When planning a romantic weekend away, one often takes for granted that the weather will be perfect and that everything will go as planned. That isn’t often the case.
As Lamb and I were preparing for our trip down the Great Ocean Road and through the Otways last weekend, there were serious threats of rain on every radio and television station (not to mention the phone calls from her mother begging us to stay home), but when you have your heart set on camping by the beach and cooking every meal on a tiny portable stove that you bought especially for the occasion, a little rain isn’t going to get in your way. So we packed up the car, tied the surfboards to the roof (one for her to surf on and the other for me to paddle around on to keep her company and get a little arm work out) and headed out of the city.
The hammering rain caught us just before Geelong but it passed over Airey’s Inlet, so we pulled in at A la Greque, ate extravagantly and drank too much sambuca, spending the money I would have liked to have invested in a night in the hotel room – I was already on my way to giving up on the camping fantasy. So we compromised and slept in the car.
Trips with Lamb are essentially adventures in search of hidden treasure so we drove and drove the next day, pulling on to 4-wheel drive tracks when they held the promise of a beautiful beach at the end. When we came up onto the ridge at Lavers Hill, the pleasant sea mist that kept us company along the majority of the trip turned into a total white out and we were forced, grudgingly, to pull into the pub. The publican, a nearly middle aged Melbourne-born man who had been living in the area for over 15 years, told us about a public camp site at Aire River. We made our way back down towards Joanna and reluctantly set up camp in the rain. I was ready to give up again after we’d wiggled our way out of a sticky bogged-in-sand situation and the tarp that we were planning on cooking the prawns that we’d picked up at the fishmongers cooperative in Apollo Bay simply refused to settle down. So we compromised again, and slept in the car.
With renewed enthusiasm after a surprisingly decent night of sleep, the morning opened with a bit of sun and things were looking up. Lamb and I got a tip off about a Redwood forest that, being the tree-hugging romantic that I am, I ran through maniacal with glee – Redwoods and gum trees in one little patch of forest! What could be better?! She finally managed to drag me out of the magical forest (I escaped from the locked car twice to run back in for one more look) and we were headed back into Melbourne, feeling satisfied by our accomplishments in adventuring – we definitely had picked up a story or two.
As we navigated through the Otway ranges we came upon a town called Forrest, which I thought was funny because, duhh, it’s in the forest. All of a sudden the car jerked left, pulled over next to a tiny, old blue pick up and Lamb cut the ignition. Treasure hunter’s instinct had led us to the newly opened Forrest Brewing Company. Run by sibling duo, Sharon and Matt Bradshaw, the microbrewery and café opened on cup day to every local’s delight. The pair converted what had been a run down old shed, which they bought over eight years ago, into a beautiful and in it’s own rustic and rough around the edges way, elegant space. Sharon heads up the front of house, offering a varied and well-rounded menu. The brewery is Matt’s end of things – he’s been a home brewer since he was 17 and has finally, with the Forrest Brewing Company, taken his passion and his talent to the next level.
In addition to their own brew, they stock some other prominent local microbrews like the Geelong’s Beacon Brewery’s Extra Special Bitter, Camperdown’s Red Duck and beer from the Warnambool based Flying Horse brewery.
As far as treasure hunting in Victoria goes, expect the Forrest Brewing Company to situate itself firmly on the treasure map within the next year. They’re all about the local, so if you want to try their brew you’ll have to travel to Forrest – it’s worth the schlep.