Introduction
The Great Ocean Road stretches along the southeastern coast of Victoria, Australia, winding its way through approximately 243 kilometers of rugged coastline. This coastal highway threads between the wild Southern Ocean and the verdant inland regions like a boundary line carved by nature itself. Built between 1919 and 1932 by soldiers returning from World War I, this road carries significance far beyond its role as a tourist route.
Towering limestone pillars known as the “Twelve Apostles” stand sentinel along the coastline, among other sculptural masterpieces carved by nature over millennia. Inland, eucalyptus forests spread across the landscape, providing quiet homes for koalas, kangaroos, and other uniquely Australian wildlife. Small harbor towns dot the coast, where British colonial culture blends with Aboriginal traditions, creating a distinctive atmosphere all their own.
Traveling this road offers more than just beautiful scenery. It’s a journey that follows in the footsteps of pioneers, allows you to feel nature’s raw power, and provides time to listen to your own inner voice.
Day 1: Embraced by the Songs of Wind and Waves
I arrived in Torquay, a small coastal town about an hour and a half drive from Melbourne, around 10 AM. During the drive from the airport in my rental car, the city’s bustle gradually faded away, replaced by the scent of salt air seeping into the vehicle. True to its reputation as the “surfing capital,” Torquay was already alive with surfers dancing with the waves in the morning light.
After checking into my bed and breakfast, I decided to explore the town center first. Main Street was lined with surf shops and galleries showcasing local artists’ work. I stopped for breakfast at a small café called “Sally’s Surf Shack.” Sally, the owner, was a woman in her sixties who had moved here from Sydney thirty years ago.
“The waves here are the best in the world,” she said with pride. “But it’s not just the waves. There’s something special about this town. Time seems to flow more slowly here.”
As I savored my avocado toast and flat white while gazing at the ocean through the window, I could indeed feel a shift in my perception of time. The rhythmic sound of the waves created a steady beat that seemed to synchronize with my heartbeat, creating an incredibly soothing sensation.
In the afternoon, I officially began the Great Ocean Road drive. Heading west from Torquay, the ocean stretched endlessly to my left while green hills rolled away to my right. My first destination, Bells Beach, was just a 15-minute drive away. This beach is famous as the venue for the world’s longest-running surfing competition, the Rip Curl Pro.
I parked at Bells Beach and descended the wooden stairs to the shore. Standing on the sand, I was overwhelmed by the size of the waves. Swells at least three meters high were rolling in with perfect regularity. Several surfers were challenging these waves, moving with such fluid grace that they seemed to become part of nature itself. Watching them was breathtaking.
“First time seeing waves like this?”
I turned to find a young man in a wetsuit smiling at me. He was Jason, a local surf instructor.
“Yes, I’m from Tokyo.”
“Tokyo! That’s so far away. What do you think of these waves?”
“They’re bigger and more powerful than I imagined… they seem almost alive.”
Jason nodded with a smile. “That’s exactly right. We say waves are ‘alive.’ Each wave has its own personality, and no two waves are ever the same. That’s what makes every day fresh.”
After watching the waves for about an hour, I headed to my next destination: Apollo Bay. It was about a 45-minute drive from Torquay, with beautiful coastline views throughout. Lookout points were scattered along the route, where tourists stopped to take photos.
Apollo Bay is a small harbor town nestled protectively within a semicircular bay. The main street was lined with seafood restaurants and cafés bustling with tourists. For dinner, I chose “Chris’s Beacon Point Restaurant,” perched on a hill overlooking the bay.
From the restaurant’s terrace, I could see all of Apollo Bay spread out below. As the sun began its descent toward the western horizon, the ocean surface started to shimmer with golden light. I ordered grilled barramundi, a local white fish, paired with a Chardonnay from South Australia. The fish was remarkably fresh, with lemon and herbs filling my mouth with flavor.
“This fish was caught just this morning,” the waiter informed me. “Apollo Bay’s fishermen still use traditional methods.”
As the sun sank into the ocean, the sky gradually transformed from orange to pink. All the other diners had also paused to admire the beauty. When was the last time I had watched a sunset so quietly? In city life, I rarely even looked up at the sky.
That evening, I returned to the bed and breakfast, where I shared tea by the fireplace with the owners, Margaret and David. They had been teachers in Melbourne but moved here fifteen years ago.
“I was anxious at first,” Margaret reflected. “But the warmth of the people here made me feel like this was truly home.”
“This land is also sacred to the Aboriginal people,” David added. “They’ve lived alongside this ocean for thousands of years. We’re newcomers, but we try to live here with respect for that history.”
I fell into a deep sleep that night, lulled by the sound of the waves.
Day 2: Forest Spirits and Stone Giants
I woke naturally at 6 AM. The morning sun streaming through my window illuminated an ocean wearing a gentler expression than the night before. Margaret’s homemade breakfast featured scrambled eggs from a local farm and toast with homemade jam.
“I’m planning to visit Great Otway National Park today,” I mentioned, and David spread out a map for me.
“You absolutely must see Cape Otway Lighthouse. Built in 1848, it’s one of mainland Australia’s oldest lighthouses. The drive from there to the Twelve Apostles is the most beautiful route in the region.”
I left the inn at 8:30 AM and headed toward Otway National Park. Once I turned inland from Apollo Bay, the scenery transformed completely. The winding road led through forests of towering eucalyptus trees. The misty morning forest felt mystical, as if I had slipped back into ancient times.
Along the way, I spotted a sign for “Otway Fly Treetop Adventures” and decided to stop. This facility features a 600-meter-long elevated walkway 25 meters above the forest floor, allowing visitors to observe the forest ecosystem from above.
After purchasing a ticket, I stepped onto the walkway surrounded by Mountain Ash trees over 200 years old. Several viewing platforms along the walkway offered panoramic views of the forest canopy.
“Oh, a koala!”
At one of the platforms, I discovered a koala curled up sleeping in the fork of a eucalyptus tree. Its gray, ball-like body glowed softly in the morning light. A nearby Australian family was also excitedly taking photos.
“You’re lucky,” the father of the family said to me. “Koalas are nocturnal, so spotting them during the day is quite rare. This one looks like a young male.”
The complete circuit of the elevated walkway took about an hour. Along the way, I encountered flocks of colorful lorikeets and even spotted a kangaroo family deep in the forest—truly a natural treasure trove.
Leaving the forest behind, I headed to my next destination: Cape Otway Lighthouse. As I returned to the coastline from the inland area, strong winds began buffeting my car from the side. The lighthouse stood at the tip of the cape, surrounded by vast grasslands.
When I parked in front of the lighthouse and stepped outside, I was surprised by the wind’s intensity. This cape faces the Southern Ocean, with nothing to obstruct the winds blowing directly from the open sea. The lighthouse rose about 20 meters high, its white cylindrical structure quite striking.
“This lighthouse has illuminated waters known as the ‘Shipwreck Coast,’” the lighthouse guide explained. “In the 19th century, many ships were wrecked in these waters. Including immigrant ships from Europe, hundreds of vessels rest on the ocean floor.”
Climbing to the top of the lighthouse revealed a 360-degree panorama. The coastline stretching westward was dotted with unusual rock formations. The Twelve Apostles, my next destination, were part of this spectacular display.
Around 1 PM, I left the lighthouse and headed toward the Twelve Apostles. The drive from Cape Otway took about an hour, passing through several small towns. In a tiny settlement called Lavers Hill, I stopped for lunch at a local bakery.
“Apostles Bakery” had been operating in this location for over fifty years. Frank, the owner, was over eighty but still working actively.
“Providing delicious bread to people visiting the Twelve Apostles is my mission,” Frank smiled. “The meat pie is a family recipe.”
Indeed, the meat pie was exquisite. The crispy pastry crust was filled with spiced beef and mushrooms. Paired with a local beer, it completely revitalized me from the journey’s fatigue.
At 2:30 PM, I finally arrived at the Twelve Apostles viewing area. The parking lot was packed with tour buses and cars, evidence of visitors from around the world.
Walking along the path to the viewing platform, the sound of waves grew progressively louder. Then came that moment. The view from atop the cliff was truly breathtaking.
Limestone pillars 45 meters high rose majestically from the turbulent sea. Eight remain standing today, each with its unique shape, like natural sculptures crafted over eons. The rock faces glowed golden in the afternoon’s slanted light.
“Two hundred million years ago, this area was underwater,” a ranger at the viewing platform explained. “Limestone formed over vast periods, then sea level changes created what we see today. But erosion continues even now. Eventually, these rock pillars will return to the sea as well.”
I couldn’t help but feel the greatness of nature’s power and the grandeur of time’s passage. The scene before me had existed unchanged through countless human lifetimes, each no longer than the blink of an eye in geological terms.
After spending about an hour at the viewing platform, I moved on to Port Campbell, where I checked into my accommodation for the night: “Southern Ocean Villas.” From my ocean-view cottage, I could see the Twelve Apostles in the distance.
For dinner, I went to the “Twelve Apostles Motel Restaurant” in town. I ordered grilled crayfish caught locally and a Pinot Noir from Victoria. The sweet crayfish meat paired exquisitely with the garlic butter.
“Where is this crayfish caught?” I asked the waiter.
“Right here in the nearby ocean. Local fishermen bring their morning catch directly to the restaurant. Freshness is our pride.”
That night, I returned to the Twelve Apostles viewing area. The nighttime Apostles showed a completely different face from their daytime appearance. The rock pillars illuminated by moonlight appeared mystical and ethereal. In the silence broken only by the sound of waves, I gazed up at the starry sky and surrendered my heart to nature’s beauty.
Day 3: Light That Remains in Memory
My final morning began with coffee on the cottage veranda. The distant Twelve Apostles glowed orange in the morning sun. The scent of salt air and the sound of waves that had permeated my being over two days now felt like part of myself.
After checking out, I headed to my final destination: “Loch Ard Gorge.” Just a five-minute drive from the Twelve Apostles, this place was named after the ship “Loch Ard” that was wrecked here in 1878.
Descending the stairs from the parking area to the beach revealed a small cove enclosed by high cliffs on both sides. This place is also called “Lovers’ Beach,” named for the tragic love story of a young man and woman who were passengers on the shipwrecked vessel.
Sitting on the sandy beach and quietly watching the waves, an elderly man approached me. Arthur, a local resident, walked this beach every morning.
“I was born and raised here,” Arthur shared. “I’ve been watching this ocean for eighty years, but I never tire of it. It shows me a different expression every day.”
“What do you think is the charm of this place?” I asked.
“The different flow of time, I suppose. In the cities, everyone’s always rushing, watching their clocks. But here, the sound of the waves serves as our timepiece. When you live according to nature’s rhythm, you begin to see what’s truly important.”
Arthur’s words perfectly captured what I had been feeling over these three days. Indeed, since arriving here, I had looked at my watch far less frequently.
Around 10 AM, I left Loch Ard Gorge and began my journey back to Melbourne. For the return trip, I chose a route through the inland areas. In contrast to the dramatic coastline, I drove through landscapes of gentle pastures and rolling hills.
I stopped for lunch in Colac, a small town where I dined at “Colac Botanic Gardens Cafe,” run by local farmers. I enjoyed roasted lamb with a salad of locally grown vegetables. The lamb was tender, with rosemary’s aroma whetting my appetite.
“Where was this sheep raised?” I inquired.
“On a nearby farm. Our sheep graze freely in the pastures, so the meat quality is completely different,” the café owner replied proudly.
I left Colac around 2 PM, heading toward Melbourne. The scenery outside my window shifted from the coastline’s dramatic beauty to the pastoral tranquility of the interior. Both were beautiful, each with its own distinct charm.
As I approached Melbourne’s city limits, traffic increased and urban hustle returned. I returned the rental car at the airport and spent time at an airport café until my flight.
At the café, I took out my journal to reflect on the three days’ experiences. Torquay’s waves, Otway’s forests, the Twelve Apostles’ sunset, and the faces of people I’d met. Each memory sparkled like a jewel in my heart.
What impressed me most were the words of the people I encountered in this land. Sally’s “time flows more slowly,” Jason’s “waves are alive,” Arthur’s “living according to nature’s rhythm.” Their words contained precious values easily forgotten in urban life.
The Great Ocean Road wasn’t merely a tourist destination—it was a place to confront oneself. Wild ocean and peaceful forest, massive rocks and tiny flowers, and encounters with warm-hearted people. Everything harmonized to leave a quiet but profound impression deep in my heart.
Conclusion
While this journey was painted in imagination, the landscapes, culture, and people’s warmth of the Great Ocean Road reflect what countless visitors to this region have actually experienced. The stories woven from natural beauty and human endeavors continue to resonate in our hearts across time.
Though just two nights and three days, the emotions and insights felt during this imaginary journey hold value equal to any real travel. Sometimes spreading the wings of imagination and nurturing dreams of unseen lands might be an essential element in enriching our lives.
Perhaps someday I will truly visit the Great Ocean Road. When that time comes, these imagined memories may overlap with real experiences, creating even deeper emotions. Though born of imagination, travel memories that feel genuinely real never fade from the heart.
