The Great Ocean Road unspools for 243 kilometres along Victoria’s southern coast, and while the Twelve Apostles draw the crowds, the spaces between the postcard views hold a treasury of quieter wonders. Begin the journey at Torquay, not merely to snap a photo at the iconic surf arch but to wander the rock pools at Point Addis. At low tide, the sculpted sandstone platforms there teem with ochre sea stars, turban snails, and the occasional octopus tucked into a crevice. The adjacent Ironbark Basin walk descends through a canopy of messmate and manna gums to a secluded beach where the only prints in the sand might be those of a swamp wallaby. Carry a pair of reef shoes, a windbreaker, and a sense of unhurried curiosity, because the coastline’s real gifts reveal themselves when you step away from the designated lookout car parks.
Westward, the town of Lorne is a popular pit stop, but the true gem lies just inland in the Great Otway National Park. Instead of joining the convoy to Erskine Falls, take the lesser-known track to Phantom Falls, accessed via a gravel road that winds through towering mountain ash forests. The walk is a gentle three-kilometre circuit where lyrebirds scratch in the undergrowth and, if you stand still, might treat you to a burst of mimicry – car alarms, other birdcalls, and even chainsaws woven into their repertoire. The fall itself is a delicate veil cascading into a mossy grotto, often misty even in summer, and you are likely to have the space entirely to yourself. Pack a thermos and a sandwich, and you can sit on a log absorbing the cool, eucalypt-scented air before the final push to Apollo Bay.
Apollo Bay functions as a base, but do not miss the chance to explore Mait’s Rest, an 800-metre rainforest boardwalk tucked just off the main road in the Otways. The walk leads beneath a canopy of ancient myrtle beech, sassafras, and tree ferns so dense that the light filters down in emerald shafts. Interpretive plaques explain how these cool temperate rainforests once covered Gondwana, and on a quiet weekday morning the only sounds are the drip of water from epiphytes and the piping of a pink robin. A short drive further, the Cape Otway Lightstation provides panoramic views, but the true hidden gem here is the road leading to it, often lined with koalas dozing in the crooks of manna gums. Pull over safely, step out, and look up; spotting a dozen koalas in half an hour is not uncommon, and the experience of watching them from a respectful distance in the wild is infinitely richer than any captive encounter.
