With the Wilson's Prom fire officially putting the kybosh on our much-anticipated camping trip, we pointed our rented, but luxuriously appointed Hyundai Elantra, south toward Geelong. With a promise to be kept to the boys - something about a waterpark - we decided to take the weekend to drive all the way around Port Phillip Bay, a round trip of approximately 250kms. Along the way the plan was to stay in Point Lonsdale at the very tip of the narrows into Bass Strait and to visit as many scenic, quaint, and cool places we could fit into about 36 hours of travel. It was a great weekend.
The city of Melbourne is situated at the very north end of Port Phillip Bay and is in effect not really "on" the ocean - at least, not the big, bad, deep and wavy kind of ocean. But for a very small opening in the southernmost part of the bay, this enormous body of water is more like a large lake - almost 2000 square kilometres large! Surprisingly though, despite its size, the bay averages a depth of only 8 metres! The 'back beaches" in the bay are calm and plentiful and we had already spent Christmas Eve day on a beach on the eastern shores in an area known as Mornington Peninsula. For this trip we would start on the western shore and the Bellarine Peninsula with a much anticipated ferry ride over to the eastern side and then home. But first, to Australia's first dedicated water park - or some similar claim like that.
The small irony of this day was the fact that after dreaming of this park for weeks on end as we sweltered through January and February, the temperature on the day was down right chilly! It almost rained, even! Though not the best water park we had ever set our suits on, that was lost on the boys and the sound of their laughter and screams was worth the price of admission. We did it all, slides, rivers, buckets, and tubes, including mom and dad, and were thankful that the cooler temps were probably keeping a few thousand people away. We more or less had the place to oursleves which forced us to play not one, but two rounds of mini-golf! The horror! After a few flips and flops on an enormous jumping pillow we loaded up and headed out for our accommodation at the Pt. Lonsdale Guest House.
I feel like we have already seen a lot of Australia's glorious coastline, but it never fails to impress me when we roll into another seaside hamlet nestled into the rock and scrub. Somewhat off the beaten path, Pt. Lonsdale is a sleepy but awakening little gem of a place that has all of the requirements retiring boomers and well-to-do Melburnians need in a vacation home. From historic lighthouse to expensive eateries, this was Lorne-redux, but without the cavalcade of tour buses beating you to your favourite table. I loved it and found myself slowing down at the real estate office to play my favourite game of "what if".
After checking into our room, which for all of our desperate last-minute booking, was a perfectly acceptable steal, we headed down to the main drag to rustle up a bit of tucker. Settling on Italian, we more or less opened the place, but it wasn't long before we met someone we knew! Unbelievable. In walked a family, from the boys' school, that we knew had a place in Pt. Lonsdale but with whom we had made no plans to meet up. So we all sat down to a fun meal, full of laughter and talk and pizza. We were then very kindly invited back to their place for a little more play and a night cap. If you ever needed an experience to make you feel "normal" or comfortable living away from home, a chance meeting of a friendly familiar face in a far off place, might just do the trick. The boys had a great time destroying the place with their three kids and we left somewhat guilty at the mess.
Next morning, after being awoken far too early by the screams and laughter of the kids staying in the room below us, Colin and I hit the local IGA for provisions and the requisite skinny latte and long black. After a quick pack and a promised table tennis game, we decided to check out and then check out the local lighthouse and accompanying jetty. Point Lonsdale, and its across-the-bay neighbour Sorrento, have made a name for themselves over the years for saving many souls destined for Davy Jones' locker. The lighthouse continues to be an important marker for ocean liners coming into the bay, though a special pilot must board all boats coming in and leaving in order to navigate through the tricky series of rip currents, shoals and markers.
Wanting to get the ferry at a reasonable hour, we headed for the very trendy Queenscliff and the ferry docks. As luck would have it we had five minutes to spare and caught the 11:00 am - I think we were the second last car on. The trip is about 40 minutes and we enjoyed roaming around the ship and thinking about the fact that our car was "floating" across the water. After docking in Sorrento we headed out to Portsea and the very western end of the Mornington Peninsula where a long walk on the beach revealed a very cool rock outcropping. In need of some grub of the pub variety, we wandered back into Sorrento for a long lunch and a little shopping. I was in a state of mourning as I had just "blown out' my long-serving flip-flops, but after a little retail therapy in a local surf store I was feeling much better, thank you. This area of Australia is quite well-to-do and has a Nantucket or even Bermuda feel to it with huge mansions overlooking moored yachts and secluded beaches. As we pointed the Elantra north towards Melbourne, we confidently ticked Sorrento off as another place we would happily live, if we had a few extra mill...
But this holiday weekend was not over yet! Delivering on yet another lost promise, we climbed our way up to Arthur's Seat and a pretty cool maze-garden-park-playground sort of thing. As with so much of what we have seen and done, we continue to explore the country through the kids and their sense of curiosity and wonder. Though not directed at the same things we might find interesting, I continue to feel that we are sowing seeds here and Linton and I are simply along for the ride. If that means a few waterparks and cheesy maize mazes on the way - so be it. Having said that, it was completely my desire to drag us back to the bay for our last stop on the tour. Having noticed it on a map, I was intrigued to check out a beach called Canadian Bay and at least take a picture. Sadly, it was a major disappointment with only a dilapidated sailing club and an uninspring stretch of sand. More Scarborough Bluffs than Martha's Vineyard...or was I just becoming blase? I guess it can't all be life-altering.
Climbing back in the car we all agreed that this had been a great mini-trip. And it was. And I need to continue to remember that. Whether we are in a chilly waterpark, a noisy inn, a tired corn maze, or a boring beach - I cannot take a minute of this for granted. Nor should I always filter it through older, wiser?, adult eyes. It's all new and different through the eyes of the child and I shouldn't impose my expectations - complete with cost and convenience evaluation attached. We need to keep this world as big and as awe-inspiring for our kids for as long as we possibly can - one short weekend at a time.
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