It’s the end of the road. You can’t be passing through as there’s nowhere to go from here.
Loch Sport is the sleepy village at the end of the road in East Gippsland that has captivated me over the past 12 years.
Before buying a beach retreat there over a decade ago, the name of the place always fascinated me. What kind of sport could be had on a Scottish-style loch?
On my first visit you could say I was a bit underwhelmed. After a three-hour drive you’re welcomed by a largely uninhabited town with a shop and a pub and a marina with a ghostly array of bobbing vessels.
This place is wedged on a small strip of land between Lake Victoria on one side and the Ninety Mile Beach on the other. Sounds like the best of all retreats – and it is, but not immediately evident to a new arrival.
It takes time to soak up the natural beauty and subtle charms of this place. There’s hulking great banksias and twisted, leaning tea tree that reminds of the raw beauty of a Fred Williams painting; shaped by the wind and sea, with lakes forged rough by floods and tide.
Lake Victoria dominates the town as it devours the alpine rivers before meeting the open water at Lakes Entrance. It’s a volatile and moody thing this lake. On a quiet evening it exudes the calmness of the Dalai Lama and provides a spectacular sunset.
When a strong wind prevails, best not get in the way of its violent tantrum.
At the end of the road and the end of the town, is The Lakes National Park. A short half-hour walk through a tangle of tea tree and bracken delivers a keen walker to Trouser Bight.
I’ve never seen another human here in my 12 years of walking this track. Never heard anything but the groans of the swaying tee tree and the surprise of a family of swans I’ve startled.
Somehow it feels like it’s my own piece of roughly hewn paradise, but I know from the many footprints in that sandy track that I’m not the only one to fall in love with the raw beauty of this mysteriously hidden place.