Sites and sounds from attempting to travel like a local

Sitting stiff jawed in the back seat, eyes roaming anxiously. I’m missing all the beauty of the Great Ocean Road! That was the purpose of this day, ugh! These thoughts started to sway through my mind about a quarter of the way into the 4 hour drive. Be grateful. Enjoy the parts you ARE seeing, I keep telling myself.
Pass by a strange beach that’s not sand, rather it’s all flat rocks stretching for seemingly a kilometer. I later read in my touristy souvenir book that the name is Blanket Beach – oh it makes sense now!
Up this hill, down the next, wait, why is the road going inland? I thought this was an Ocean Road – meaning it ran beside the water, not into the forest. My friend’s partner speeds through the windy forested road and the three of us in the rear slide into each other just like we were primary school siblings, only now we’re apologizing each time we touch each other. Open the window, let the scent of Australian coastal wilderness carried on eucalyptus breezes flow freely in and reduce my stress.
Time creeps on, the chill of the pending sleeping sun draws near. Dusk at the moment is an enemy, it must wait until our arrival!
Around the next bend, there! The sign stretches its arm directing us to the car park. Hurry Hurry Hurry! No time for toilet breaks, c’mon let’s go! My restrained impatience is fighting stronger to escape the holding of my lips. Down the footpath, under the road, up the raised boardwalk.
If eyes and jaw drops made sounds, they’d be less dramatic than the silence mine were frozen in.
We made it. Right before my very eyes. The Twelve Apostles and the perfect sunset. I’ll never be able to, or ever want to remove that first sighting. The mist rolling in off the sea, creating blurry limestone pillars. Then it happened. Water as aqua and turquoise as possible, white capped waves crashing, and a sky faded as flawlessly as any painter’s dream. That normal sky blue into a baby blue sweeping suddenly to a hint of purple that teases the viewer to think they’re seeing magic. Then the most stunning girly pink that even a man would be proud to embrace surrounding the furthest apricot reaches of the warm glow of peach sunrays encircling a pastel Easter yellow disco ball as it snuggles slowly into the night’s sleep.
The day color became sound and wrapped me so fully that every stress of what I missed washed out with the waves. That’s the one I’ll never forget.