Phillip Island

Friday February 9

After longingly passing by countless vineyards in our travels thus far we decide that today is the day that we are going to try to mix children and wine-tasting.  As Seasoned Travelers with Young Naughty Kids (STYNKs), we decide it's best to go to just one vineyard.  We choose wisely - a vineyard just outside of Mornington that specializes in Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Cheese and most importantly advertises that they have a PLAYGROUND.  Our plan is to wear Rusty out in the playground, have a quiet and relaxing tasting and then have Rusty nap on the late afternoon drive to Phillip Island and be ready for a late-night penguin viewing experience that we have booked tickets for.  Good plan, right?

Rusty doesn't want to leave the playground and have a quiet and relaxing tasting.  We finally coax her through the cellar door and then take turns following her from one "don't touch" to another while trying to listen to descriptions of each wine.  The proprietor is very kind and even lets Rusty join him behind the counter for awhile.  Overall it is enjoyable, but we agree that wine-tasting is much better as a couple than a family.

Time for Part 2 of the plan - the late afternoon nap.  No such luck.  Despite repeated tries of handing Rusty her Princess Blanket and telling her that Puppy was ready for sleepy-sleep she is bright-eyed for the entire drive.  We think there might be some potential for sleep when we arrive at the caravan park but they give us a cabin right next to the jumping pillow and that is that.

The point of driving all the way to Phillip Island is to check out the Little Penguins or as the brochures refer to it, "The Penguin Parade".  We are keen to see these little guys who emerge from the ocean at dusk by the hundreds and make their way to the burrows in the sand dunes where they nest.  We are somewhat appalled, however, by the brochure pictures which show seating and lighting for the penguin viewing that seems like it would be more appropriate at a rock concert.  We are a bit apprehensive about how disturbing the viewing experience is to the Little Penguins.

In terms of natural wildlife viewing it is unbelievably predictable.  There is a sign in the interpretive center stating that the penguins are expected to arrive at 9:38 pm.  Sure enough, 9:38 pm rolls around, and suddenly the penguins emerge from the ocean and waddle their way up the beach, directly past the viewing platform.  They practically stop right in front of you and take a bow. I'm not sure whether there is anything cuter than a fat little penguin tripping its way up the beach but we are all spellbound.  Each time a group of penguins walks by our viewing platform Rusty giggles and asks for 'more, more'.  The penguins are happy to oblige and countless groups of 10 or more parade past us over the next 30 minutes.  My favorite is a little fatty that has to take a break every few feet and sit down to rest - just adorable as he huffs & puffs his way home.  They don't seem bothered by us in the least and we are told that the boardwalks and stadium seating is an improvement over how they were viewed in the past - by driving and parking directly on the beach!  All-in-all we are pretty thrilled with the whole experience.

OK - so you aren't allowed to take pictures of the Little Penguins.  Instead we horse around with pictures of pictures in the interpretive center.

Saturday February 10

Today is awesome.  A chocolate factory first thing in the morning, fish and chips at a fishermans' co-op for lunch, and then koala viewing at a nearby sanctuary in the afternoon.

We found out about the chocolate factory when we passed it on our way to the Penguin Parade.  Ninety percent of their neon signage went to the words "FREE SAMPLES".  With a little hunting, you can also make out the words, "Chocolate Factory".  It shoots straight to the top of our list of places to visit.

Inside we are immediately handed our free sample.  It is a single chocolate disc, about the size of a bottle cap.  It is seriously good.  It is so good that we spring $12 each to take a tour of what we figure will be a lousy look behind the scenes.  They are hiding everything behind a closed door and there are no pictures of what we can expect.  Twelve bucks to see some guy scooping chocolate into a mold?  I don't know...  But we've come this far, and there are people waiting for us to move away from the free sample counter, so in we go.

The tour blows us away.  It's actually a very professionally done chocolate museum.  They tell the whole story of where it grows, how it's processed, and what makes it good.  They have real samples of cocoa at every stage of the process and engaging interactive exhibits.  You grind the beans, you separate the husks, you temper it.  There is a room-sized model village made entirely of chocolate, complete with electric train running through it.  There is a one-tonne block of chocolate, kept just out of reach.  The displays are somehow equally entertaining to 2-year olds and their parents alike.

One display totally floors me.  It's a three-dimensional moving cartoon of chocolate penguins being molded, and then diving into a chocolate pool.  They do things that are impossible, like disappear into the table top, and appear from nothing.  Somehow they have managed to make chocolate come alive and do tricks.  Rusty has her "Does not compute" face on, and so do I frankly, but then the strobe light turns off and the trick is revealed.  The tabletop is spinning and there are dozens of chocolate penguins standing next to each other, each one just one frame different from its neighbor.  They spin at a rate to match the strobe light and voila:  stop-motion modeling.

Next are a series of skill-testing games.  In the first one, you turn a dial to adjust the angle of a ramp.  When you think you've got it right, you press the button to send a foil-wrapped chocolate ball down it.  It jumps off the lip at the end and if it lands in the mouth of the waiting shark, then the ball is delivered to you and you can eat it.  Ellen lands the shark jump first try and the chocolate is the same seriously good stuff as the free sample.  We play the game many more times as well as all the other ones.  The games are not easy and it takes us probably about eight failed attempts at each one for every chocolate ball we win.  We would stay all day but there is a guy whose whole job is to watch you and move you along when you've stayed too long.  The dumb jerk won't leave us alone, so eventually we give in and move to the next room.

Next is a display where you pour chocolate onto a moving conveyor belt and try to make shapes or spell your name or something.  The belt carries your creation to the far side of the room where it drops down into a bowl for you to collect.  We do one for each member of the family and then go and wait by the bowl.  Our masterpieces drop, we eat them, and then carry on to the next station.  Rusty fails to show up at the next station.  I go back around the corner and sure enough, there she is, planted at the bowl, her eyes firmly on the conveyor belt.  It looks like very serious business and I have a hard time explaining why we have to leave this wonderful place, ever, at all.

Lunch at the fishermans' co-op is wonderful and delicious, like it is with most fish and chips places here.  I LOVE FISH AND CHIPS and would eat it for all three meals if I could.  I think Audrey would join me.  Rusty and Ellen on the other hand are not quite as big of fans.

After lunch we go to a koala sanctuary for the long-awaited sighting of a koala.  We have had our eyes peeled in the car whenever there are stands of gum trees and signs saying to watch out for koalas crossing, but haven't seen any yet.  The sanctuary doesn't disappoint.  They have a huge reserve of land with koalas dispersed throughout, and two hot spots enclosed by a koala-proof fence.  In the reserve it's still pretty tough to spot a koala (especially since they barely move, taking an average of 20 hours per day of sleep - not unlike my brother), but in the enclosures, there are 10 to 20 of them and you can't miss them.  They have built boardwalks in the enclosures that put you up in the canopy, level with the koalas, so you can get quite close.

While we're on the boardwalk, one koala stretches out from her tree branch, grabs the hand rail nearest a group of 20 or so people, and climbs aboard.  This causes quite a commotion and there are suddenly 10 or 20 cameras and cell phones surrounding her and following her every step down the handrail.  She seems pretty calm with it all and we wonder if it's a regular thing for her.

After about 15 minutes, a park ranger shows up and puts things on a whole new level of panic.  "STAY BACK EVERYONE!" he shouts.  "CRIKEY!  SHE'S A WILD ANIMAL!"  The koala is sitting on the handrail in the midst of a group of tourists.  "SHE HAS CLAWS AND TEETH AND COULD TAKE YOUR ARM OFF!" yells the ranger.  I think the koala yawned.  We start wondering if he is playing a joke, but his uniform looks genuine enough.  "YOU ARE IN HER HABITAT AND SHE IS FEELING CORNERED.  CRIKEY!  SEE HOW SHE ISN'T MOVING?  THAT'S A SIGN OF STRESS!"  We are glad he told us because it looked like a sign of boredom until then.  The ranger proceeds to throw a burlap sack over the koala, flip the sack upside down to carry it to a scale, weigh it, and then carry it down to ground level to release her onto the trunk of a tree.  She bolts out of the sack and up the tree and we get to see what a truly stressed koala looks like.