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...