TRAVEL

PUTRI ZANINA

The Twelve Apostles is only one reason why thousands of people make their way along Australia’s Great Ocean Road. PUTRI ZANINA finds out what else there is to do and see

THE rotor blades spin furiously. Within seconds, the helicopter levitates from the tarmac and we’re in the air. The blue sky envelops us from all sides as the chopper pulls away from the land. We whirl over an immense sea of blue with white fingers of giant waves pounding rugged cliffs lining the spectacularly long and curvy coastline. The hinterland is a carpet of green, broken only by a narrow snaking road with moving vehicles growing to mere dots as we circle higher and higher into the sky. It is an awesome feeling. Then, we hear the pilot’s voice above the roar of the engine: “There, the Twelve Apostles!” So these are the world-famous Apostles — the stunning, larger than life creations of nature that have attracted thousands of people to the Port Campbell National Park along Australia’s Great Ocean Road that measures 285kms from Torquay to Warrnambool. Hugging the shore on the south-west coast of Victoria, the Great Ocean Road is hailed as one of the world’s most spectacular coastal drives and the Twelve Apostles as one of its major attractions. Natural Sculptures Seen from the air, it’s as if there’s a face-off between the rocks and the sea. The high waves pound the towering yellow, sandy cliffs and as their faces seem to “blend”, it’s really hard to say which feature is hitting which. This dramatic natural confrontation has been going on for some 20 million years. Through the sheer force of wind and waves, huge limestone rocks have been carved out of the cliff shore. The waves have eaten away at the rocks at sea level, forming caves on each side of the headland. The caves eventually crumble, forming arches which then collapse, leaving rock stacks. The Twelve Apostles, some rising as high as 11-storey buildings are among these giant rock stacks forlornly holding their own in the swirling waters of the Southern Ocean. Actually, there are no longer 12 Apostles. A few have succumbed to erosion and are now low platforms or reefs. Even when all 12 existed, it was not possible to see them all at once as some were hidden behind headlands or obscured by other rock stacks. They will all disappear some day, so it’s best to go and see them now.

Other rock formations include the London Bridge (could it be falling down soon?) and the Loch Ard Gorge. Here, in 1878, the Loch Ard struck a reef at the tip of Mutton Bird Island and sank, leaving only two survivors out of 54 passengers.

As much as the Twelve Apostles look spectacular, it’s funny how in the last century, they were simply called Sow And Piglets. It was said that Mutton Bird Island, where the Loch Ard went under, was the “sow” and the smaller rock stacks the “piglets”. To continue calling them the Sow And Piglets seemed undignified so Twelve Apostles was thought to be the more apt name.

Though the chopper run by the 12 Apostles Helicopters lasts 15 minutes, the view of the Twelve Apostles, Lord Ard Gorge and the Shipwreck Coast as well as London Bridge, Two Mile Bay, Port Campbell, the long coastline and the Great Ocean Road is incredibly beautiful.

Climbing Up the Cliffs Apart from the chopper ride, you can also walk to the well-protected Twelve Apostles Park near the Heliport launch site. An underpass and a meandering boardwalk lead to vantage viewpoints perched on sloping coastal cliffs. All along the walk, you can see some unique plants that have survived despite the harsh winds, salt-laden air and shallow and infertile soils. There is an abundance of native local plants such as coast cushion bush, silvery tussock grass and coast beard-heath thriving on the undulating rough terrain. The viewpoint platforms offer a truly breathtaking view of the rock stacks and the sea. Strong balmy air sweeps the coast and the waves pound the cliffs way below. Beneath the waters is a remarkable seascape with towering walls covered in colourful seaweeds and sponges that support schools of fishes.

Wrap all these together and the Twelve Apostles Park make for one of the most dramatic sights in the world.

One Great Loop The Great Ocean Road is part of the Great Southern touring route covering over 400kms of coastal road and inland highways traversing scenic landscapes and seascapes. Built between 1919 and 1932, it not only provided work for returning military men but also served as a memorial to soldiers who died in World War One. The far-sightedness of making it a tourist route even then has paid off as it is now a destination of world repute and has very much been left in its rugged wild form. Many tourists begin their drive from Melbourne via the West Gate Bridge and following the Princess Highway towards Ballarat, a rustic town that harks back to the gold rush era. Sovereign Hill in Ballarat has been recreated to become a gold mining town of the 1860s and a stop there is well worth your time. From there, it’s on to Warrnambool before starting the drive along the Great Ocean Road towards Torquay and then returning to Melbourne. It’s one big loop that you simply can’t rush through. There are just so many things to see and do, and many roads to detour. Rivers and creeks have walking tracks that lead to gorges, waterfalls, caves and rainforests. Pick a beach and leave your footprints in the sand. See the sun rise over the ocean or watch it go down over farmland dotted with cottages and windmills so rustic, you’ll just simply not want to leave.

Inland roads, which are mostly one lane each side, are flanked by bushes and towering gum trees interspersed with flat lands against hills and valleys. Strong cross winds often hit certain stretches and you may feel your car shake for a bit. Take power naps at lay-bys along the way — there are signs saying “Droopy eyes? Power nap now!” For safety reasons, it’s best you take heed, as the journey is long and some straight roads can make you feel drowsy.

Charming Coastal Towns Spending a night at Warrnambool is recommended. Set against the gentle arc of Lady Bay, the port town has sheltered beaches and verdant gardens. From May to September, it’s one of the best places in the world for watching whales and it’s also one of the few cities in the world with a whale nursery. This is located at Logans Beach where platforms are erected for viewing Southern Right Whales that come in to calve every year.

Warrnambool is the capital of the Shipwreck Coast and as its name suggests, it’s a perilous section of the Victorian coastline nestled between Moonlight Head and Port Fairy that’s the site for more than 160 shipwrecks and where hundreds of lives were lost at sea.

Much of the city’s history is showcased in the Flagstaff Hill Maritime Village where original buildings, a lighthouse and a port, complete with ships, have been restored. The place also recreates how rugged the life was in Warrnambool during the 19th Century. The collection of shipwreck relics including the famous porcelain peacock which was washed up amongst the wreckage from the Loch Ard in 1878, can be seen in the museum there. A touching story titled Shipwrecked is a permanent part of the museum’s attraction. Through the clever play of sound, laser and water, it tells the story of the Loch Ard disaster. The audience is taken through the journey in a 3D theatre that lets them feel as if they are sinking with the ship into the ocean depths.

From Warrnambool, you’ll drive past the charming coastal towns of Port Campbell, Princetown, Apollo Bay, Lorne and Anglesea before ending with Torquay. While Port Campbell is the show-stopper with its natural sculptures of breathtaking beauty, Apollo Bay, west of the more steep stretches of the Great Ocean Road and east of the rainforest of Great Otway National Park in Cape Otway is the paradise by the sea. It spreads out along a sweeping bay and nestles into the lush greenery of the Otway Ranges. Coastal hamlets, fishing villages, trendy restaurants, cafes and B&Bs make Apollo Bay one of the main holiday resorts along Great Ocean Road.

To ride the waves, there’s Torquay, dubbed the surfing capital of Australia along the Surf Coast, also home to Anglesea with beaches glistening in the briny air and golf fairways stretching for as far as the eyes can see. But often, there are more kangaroos on the fairways than golfers teeing off! Then’s there’s Lorne, with picture-perfect scenery where the Erskine River meets the Loutit Bay.

All along the drive, there are many pit stops where you can feast your eyes on rugged cliffs, blue seas and miles of golden beaches.

How To Get There Malaysia Airlines, AirAsia X and Emirates have direct flights to Melbourne. Rent a car in Melbourne to go on your own self-drive tour of the Great Ocean Road which is part of Victoria’s Great Southern Touring Route. From Melbourne, you can head inland to Geelong or to Warrnambool via the Princess Highway (3½ hours drive) or via the Great Ocean Road (5½ hours).

For more info on the Great Ocean Road, go to www.greatoceanroad.org or www.visitvictoria.com Where To Stay There are many accommodation choices in Melbourne, Warrnambool and all other coastal towns. If you stay in Warrnambool, a good choice is The Sebel Deep Blue (www.mantradeepblue.com.au) located on a tiny peninsula between Lady Bay and Stringray Bay with all rooms facing the magnificent sea vista. The resort is 10 minutes’ drive to the Flagstaff Hill Maritime Museum (www.flagstaffhill.com). Twelve Apostles Helicopters’ Scenic Tours The company operating the Twelve Apostles Helicopters’ scenic tours has a heliport in Port Campbell. Four tour packages are available, ranging from a 10-minute tour of Port Campbell and the Twelve Apostles at AU$95 (RM294) per person to a 50-minute tour of Port Campbell right to Cape Otway (AU$395 or RM1,220 per person). Child under three gets to fly for free.

For details, go to www.12apostleshelicopters.com.au

There’s an unexpectedly familiar voice or two in the middle of the Mediterranean whether you are Brit, Italian or Australian.

The guttural speech reveals its Arabic roots, heavily overlain with foreign words. The lifestyle, the cuisine and the staunch Catholic faith of the Maltese recall southern Italy, whilst the cosy pubs and red phone boxes reassure British visitors.

Even Australians find echoes of their faraway country on this Mediterranean island nation, thanks to a history of post-War emigration.

Well into September, northern Europeans flock to Malta for the Mediterranean sunshine and sparkling waters, whilst the rest of us relish fine food with an Italian touch, and the many other legacies of a tortuous history extending back 5,000 years, including the world’s oldest freestanding structures.

Like Gibraltar, Malta formed a bastion of the British Empire through the 19th and 20th centuries, a rocky outcrop that commanded vital maritime trade routes across the Mediterranean. During WWII, this island fortress withstood heavy bombardment, its people suffering greatly.

Malta’s history goes back much further, the legacies of the crusading Knights of St John being reminiscent at times of the past grandeur of Venice or Dubrovnik. Down the hill and across the water from my guesthouse lies “a fine example of a 15th-century Renaissance fortified city”.

Valletta doesn’t feel like the toy-town capital of a small island state. Rather, it wears the airs and graces of Europe’s grand old capitals bequeathed by empires now faded, as do Vienna or Trieste.

Grand avenues, flanked by majestic public buildings or tree-lined malls, fan out from the city centre, even if they lead only to dusty, huddled towns and villages of creamy limestone, with their impossibly grand baroque churches and sleepy town squares.

In the tourist district of Sliema, the waterfront buzzes with cafés and bars, boutiques and ice-cream vendors, but the steep backstreets are lined with traditional two- and three-storey houses, rows of painted window boxes and, every so often, a brass band clubhouse or a tiny corner store. Fine Renaissance mansions or Catholic basilicas loom up unexpectedly in the narrow streets.

It’s not all history here.

Sun-starved Europeans pack into the busy resorts along the northern coast, and exquisite grottoes, reflected by clear turquoise waters, lie concealed within the formidable limestone cliffs along the southeast coast.

At secluded coves like Ghar Lapsi (not easily reached without a car), the locals think nothing of jumping in for a dip off the natural shelves of limestone rock. On the smaller and sleepier island of Gozo — easily reached by ferry — golden sandy beaches like Ramla, splattered with sun umbrellas, become positively enticing.

In the fishing port of Marsaxlokk (mar-sash-lock), my accommodation is right above a restaurant on the waterfront. Brightly-painted fishing boats chug back and forth, delivering local snapper or lampuki (dolphin fish) to be grilled expertly for lunch. Each boat’s prow is guided by the mystical Eyes of Osiris, a tradition thousands of years old.

Dining al fresco at Duncan’s Bar & Restaurant, I order seafood pizza, which arrives piled high with mussels (still in shells), prawns, octopus and squid. At the next table sit the Baldachinos from New South Wales, family friends of my hosts, whose side door sports a little enamelled plaque celebrating “Sydney Cove” with a sketch of the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge.

In the island’s centre, Mdina is a well-preserved walled city where the local aristocracy long held sway even after the Knights of St John, Napoleon’s troops and other invaders had made their mark on the coastal towns. Mdina is best explored on foot. The “Silent City” teems with package tourists by day but soon falls still as the light fades.

Admire the Roman frescoes or the catacombs of early saints in nearby Rabat, then head back to the town square where Parruccan Confectionary stocks a mouth-watering selection of homemade Maltese cakes, buns, nougat and nut brittle.

Enough from me. I’m off down to the Sliema waterfront for a last swim in the “Med”, climbing in off a rocky shelf. Time afterwards for a pint of the local Cisk and a spot of people-watching along the Strand.

Malta for motorheads

Waiting for a bus is rarely fun, but on Malta, at least there’s the novelty of wondering just what much-loved relic will come lumbering down the road.

Valletta’s teeming City Gate terminus is a working museum of decades-old AECs, Dodges, Leylands and Volvo buses, many decorated with whorls, scrolls and pious aphorisms according to the owner’s tastes.

Whilst you wait, enjoy an iced granita, a fried date turnover, a Maltese nougat or a pastizzio, the distinctively Maltese savoury pastries. Unfortunately, the regular commuters sometimes tire of erratic scheduling and the arbitrary whims of owner-drivers who aren’t always scrupulously honest when counting out change.

As in other small island nations, especially former colonies, Malta has long relied upon a diverse and sometimes incongruous collection of motor vehicles imported more or less randomly from the “mother country”. Commercial vehicles were built up from a basic chassis by local coachbuilders and carpenters, modified by resourceful owners or customised with fancy paintwork, extra chrome and interior trim.

“Route buses” — that is, public transport — have been operating ever since a certain Mr Spiteri imported the first Thornycroft buses from the UK in 1905. By 1931 the total number of buses was not far short of today’s fleet of 508, and Malta’s embryonic railway system had ceased operation.

Bus drivers were locked in acrimonious and destructive competition, and inevitably entrepreneurs emerged who built up fleets at the expense of smaller operators. Since 1977 the operators have adhered to fixed routes and standardised fares, as well as a uniform livery, the distinctive gold-and-orange of the island of Malta fleet and the more subdued grey-and-red of the island of Gozo.

Thanks in part to a hot, dry climate, the legacy of the past remains in the form of an eclectic “car park” of vehicles, most of which are at odds with the European Union’s norms on exhaust pollution. Something will be lost the day slick Scandinavian coaches shoulder aside these proud in-your-face omnibuses of yesterday.

Malta’s motley fleet of public buses is paralleled in the islanders’ enthusiasm for vintage, veteran and classic cars. On Malta’s crowded roads, I spy Austin 1800s, a Morris Estate stationwagon complete with wooden framing, and even one early 60s Austin hauling a stone mason’s trailer.

The parking lot outside the main gate to the walled city of Mdina one hot September evening includes a Ford Model A, a jet-black Ford Zephyr 6, a classic gas-guzzling Cadillac complete with chrome fins and a stately Rolls Royce in two-toned mauve. When does the rally start?

No, these diverse and eye-catching vehicles have been marshalled to chauffeur a group of visiting European VIPs.

I spy a small Ford Consul, smartly liveried in two-tone banana yellow with deep-green roof; a lime-green 1960s Opel Kapitan and an immaculate Rover TC2000, its blue-green panels positively gleaming. I learn that in the nearby town of Rabat, one garage offers a 1933 Vauxhall Grosvenor Limo for hire, claimed to be one of five surviving worldwide.

Harry Caruana, a dapper middle-aged man whom I encounter at the wheel of his black 1955 Chevrolet Belair — the last of its type in Malta — is a motor mechanic who has previously owned Studebakers and Vauxhalls.

How does his family react to his passion for wheels? Well, he’s a bachelor . . . that helps. Caruana, like so many Maltese, has friends and family who emigrated to Australia, and one of these, he declares, owns 10 veteran cars.

Caruana assures me there are many motor shows and rallies staged by Maltese enthusiasts. Indeed, the Old Motors Club, the country’s largest vintage and classic car club, boasts around 300 members who between them have close to 1,000 cars. The oldest car in the club is a 1904 Cadillac, reputedly one of the first motor vehicles ever to reach Malta.

Of the popular makes represented, the majority are British, but American, Italian, French, German and other Continental makes are also keenly sought, and even DKW, Marmon or Goggomobil cars can be found.

Malta’s specialist car clubs provide for devotees of American cars, classic Fords, Toyota and Alfa Romeo; these last enjoy get-togethers with their fellow enthusiasts in Sicily, a relatively short journey by fast catamaran. It’s a chance to savour the novelty of the Italian autostrada, of the rugged terrain of Mt Etna and, of course, driving on the right.

Visitors to Malta can admire the Malta Classic Car Collection in the coastal resort town of Qawra, a lavishly-presented private museum of fine cars, many from the 50s and 60s.