Summer, sun, good mood, we are comfortably jogging along the famous coastal road, the Great Ocean Road, between Melbourne and Adelaide along. The ferry crossing to Queenscliff has really blown us away, and now we're wondering our way from one rugged beach to the next little souvenir-covered promenade street. Torquay, Anglesea, Lorne, the car radio pays homage to Kylie Minogue: they probably have a built-in Australian-only search function here, because after listening to it for about the fiftieth time in the last week, I can't get her "I can't get you out of my head" out of my head anymore … But actually it is not so bad, because after I am constantly exposed to Wonderwall's "Just more" and "Learn English with the little Aquarius" via a cassette I brought along, the lively pop queen can almost be seen as a mitigation of punishment.
Australian Ironmen = Men!
Almost unnoticed by my water-loving son, who constantly turns his head to the left toward the sea, my gaze veils inward to the city at many an Ironman who, even in his plastic sandals, is still just as hit-worthy as Kylie (and that doesn't refer to the singing in either case). In a European car, my watchful son would hardly have been able to miss the look in my eyes, but here I'm sitting on the right – it does have its advantages to ride on the "wrong" side! In Apollo Bay we want to stay, rainforest and lighthouse beckon for an overnight stay. Optimism is our business, and so we didn't worry about spending the night on this coastline, which is infested with tourists from all over the world. But without inquiring, the all-flagged "Sorry, booked out" signs jump out at us unkindly. I'm starting to notice the small size of the places, funny, I didn't notice that before. I wonder how many caravan parks or motels a place like this has? Not enough, I realize after the ninth dismissive answer, despite brisk construction activity.
No room available!
I drive a two-door car that's barely the size of a mattress on the outside – no, I dismiss that idea immediately! Always with a snappy quip on my lips, I try to distract my son from the question, which has been raised several times, of what our overnight stop today is called. For him, the prospect of a pool, a white bed sheet, a pillow is the best driving force to persevere on the endless road. Well then, rainforest on the way back, we must continue in search of a place to sleep. 16.30 o'clock – it's still early, what's the problem? Less than 100 kilometers and certainly some less frequented hamlets to the Port Campbell National Park, that's enough. I rummage for the car atlas, and then instead of worrying, first share the last piece of gum with Robin: There's a national park between here and Port Campbell.