Lights, Camera, Penguins!

Yesterday was my first real day of my Tasmanian adventure. I say this because, even though I arrived Sunday, picked up the car, and spent the day in Lonnie - in reality, all I did was Lonnie. So it didn't really feel like I was doing any travelling around. I was just enjoying being in the wilderness that is the Cataract Gorge. And then depressed by the whole modem saga.

So yesterday I felt it was my first real foray into the world of travelling again. But clearly I am extremely out of practice, because it took me an eternity to actually get anywhere. Agnieszka would say that that is actually not out of character, and to a certain extent, I would agree - but even for me, there was so much more faffing than normal.

Firstly I have to talk about the snoring woman. By the time I went to bed the night before, my room mates had grown from 2 to 5 - so there was 6 of us in the room. But one of the ladies was considerably older than the rest (no, not me) and she obviously had a bit of a breathing problem. Snorting and so on in her sleep. Kept us all awake.

The next morning, she stayed in bed way past an acceptable time, and we were all having to pussy foot about, trying to sort our stuff out and so on - and this annoying yit was still asleep in the room. After I cooked my breakfast, at about 9.30am I went back to the room and she was just starting to get up. I politely asked if she had slept well (at least then maybe one of us would have!) but either she has a severe mental health problem, or she misheard - because she started harping on about some bus accident she'd had 19 years ago and she was putting in a claim but the insurance company weren't honouring it because it was outside of 12 months or something. Sorry I asked. So I tried to politely make it look like the conversation was over, I'm leaving now - but she still didn't take the hint. Not even when I had my backpack on my back, my back turned to her, and I was half way out the door - in fact she followed me out to tell me more about it! So lickety split, when I saw my chance (she was taking a breath), I snatched it, and left!

The weather was pretty miserable and I really hadn't got it clear in my head whether I would head West, towards Cradle Mountain, or East, to Beaconsfield. So I decided to go to the Tourist Information to get, well, information to inform my decision making. Next door to the TI office was the Bureau of Meterology. I decided to pop in to see what the weather forecast was doing - no good going to Cradle if it was snowing, I wouldn't be able to get up there in the hire car. Half an hour later and I was still confused - despite the lovely man's efforts to help.

I eventually, after much back and forthing in my mind, decided to head East, towards Beaconsfield - but by the time I hit the road half the day had gone. And the problem is, once you're on the road, you see this sign, that sign, another sign - all for distractions along the way - so you pop off here, there, everywhere - and suddenly its nightfall and you haven't done very much. Or thereabouts.

So en route to Beaconsfield I stopped off at a vineyard to take a photo (this is the winery area of Tasmania apparently) because it was called Moore's Hill. I met two lovely ladies there from Cairns, who have a niece studying at my school. How bizarre.

Then I made my way to the Mine and Heritage centre, which was very interesting (well the bit about Brant Webb and Todd Russell's rescue was - the rest I could have skipped happily - stuff about life during WWII in Tasmania, a load of tractors and so on - and a heap of old phones?). Grabbed a quick pastie at the local bakery and then decided I'd do one of the walks from my book.

That's when I realised that 20 kms in Tasmania is not like 20 kms in Brisbane. 20 kms in Brisbane you can achieve in next to no time - in theory, 20 mins. 20 kms in Tasmania is more like an hours' drive, depending upon where you are. So I fast realised I was going to run out of daylight if I pursued this idea. Stopped off instead at Yorktown, one of the earliest British settlements, settled in 1804 and abandoned by 1811. There really isn't anything there, but anyway. I saw it.

I then headed back to Batman bridge to cross the Tamar and head up the valley the other side. Went to George town (nothing there) and then out to Low Head. At Low Head I visited the light house, which was, well, a light house - but the view over the mouth of the river was lovely (despite being breathtakingly cold). I saw a sign by the side of the road for Fairy Penguin tours. Leaving fom that point every night, for $16 you can join a tour to see the penguins come up the beach - but it leaves at 5.30pm, and it was 4pm when I saw the sign. What to do? If I stay to see the penguins, where do I stay the night? It will definitely be dark then. And if I skip it - again, where do I stay the night?

I decided to see the penguins anyway and figure out the accommodation question later (I did go back to Georgetown to see if there was any backpacker accommodation - but there wasn't). Anyway, at about 5pm I went back to Low Head and there was already a car there, waiting at the sign. An older woman got out, and boy did she look a sight. Imagine an old sailor, you know, a real 'sea dog' - and then imagine him female. That's what this chick looked like. She hobbled away from her car and I thought to myself, well, good luck to that chick if she's coming on this tour. I didn't see where she went though. Anyway, about 5.20 I decided to get out of the car and see if there was somewhere to wait - and I discovered a shack with a light on just around the bend - and that old woman there behind the counter! Yep, you guessed it - she was the chick running the tour!

Turns out I was the only one on the tour. It was good though, because we got to see quite a few fairy penguins - although there really wasn't any point for me to have my camera there - the blighters move too quick and in the darkness, even with Shirley the Sea Dog's torch, you can't get a good picture. But it was an enjoyable experience anyway.

So after that, I phoned up the next closest youth hostel - Bridport. An hour away. Off I go. The hostel guy, upon learning I was travelling from Low Head, suggested that I might need to be wary of kangaroos on the road. Just as well - Tasmania is road kill capital after all - because I did see one, sitting there by the side of the road, ready to pounce! Luckily he didn't and I arrived in Bridport, in the dark, quite late - but in one piece.

What a fabulous day though. The Tasmanian adventure has well and truly begun...

You Wouldn't Read About It, Would You?

If Agnieszka was reading this, she'd be laughing and shaking her head at the same time. That's because what I'm about to tell you is completely in character for me when I'm travelling. You see, not a day goes by, when I'm travelling with Aga, that I don't have a mini panic about my purse, or my camera, or some other precious thing - which usually results in me either having to up-end my whole bag and empty out all the compartments, or patting myself down in a kind of strange, 'get these mosquitoes off me' sort of dance. It drives Agnieszka nuts.

Anyway, I literally, minutes ago, finished blogging about my stolen USB modem. I was having to do my internetting on the crappy wifi at McDonalds, and just as I posted my post, I got knocked off the network (no I wasn't downloading anything Mel!). So, as its getting late, and very cold, I headed back to the hostel. When I got there, I was just about to go up to my room, but still feeling very perplexed about the whole missing modem thing, I felt the prompting to have one last look in a place I hadn't checked. The fridge.

The fridge? Why? Because when I got back from shopping I chucked my phone and purse into the plastic bag to bring it in from the car. I had two plastic bags, and when I was on the modem rampage, I only checked one - because the other one had a huge hole in the side and I kept saying to myself, I was looking at the modem before I went to the shop - so how could the modem be involved with the groceries?

Anyway, as I said, I felt prompted to check the groceries again, and this time I checked the holy bag as well. And lo and behold, there it was!

Fortunately the cold of the fridge doesn't seem to have done it any harm, I'm using it now...

Thank you Lord! What a relief! But I'm still going to sleep with my cameras and my phone...

It Had To Happen Sometime I Suppose

Well, I've entitled this the way I have because in some 15 years or more of hostelling, until now, this has never happened to me. Ever. And I still live in hope that perhaps I will get back to the hostel and discover that it didn't actually happen. Because to be honest, it is just sooo surreal...

But let me just tell the tale from the beginning. This morning, at Stupid O'Clock, I spent a shed load of money (well, $26) getting a taxi to the airport for the start of my Tasmanian adventure. I was sooo excited, I haven't travelled anywhere in an eternity (it seems - actually its only been 18 months) but clearly that amount of time has made my brain go soft and caused me to lose my travel-savvy, as you will see later. But I digress.

I got a Jetstar flight to Launceston. 2 1/2 hrs or something - quite respectable. The flight left on time, the service was reasonable (for a no frills airline - to be honest I slept most of the way) and the journey was pretty uneventful. Went through arrivals (past the sniffer dogs looking to see if you've brought any fruit to the Apple Isle - phew! I hadn't...), picked up my bag and then began the interesting task of collecting my rental car. You see, I had made a preliminary booking 2 days ago, but hadn't received any confirmation, so I booked with another company - or so I thought. At 11.30pm last night I discovered the confirmation email in my spam box, and as they charge you regardless, I had to quickly cancel Budget and go with this company, Red Ribbon - or something. They don't actually have a desk at the airport - you arrive, phone them on a mobile, and then a bloke swings by with your car, takes you back to their office and you sort out the paperwork. Quite wierd - but looks ok I guess. I've got a neat little red Hyundai Getz or something. Anyway, Dad had been talking to me before I hired it, telling me I should get the extra insurance and so on, which I never do. But it played on my mind so when I received an email offering me a discount for it, I took it. And then regretted it - when the bloke at Red Ribbon told me that I actually hadn't purchased cover with them, but with the internet brokers who sold me the car hire (who are in New Zealand!) - so if I have a prang (and I'm only covered if the prang is with another car - if I hit a tree well, that's it - not covered) I have to pay the $2000 excess to Red Ribbon first, then claim it back off these Kiwis. Well you know getting that money back will be like getting blood from a stone! So I'm stuffed...

Anyway, I drove into Launceston and after quite a lot of faffing about (photographing the car and so on before I left, figuring out where to go, what to do... yada yada) I managed to negotiate my way to Cataract Gorge. This is just a beautiful place - a nature wilderness in the heart of the city - I don't know how many kilometres and so on it is, but boy I had a lovely walk there. I did the 'zig zag' trail, which is apparently for hikers (that's code for 'this is going to be a little bit strenous so you better think about if you can handle it). You climb up the side of the gorge, with magnificent views, round a corner and there is the First Basin, with chair lift and a suspension bridge going across it. I carried on from there (that walk was supposed to take 20 minutes but hey, I was taking photos - so it was a lot longer) because I wanted to see the Second Basin. Well apparently it was another 20 minutes to the Second Basin, and probably it was, but again, lots of photos. But boy was I starting to feel it - hiking in jeans just doesn't cut it - and there were people running along the track in skimpy shorts and so on (its winter now and freezing - but in the sun its quite warm).

Made it to the Second Basin, and then decided to head up to Duck Reach power station. Well this bit of the journey was to take 45 minutes - and again, took me a bit longer - but was well worth it. The power station building is still there and you reach it from another rickety suspension bridge.

Anyway, after that it was getting on for 2pm so I decided to head back, as there was more of Lonnie to see. Got back about 3ish and did a bit of a wander around town (I was looking for a supermarket actually but didn't find one until much later). Anyway, walked around City Park - saw the monkeys, the pavillion, the turned off fountain - it was all very beautiful (very Victorian actually). Made my way down to the Esk river and had a bit of a wander past Boag's brewery, the Seaport marina (stopping off for a coffee there) and then wandered back into town. By this point it was getting on for 4.30pm and it was absolutely freezing! I could barely feel my hands.

So I made my way to the hostel, which is actually quite nice - a bit bohemian, but then, it is called the Arthouse after all. And that's when everything started to go to pot.

I was sorting through my bag in order to get everything ready for the evening, and I thought to myself, I must get the USB modem out and put it in a safe place so that I can look stuff up on the internet later. So I got it out and put it in a safe place.

Or so I thought. Because after this, I headed back to the car and set off in search of either a supermarket or dinner, and eventually found a Coles. Did my shopping, headed back and went to get out the modem so I could have everything ready to go - to do my internetting down in the common room after dinner.

But the problem is, I couldn't find the modem. At all. I have upended my bag so many times now, patted down all my pockets, searched through absolutely everything (including going back out to the car) and I can not find it. And then I was filled with dread, as I think that maybe someone has been through my bags and nicked it. But if they were going to nick the modem, wouldn't they take the netbook too? I know its a PC, but hey. Someone might want it.

So I don't think that anyone has been through my bag. What I actually think is, that when I got it out earlier, I put it on the bunk above me - and maybe I left it there. And that would be very tempting for someone in the room now, wouldn't it? The thought just makes me sick. $129 USB modem, gone. And how am I going to do my research and blog now for the rest of the trip? Realistically, I can't buy a coffee every night and sit in McDonalds (like I am now).

I went down to reception to see if anyone has handed it in, but alas, no one has. Which now fills me with more dread - because I can't leave my netbook in the car overnight, so I have to have it in the room. Do I sleep with it, and my cameras, and my phone - in case someone tries to nick them? I don't know...

What a horrible ending to such a lovely day. Here's hoping tomorrow is better...

The Idea of North and James Morrison

On Sunday night I took my family to the Powerhouse to see the wonderful The Idea of North and the inimitable, indescribable and totally incredible James Morrison. What a fantastic performance!

The concert was to celebrate the release of their new collaborative album, Feels Like Spring, which, let me tell you, is just awesome. But another reason that the concert was so special to me, was that my whole family there - my whole original family that is - Mum, Dad, Mel, Beck and myself. The first time in I don't know how long since we attended something like that, just us - no kids, no husbands - just us. Don't get me wrong, I love spending time with the extendeds, but it was truly special that it was just us.

I had decided to give this concert to Mum as her mother's day gift, and then it kind of spiralled from there, as I realised I could knock off everyone else's birthday present as well. And it was truly fantastic, we had a brilliant time. One of the funniest moments of the day though, occurred before the actual concert. You see, Dad had been playing a gig at Morris Feng's (his dentist - what a name for a dentist!) and so I had picked Mum up and we had hung around the flat here. Mel and Beck picked us up en route - but Dad had already arrived at the Powerhouse. As the time was getting close, he walked around the very small car park and baggsied a spot for us. We however were stuck in one way traffic trying to get back around, and meanwhile another woman was trying to park in our spot. She was asking Dad to get out the way and he told her he was minding it for us as one of us was handicapped and some able-bodied blighter had parked in the disabled spot. She then found a spot two cars down from us - but at the same time as we were pulling in - so Dad runs over and tells us that one of us has to act disabled because of his white lie and because the woman could see us. So, Beck being the actress, we volunteered her. Well! I have never ever laughed so hard - Beck gets out and does her impression of, well, I don't know how to say it in PC terms - but in non PC terms, a spastic - sooooo funny! And then Dad decides to be PC Plod and leave a note on the windscreen of the people who had illegally parked in the disabled park - as only Dad would do - and we all thought that was terribly amusing too!

The concert itself was spectacular (Smile was a particular favourite - with comedic moments by James and the drummer, and Dear John was another favourite) and the playing just wonderful - it was a true 2 hours or so of Heaven. They are such brilliant singers, TION, and their harmonies were so intense, so clever and so spot on. And James, well, he is such an amazing entertainer, that man - and such an awesome musician. One of the things that James Morrison is particularly known for, outside of his fantastic playing ability, is his interest in inventing things and in technology - he did after all invent the "Morrison Digital Trumpet" which is a midi trumpet which can play any instrument and any sound - and doesn't require you to buzz your lips like when playing a regular trumpet. At the last concert of his I went to, in January when Tara was visiting, he had a keyboard that would let him "sing". And today of course was no different, as he pulled out his latest invention - the Bass Trumpet. Actually its not the first Bass Trumpet in the world, but by golly was it a beauty - and the sounds he could get out of it! Think like a Eupho but with a slightly brighter sound. Yummy. But that wasn't all - he also had something else. Something I was very envious of. In fact, extremely envious.

I speak, of course, of the iPad. Now I know that the iPad has only just come out in Australia, and he probably got his in America or something, and I have actually seen one - my friend Justin has one - but I had never ever thought of using an iPad like he was using it. He had all his music on it - it was awesome. I thought he was using a pdf or something of his music but I later found out from Justin that he would have been using an App called iReal Book, an amazing App that has hundreds of Jazz Charts on it - and the ability to add your own. So of course I had to download it the next day to my phone! Anyway, here is a little bit of illegal footage of the Bass Trumpet that one of our party (who will remain nameless but is blonde) took on their phone:

It was such a brilliant concert, we had such a good time - and then to cap it all off Dad took us for dinner at Sitar in Albion which we enjoyed on Bartercard! A truly top evening, thanks family!