THE LORNE INDEPENDENT, 20 YEARS ON
The end of this month marks the 20th anniversary of this publication – two hundred and forty editions, countless local issues, a chronicle of a town in evolution. Evolution matters: change is inevitable, adaptation crucial, but how a town changesband adapts to the altering mores, practices, needs, and expectations of its townsfolk—permanent or transient—matters most.
To maintain rude good health, a town and its people must hold to evolutionary theory, for evolution translates into growth. But, if that growth simply reflects size, gluttonous girth, and superficial appearance, it will be growth without heart, soul, or ambience.
Untrammelled urban development that trumpets a ‘big-and- flashy-is-better’ approach risks crushing the foundational characteristics that nourish the local soul. For example, it would be remiss to attend to the external trappings of clothing and makeup while ignoring the wellbeing of the organs within. Some towns along our coast have succeeded in retaining their ambience while evolving. Thus far, Lorne has been one of these lucky few. Others have been less fortunate. While predominantly achieved with equanimity … the faithfully rendered new-for-old swing bridge; the limiting of building heights [though serried hillside three-story developments on a hillside can mimic larger buildings from afar]; the preservation [mostly] of the tree canopy; the horse- and-dray meander of its streets … the 4R’s contest between ‘retention’, ‘renovation’, ‘replacement’, and ‘removal’ has seen some bitter battles. With the pier precinct as the current battlefield, let us hope that local wisdom and common sense prevail here, too.
One insidious ‘creep’ in the 20 years since this journal took its monthly place on Lorne coffee tables has been a ‘blink-and-you-might-miss-it’ change in block coverage. ‘Renovate’ has given way to ‘replace’. Several older homes, once demurely nestled in gardens and greenery, have been purchased and razed, their blocks usurped by ‘townhouse’ developments cradled in concreted paving. ‘Low maintenance’ is their catch-cry. While the town’s eye has been recently focused—or unfocused—on a bitter debate over the fate of the Co-op building [important though that issue is], block coverage has been quietly changing, by stealth, under the town’s nose. Another skirmish to be had!
Also under constant threat—and by-stealth attrition—is Lorne’s tree canopy, with ‘best-views-are-seen-through’ slowly morphing into ‘best-views-are-seen-without’.
Inexplicable tree deaths just keep happening, often in the darndest places! True, the ongoing dilemma between tree cover [for beauty] and tree reduction [for urban fire safety] demands balance on both sides, but wanton removal for the sake of a ‘vegetation-vacant-view’ is hard to justify.
Alfresco dining has slowly made its way along the length [and diminishing breadth] of Mountjoy Parade. The demand for outdoor seating and dining is now fighting a pitched battle with passing traffic—both by foot and vehicle—a situation which will likely rapidly escalate this summer and beyond as the changes wrought by Covid-19 will continue to preference and expand any-weather outdoor service. Through traffic— again by footpath and road—now routinely grinds to a dog- entangled, gridlocked halt throughout the summer weeks, testing patience and fraying tempers. It is hard to see ways by which this can be circumvented or improved. The glittering geography of the Louttit locale that so appeals … the ambience [and constraints] of where-forest-and-mountain-meets-sea… also proves its greatest impediment. Talks of bypasses, an alternate route for through traffic, another bridge, a ‘road round the back’, park and ride—all have come and gone, or provide wine-fuelled discussion topics at the dinner table. But as all these ‘getting through Lorne’ options [and more] would defeat the very essence and ambience of the town, they are not acceptable or practical answers.
As statutory authorities [like GORA] seek to increase visitor throughputs and enhance ‘the experience’ of the Great Ocean Road, Lorne is without doubt both its single greatest attraction and its worst nightmarish impediment. Most towns are capable of expansion, but a few are not. Lorne is certainly not—at least not without destroying the heart and soul of its being. As GORA [and others] seek to promote and expand the GOR experience, due consideration must be accorded to those who live and work in the town.
Fine dining has flourished in recent times, unfortunately time-paired with the frustrating constraints of pandemic ‘ban’-flation. The on-again-off-again insecurity of ‘lockdown’ has devastated our Lorne hospitality venues, yet—bless them—most have soldiered on, and our list remains largely intact. For the resilience of our restaurateurs, Lorne whispers its grateful thanks … may they all long continue.
More pressing, however, is the urgent need for low-cost staff accommodation—indeed, for staff [period]—and both pose dire threats to the viability of our venues, especially in the frantic summer months.
Noticeable has been the rise in the number of retiree permanents—with many renovating previous family holiday houses into comfortable homes—as the baby-boomer generation has wound down to tranquil relaxation by the sea. This steady trickle of added faces has recently morphed into a fast-flowing stream—especially as Covid-19 has encouraged many to forsake the city for ‘the duration’, only to find life in Lorne far more tranquil and fulfilling than ever it was in urban Melbourne. Many escaped for a stay, but now stay to escape.
As a second string to that same bow, the work-from-home edicts of the pandemic showed many younger families that this was a feasible longer-term lifestyle. School enrolments have risen as parents have converted sunrooms to offices or worked from decks, only to de-stress with beach walks, pier- to-pub daily swims, or walks in the bush.
These changes have put additional pressure on local services—especially healthcare—with Lorne and Apollo Bay successfully uniting into Great Ocean Road Health.
One might wonder whether this might set a future coastal precedent, especially as Torquay, Barwon Heads, and Ocean Grove swell into quasi-suburban extensions of Geelong.
Perhaps this is a heretical thought, but a coastal eco- borough stretching from Anglesea to Peterborough and into the hinterland of Deans Marsh, Forest, and Lavers Hill … aka The Otways and the original reach and map-references of the GOR … is a tempting concept.
Indeed, Lorne has changed in the 20 years since the Lorne Independent was born. It has evolved through forestry, to fishing, to year-round tourism, and now a burgeoning retiree destination. Yet, the character of this coastal gem remains intact. The challenge will be to nudge and nurture the town forward, all the while seeking to keep a delicate balance between the beauty [that is its nature] and the beast [that could be careless commerce].
John Agar
