Stupid Things

It has finally happened.

I’ve fallen in love with Australia.

At last.

I’ve spent the past eighteen months trying to find a landscape in Australia that would make me feel less heartbroken about leaving Scotland. I searched the skies for the dazzling sunsets and sunrises that had coloured my life for far too short a time. Would the otherworldly magnificence of a Scottish sunset forever remain in my rear-view mirror? There are no Merry Dancers or noctilucent clouds here. I had almost given up hope of seeing anything as beautiful as the passionate, turbulent North Sea or feeling anything like the mighty wind that stirred my hair and fortified my heart.

On the King’s Birthday long weekend, Donghwan and I took a day trip to Phillip Island. I wasn’t expecting much more than a pleasant day by the sea.

We set off from our home in Melbourne’s eastern suburbs just after eleven in the morning. Before long, we had left the heavy traffic behind and were gliding along the M420 through regional Victoria. Our first stop was Maru Koala and Animal Park, which I had mistakenly assumed was the Koala Conservation Reserve.

We saw a wide variety of animals, though the attraction is perhaps better suited to children. Entry includes a cup of kangaroo feed, and the younger visitors seemed delighted by the opportunity to hand-feed the roos. So did Donghwan.

The kangaroos, however, wanted absolutely nothing to do with me.

To be fair, I was a little afraid of them.

Donghwan developed a particular bond with a black alpaca named Duncan, who happily polished off the remainder of his kangaroo feed. My favourite animal was the Tasmanian devil. They look like someone crossed a black bear with a pig and somehow made the result adorable.

Back on the road, we realised we had worked up an appetite. I had already selected our next stop: Island Pies in Newhaven.

Sitting just off the highway past San Remo, the bakery serves as a rather delicious gateway to Phillip Island. This lunch choice was something of a gamble because DH is not generally a fan of savoury pies. We strolled in like a couple of locals and ordered two scallop pies, along with a family-sized apple strudel to take home as a souvenir.

The place was packed. People streamed in and out carrying stacks of little brown pie bags.

To my immense relief, Donghwan loved the scallop pie. Who could blame him? These flaky pastry parcels were packed with scallops in a rich curry sauce, and the bakery was wonderfully generous with the seafood. The strudel was equally impressive and remains the best we have sampled in Victoria so far.

Well fed and slightly giddy from the enormous scallops, we continued on to Surf Beach.

This is where I began to fall in love with Australia.

Walking from the car park toward the shoreline, Donghwan turned to me with a grin and announced,

“This is where Thor surfs.”

I suspect this was the primary reason Surf Beach had made it onto our itinerary.

When I finally saw the beach for myself, it was easy to understand why Thor might choose to surf there. It is possibly one of the most otherworldly beaches on Earth. Painted in soft pastels and veiled in mist thrown up by violently crashing waves, Surf Beach possessed the sort of beauty that makes you question whether what you’re seeing is real.

Three hundred and seventy million years of geological history are visible in the strata of the sea stacks rising from the pale blue ocean. That’s a lot of time for a rock lover to contemplate while wandering along the shore on an Australian afternoon.

Perhaps I was feeling the full weight of deep time.

Or perhaps it was simply very pretty.

Speaking of time, we still had just over an hour to spare before our evening booking, so we took a scenic drive around the island.

In some ways, Phillip Island reminded me of Shetland.

Instead of sheep dotting the green fields, there were geese. Geese everywhere. They honked, squabbled, and occasionally brought traffic to a standstill. While I am not particularly fond of geese, DH seemed to enjoy them immensely, at least until they blocked the road.

Earlier, I had noticed a sign pointing towards Swan Lake, so we decided to investigate.

The first thing I saw upon entering the car park was the hindquarters of a marsupial disappearing into the undergrowth.

Swan Lake Recreation Area is part of Phillip Island Nature Parks and holds deep significance for the Bunurong, the Traditional Custodians of Milawul, now known as Phillip Island.

The trees have eyes at Swan Lake.

I could feel them watching me.

Not long after we started down the tree-lined path, Donghwan spotted our observer. Standing motionless in the shadows was a wallaby, upright and still as stone. It showed no fear whatsoever.

After an uncomfortably intense staring contest, we continued towards the wetlands while our silent watcher remained behind.

At the end of the path, wooden bird hides overlook the lake and surrounding mudflats. Because it was autumn and water levels were low, we were treated to an impressive display of birdlife spread across both the ground and the sky.

On our way back to the car, we spotted several more wallabies.

They seemed to materialise from nowhere.

I think they had been there the whole time; we simply had to learn how to see them.

Or perhaps not.

Which brings me to the highlight of our day trip: the Penguin Parade.

I cannot recommend this experience highly enough.

Watching the tiny penguins emerge from the sea and waddle home to their burrows in the dunes felt almost miraculous. What had begun as a long, cold wait suddenly erupted into a joyful atmosphere as these little blue-and-white darlings appeared from the darkness, seemingly eager to share the day’s adventures at sea with their families and neighbours.

I was disappointed, however, by the number of visitors who ignored the rules. Despite multiple announcements in at least two languages explaining that phones and photography were prohibited during the parade, many people continued to use camera flashes and phone lights as the penguins made their way ashore.

It is difficult to understand why someone would travel to witness such an extraordinary natural phenomenon only to risk frightening the animals they came to see.

After all, this beach has been the penguins’ home every night for thousands of years.

If you do visit the Penguin Parade, please respect the rules and take advantage of the excellent professional photographs included with your ticket instead.

As we drove home that evening, I found myself thinking about the wallabies.

I think they had been there the whole time, hidden among the trees while I searched for them.

Perhaps Australia has been much the same.

For eighteen months, I have searched for a place that could heal my homesickness for Scotland. What I discovered on Phillip Island was not a replacement for the landscapes I loved. Scotland remains Scotland.

Instead, I found something entirely different.

And somewhere between the misty waves of Surf Beach, the watchful wallabies of Swan Lake, and the tiny penguins returning home beneath the stars, I finally learned how to see Australia.