Day 17....Phillip Island to Tarra Valley....eeeeeek!!

Day 17 - Phillip Island to Tarra Valley

Hello again!! Right, this post should be read after the one I have just posted about Melbourne day 13 ....and will probably be read before the the post about Phillip Island (days 14 15 and 16) as that has yet to be written (it requires special attention you see).

Confusion notwithstanding, let us get on with proceedings and bring you the account of our day 17 on leaving Phillip Island for our next stop, Tarra Valley.  I shan't start right at the beginning as it will give away some of the excitement of the last few hours of our time on the island but will pick up after saying a teary eyed farewell to the Dixons.  We had had a fantastic  5 days with them, it was so good finally meeting them and for V to see them again so soon after visiting for Christmas last year.  They are a wonderful couple and we had lots of fun.  They were heading out towards Melbourne for a few days before flying back to Perth and we knew it would not be long before we saw them again (trip already in the planning for January 2018....!!!).  Eyes dried, we headed out to get supplies for our last 4 night leg of our road trip and said a fond farewell to the island (which unfortunately we had not explored as much as it deserved but will make sure we do next time we return) and headed off to our next stop in the Tarra Valley.

Now I have no knowledge of this part of the world (from Melbourne to Sydney) as I have always flown between the two cities, so this was to be all new for me too.  Sat nag instructed. map in hand and me at the wheel we go no further than 4 miles out when rows occur over sat nags choice of route compared to that which showed on the map.  Tempers calmed and a compromise met, we carried on with sat nag and she made me eat my words.  Wow.  What a route she took us.  We were following the Gippsland Highway (which I just assumed would be a motorway, I could not have been more wrong) and the landscape it took us through was incredible.  Rolling lush green hills, farmlands, homesteads, twists and turns, hills and valleys, it was breathtaking and took us through lovely little towns with Scottish names such as Argyll and Loch and the landscape did indeed resemble the Scottish Highlands.  Stunning.  We then stumbled across a viewpoint that looked over the hills that were the starting point of Wilsons Prom, a stunning NP that unfortunately we could not do justice to as we just didn't have the time, so we drove on ooooing and arrrring at the way the landscape rolled up and down in front of us.  Well I did, V sat in the front a little jaded and hungover....it had been a late night the night before (or should I say early morning which gave us no more than 4 hours sleep) and I have to say I was feeling a little weary.  Who knew motorsport spectating could be so exhausting!

We then headed off the main road entering the Tarra Bulga NP, which is where I had booked our next stop.  What a breathtaking surprise it was and woke us both up.  We wound through narrow roads, carving up through the valley, following the river then leaving it behind to climb, then back down again.  The trees were green, the sun was shining and the crystal clear water of the river rushed by us at every turn.  Soon we saw signs for a campsite and our destination for the night came into view, right on the banks of the river and nestled in a stunning woodland setting.  Miles from anywhere, remote and stunning.  Girl did good.

We parked outside the little reception desk, it was quite and still, the only noise was the river rushing past and the birds in the trees.  There was a man sat  by the river with a  dog, he paid us no interest as we entered the quaint little office where an array of good and the offerings of Devonshire Teas with homemade scones made us hopeful of a warm welcome.  We stood for a while before the door opened and the man from the river came in and looked at us.  We said hello, he nodded.  We said we had a reservation and he asked for our name, looked at his book and pointed to a map showing us a spot by the river.  He very quietly stated that he wasn't sure which sites were free  but we could take what ever we wanted, some were a bit wet so to take care.  Then he just looked at us.  We asked about wifi and he said 'no, no mobile signal either, there is a payphone outside if you need to ring anyone'.  We thanked him, smiled, and drive up the drive to the site and watched him go back to his seat by the river with his little dog. Me and V looked at each other and smiled, both thinking the same thing but not knowing it till a little later.

The setting was stunning and there were only a handful of caravans already there, 2 by the river, one in with a fire pit in the spot we were meant to be in so finding another spot began, testing out pitches for bogging down potential and after a lot of tooing and fro-in we settled on one at the waters edge, with two neighbours to our right (one of which looked like they had been here a very long time).  We stood and looked around us, the seclusion, the solitude, the quiet, the stillness, the lack of communication, cut off from the world....It was at this point that we both stopped, looked at each other and V said, very calmly and echoing my words beautifully 'we are gonna get murdered here tonight....'

Mr Spielberg, if you are looking for a location for your next 'two travellers in a campervan get murdered in the woods by a descendant of Norman Bates' horror flick, we have found it.  Deliverance meets 'I know what you did last summer' with a bit of Psycho thrown in for good measure.  Priceless.  We almost wet ourselves nervously laughing.  There were empty log cabins (perfect for hiding bodies) as well as a huge ice fridge, a camp kitchen complete with ancient weapons on the walls, a shed full of potential murder weapons  and a tarpaulin which when laid on the floor would take at least 2 bodies.  Many trails and dead ends for a victim to run and hide only to be found by their hunter and trapped.  An inspection of the facilities only added to the feeling of unease ala Psycho and conjured visions of us hiding in the 1970's showerblock complete with net curtains, spyholes in the walls and a list of useless taunting emergency numbers that we had absolutely no way of using, trying to hide from an axe wielding maniac intent on making us his next victims.

We hastily came up with wild plans of escape, of which plan C was the least appealing as it meant running for our lives through the rushing river to nowhere before hysterically flagging down the only car that had passed us for hours to find it was the person we were fleeing from (after plan A of just driving our quickly the way we came in, running down anyone who came in our way or plan B, crashing through the small wooden fence onto the road next to us).

The cast of the movie was growing as two German ladies arrived and gleefully parked a way down, and the man from the van next door came and introduced himself, asking us if we played music and helpfully but disturbingly informing us that he had a chainsaw.....we both almost choked on our beers and smiled sweetly until he left when we once again descended into panic stricken fear of our lives, convinced we would not see the morning sun.  It was then we decided that if we were indeed going to end our days here and inadvertently become the stars of another posthumous horror story, we would enjoy our last night.

So we nervously went back to the man by the road (who we ascertained was the owner and had been here six years. moving down from Melbourne....you have no idea how many scenarios that conjured up in our minds) and asked him for some firewood which he said he would deliver at some point. Thanks.  We headed back to the van hurriedly past the shed of potential ends to our lives and soon enough the owner appeared on a quad bike with our logs.  Nods exchanged he was off again and we looked at each other nervously and the boy went about doing boy stuff (namely collecting firewood and looking for more means of escape) and I began cooking the spuds and getting the rest of dinner ready.

Fire blazing, river rolling past, food cooked and beer and wine ready we made a toast to life and ate our dinner in the most amazing setting, with the sun setting and grateful that the sun had indeed stayed out, the rain had stayed away and we were able to enjoy camping as it should be.

We sat and came up with so many scenarios abut the place that we laughed our self tired and and when the man next door got his banjo out to start playing (I shit you not) we knew it was time to turn in and hope we would indeed see the sun.  

And see the sun we did.  12 glorious hours of sleep followed and we woke thankfully alive and refreshed ready for our next leg.

DISCLAIMER.... I would like to point out that this was indeed a stunning stunning spot and the owner was definitely not a descendant of Norman Bates, just a very quiet nice man who enjoys his time in this secluded spot with his dog, It truly was magical, stuck in a little bit of a timewarp but if you really do want to get away from it all, this is the place.

And so that my friends was that!! We survived and now I sit, with a snoring rhino next to me, at the end of day 18 but I think that the next instalment will have to wait until the morning as I am just as sleepy as him, so it's earplugs at the ready and TTFN....