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Day 18 - The 12 (actually 11) Apostles
Being situated on a square of grass in the furthest corner of the travellers site we were fortunate enough to back onto a slow flowing river. This meant rather then Parakeets and Kookaburras waking us up, it was a pair of very keen wetsuit clad Paddleboarders and our bladders.
We left promptly and went for brekkie at Naughtigals (seemed appropriate). Good scran. We then headed for the 12 Apostles. Research told us there were never 12 but since some smartie pants decided to rename them Apostles, to make them attract more tourists, and since when you say Apostles people tend to assume12, so they were then known. At best (from the air on a clear day coming from a South Westerly direction) you can make out 11. We were more then satisfied with our lot. We first parked up in the touristy epicentre and followed every (china) man and his dog down to the lookouts, to take the same photos as a million people before us and another million who will follow. And I don't care because they were amazing.
We spent some time taking them in. With each step they change dimensions, hide behind one another and change colour or rock formation. We tired standing on benches and leaning over wire fences to get better or different photo's from all the other tourists.
Once we had our fill from this aspect, we descended Gibson's Steps to walk along the beach and frolic in the waves (or challenge them). We walked further afield then most of the visitors who had accepted Gibson's challenge of approx 200 steps down to the beach. This gave us a beautifully vacant patch of beach to enjoy without the noise or general ignorance of other people getting in the background of 'picturesque' photos etc.
The waves seemed big here. Not the ones rolling into the sand, but the ones 20-40m out, swelling to 10ft before they broke and washed sand and seaweed up against our feet. Okay, so the odd one surprised us and Clarkey in particular ended up not beating the wave to shore, and got a damp crotch for her efforts (previously abandoned by Holly, who happened to have the iPad camera ready).
We headed inland from here taking a more direct route to the east coast and ultimately Port Campbell, which had great direct routes to Sydney, our ultimate destination.
Port Campbell wasn't really very far from the 12ish Apostles, but having no room at the main camp site we were sent to speak to Yvonne at a brand spanking new Recreation Field site; this was perfect and Yvonne a perfect host. We pitched up, got settled and changed and headed to a very petty cove which they call High St.
We sunbathed for an hour with a few zzzz's and then had dinner with views of the cove.
We then decided on an early retreat due to our plans for an early rise to hit the road. Mid teeth brushing, who should happen to walk in but Gilly. After a swift double take and hug they parked up next to us and came and sat in Bruno to discuss tourist routes, points of interest, King Kong and the very nice bottle of red wine they we drinking. As they left for their camper, around 10.30pm, Glen was able to make Clarkeys mission a reality by pointing out the Southern Cross.
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