camping for free in a caravan park, from the goodness of the receptionist. Ate the last of the beans (I bought 2 cans only) and fell asleep listening to a WWII radio soap opera on the radio.

The other day I woke up early again and moved through the huge Hume Highway. The previous times I passed through it I couldn’t absorb all the landscape because it was night or a dark day. But that day was brilliant, not a cloud in the sky. I stopped along the way in Holbrook and Gundagai and Yass, and then reached Canberra a little after noon.