Salamanca Saturday

Saturday in Hobart can only mean one thing – Salamanca Markets!

Beck had absolutely raved about these to me, and to be fair, I wasn’t really expecting much – I personally am not a fan of markets and didn’t really think that there would be anything special about these ones. However I was pleasantly surprised.

Whilst there still was the usual market tat that you can expect at this sort of things, there was such an array of interesting foods to try, that I found that there was plenty to occupy me. Knowing that the markets run from 8.30 – 3pm, I decided to get there early because, as I have discovered, time goes very quickly here on my TTA, and I really wanted to capitalise as much as possible on the full daylight hours. Therefore I arrived at the markets bang on 8.30am.

This was actually a bit silly, as there were still lots of stalls setting up – so even though I had a strategy about how I would walk around the market, I still ended up needing to go back over my steps at the end because new stalls had opened up which I needed to see. No matter, it was very enjoyable anyway.

I should’ve realised there would be lots of nice foods to try before I came to the market – if I had done that, I wouldn’t have had breakfast before I came! But it didn’t really matter – I managed to squeeze it all in. I’m getting a bit worried though about our upcoming cruise – having literally eaten my way across Tasmania, I’m sure my hips are expanding with each waking moment – causing issues for my cruise wear… There will be much pain and suffering I’m sure back at the gym with Andy my personal trainer! If I’ve learned one thing its this – if you gain, you pain!

Anyway, at the market I tried lots of different fudges, cookies, nougat, lollies, tempura mushrooms, dim sums, a wonderful raspberry meringue thing served with cream and coulis, and even dutch donuts (which can I just say were to die for!). I literally ate my way through the market. Soooo yummy. And still soooo much more I could’ve had. Then there was the crafts – wooden objects made of Tasmanian huon pine, knitwear, your standard Indian saris and so on, little knicky knacky noos – lovely. Plus Tasmanian honey, mustards… divine! I was in heaven…

After this, I really needed to do some exercise, so I got out my trusty “100 walks in Tasmania” book, and lo and behold, there was one for Hobart! So I checked out the Georgian buildings in Battery point, wistfully looked in the windows at the lovely Jackman and McRoss café (but being too full of market to partake), enjoyed walking through St Davids park (even reading the gravestones there which have been laid into a walkway there), then heading down to the wharves – again, I don’t see the point of Constitution Dock – then heading past the Art Gallery and National Museum, the Town Hall, Franklin Park and the GPO. I can’t believe how English Hobart is. For that matter, I can’t believe how English Tasmania is – its more English than England! Beautiful Georgian and Victorian architecture, gorgeous farmlands, luscious hillsides – add in a few drystone walls and you’ve got the Yorkshire Dales! I guess that’s why I’m loving Tasmania so much… it is just so beautiful.

Anyway, I found myself now with an afternoon free, having explored the city as much as I could. I therefore decided to make my way up Mt Wellington, seeing as the weather was actually very pleasant, and quite clear. I figured there would be some good views of the city and the harbour from up there.

It was just magnificent - except for the fact that it was practically arctic! Ok, that’s an exaggeration – as there wasn’t any snow – but seriously people, it was freezing! Of course it didn’t help that I had left my beanie in the hostel… lucky I had my gloves, fleece and coat!

Mind you, I did see some complete lunatics up there – like the Maoris who thought it ‘cool’ (literally) to take off their jumpers and take photos just in a singlet top, shorts and thongs! Clearly a few sandwiches short the picnic there!

After this, I debated whether to go to Richmond, or to take on the Huon trail. In the markets I had tentatively booked a tour of Bruny Island tomorrow – so that would mean Sunday night in Hobart still. If that was the case, then I would most likely have to skip the Huon trail – as Sunday would be Bruny Island, therefore Monday, I could achieve Richmond en route to either Strahan or somewhere north. So I decided, on Grandma’s advice, to have a look around the Huon trail. The Huon valley is a very pretty part of Tasmania. Obviously this is where they get the Huon pine from for the timber products they make, but there are also some very beautiful valleys, lakes, rivers and farms in the region. Unfortunately I didn’t have enough time to travel down to Hastings to see the caves and the glow worms, which I would have liked, but still I was pleased with what I saw.

When I arrived back at the hostel the dorm room was full. I met an interesting woman there who had lived for a time in Norway, and then in England, and was now back in Melbourne. She had an English affected Australian accent. She was much like many Aussies that I meet in backpackers – they either fall into the ‘I’m from Australia the greatest country in the world and I’m here to convert everyone else to how fantastic it is’ category, or they’re from the ‘I’m from Australia the greatest country in the world and I’m here to tell you about all the fantastic places I’ve been which are way better than anywhere you’ve been’ category. She was from the latter. I let her, for a time, have her moment of glory – and then I let her have it. Trust me, I’m from the latter too – and having visited some 52 countries of the world, I usually can win this argument. That pretty much well shut her up. That being said though, she had been on a very interesting tour of Tasmania and I managed to glean from her a new suggested itinerary for the next few days. Which of course, when I got up the next morning, I promptly changed!

But I’ve had a brilliant time in Hobart, and am really looking forward to the rest of my TTA.

Chocaholics Anonymous

When I left off yesterday basically I was en route to Hobart from the Tasman Peninsula. I had been to Port Arthur in the morning, and then made my way around the peninsula, stopping off at Tasman Arch, the Devils Kitchen, a Blowhole, and the Tasmanian Devil conservation park. I also stopped off for a quick look at Eaglehawk Neck, as well as stopping at a few lookouts along the route, which gave spectacular views of the cliffs and the bays of the Peninsula. Such spectacular views!

Tasman Arch

Cliffs at the Devils Kitchen

I actually found myself making good time into Hobart, such a change on this trip. This was just as well as I had realised pretty early on that, being Friday, today would be my best opportunity to visit the Cadbury chocolate factory – as it is, according to my guide book, only open Monday to Friday. I doubted very much that I would still be in Hobart come Monday as my fortnight would be half over and I had hoped to be heading towards the West coast by then.

The Cadbury chocolate factory is like a childhood dream come true. Literally, from the second you step in the doors, a feeling of madness takes over, as you are transported into the magical world of chocolate – like a child in a candy store. Everywhere you look is chocolate – well not literally, but there is a lot of it. The first step in transporting you back 20 – 30 years is the display of TV ads by Professor Julius Sumner Miller – famous for his totally random experiments and then linking these scientific elements to the goodness of Cadbury dairy milk chocolate – with its famous ‘glass and a half of full cream milk in every 200g block’! I mean, these days, knowing that its full cream milk – well, that’s a problem for those of us with weight watcher backgrounds. You need it to be skim milk! The second step to the madness is the actual Cadbury store itself. Its completely nuts, you go in there and you see totally mad specials everywhere – and suddenly money becomes immaterial, as you think instead about all the savings you’re making – sample bags for $6.50 (and you get to fill them yourself), 2-3 200g blocks of a variety of flavours for $6 (compared to the $3 you’d pay for just 1 in the shop!) – its just madness. So of course, I went completely overboard – buying this, that, and everything for my nephews, nieces, sisters and so on – and then I suddenly realised that I hadn’t actually bought anything for myself! Suffice to say I spent an obscene amount of money on chocolate! The thing is, if you’re buying lots of 200g blocks of chocolate – well 5 of those make a kilo, and there’s a limit to how much weight you can carry on the plane – so how to get all this lovely chocolate back for the family? Cadburys, in their wisdom, have sorted that out too – with postage and packaging deals for boxes of various sizes. That’s actually quite ingenious, because what happens is, you end up whacking more chocolate in there as you figure, well, if I’m paying for a medium size box, then I should fill it! So hence I am seriously broke after my visit to the Cadbury factory.

The thing I really liked about the factory, aside from the chocolate shop, was the presentation. Although entry to the factory cost $7.50, and you don’t actually get to see them make the chocolate, they do give you a little presentation and demonstration of how they actually make the chocolate. And they give you tastes of it at every stage, as well as lots of free samples. So it really was worth the experience – even if it cost a packet! Hopefully the nephews, nieces, sisters, and their husbands will be appreciative of the little gifts coming their way…

Surprisingly, all this took about an hour and half, and I literally left the factory at closing time (3pm in Winter). At this point I debated about heading to Richmond to have a ‘quick look’ at the buildings there – but knowing that sunset is at 4.45 or so, I figured it wouldn’t really be worth it, so I headed off for my hostel – the Tassie Backpackers @ The Brunswick Hotel.

I had thought I was being quite smart booking centrally in Hobart. That was until I realised that, the downside of that is that there is no parking. Normally for me this isn’t a problem – but I have a hire car – so I had to be a bit creative. Fortunately 2 streets away from the hostel there was a parking bay that was paid until 5pm, and thereafter was free until Monday 9am. This wasn’t the case in front of the hostel – paid until 5pm and then charging again from 9am on Saturday. So I took everything out of the car, locked it, and said a quick prayer that it wouldn’t be damaged or so on whilst I was in the hostel 2 streets away. Luckily all was good!

The hostel, whilst being quite drab on the outside, and with very dated décor inside, was quite clean (except for the kitchen – clearly people were capable of washing up their dishes but incapable of putting them away!). The dorm I was in had six beds and was quite tiny, but fortunately for the first night there was only two of us in there. The second night was more of a challenge – as it was full – and with international students who were long term in Hobart – so they had a load of luggage!

Downstairs there was the actual Brunswick Hotel – a bar with a woodfire, which made it quite cosy to sit in there in the evenings and do internetting – especially as their wifi was free.

My first night in Hobart, after checking in to the hostel, involved walking around seeing as much as possible. I headed down to Constitution Dock, which quite frankly was a bit of a disappointment – I don’t see what the hue and cry is over it really. I did however partake of fish and chips off the trawlers there (a bit overpriced in my opinion, but still quite nice). I sat on the chairs outside the trawlers and got attacked by seagulls hoping for a sliver of fish!

It soon got too cold to stay out however, so I fairly quickly headed back to the hostel for a relatively early night. After all, tomorrow is a big day…

Face To Face With The Devil

I woke up early on Wednesday in Swansea with really only a vague idea of an itinerary. Having slept on it the night before, I decided against Mr DIY Motorbike's suggested itinerary of Lake Leake (I'm sure its very pretty) in favour of pressing on towards the goal - Port Arthur. But en route, I wanted to stop off at Triabunna and find out whether there was any chance I could get a ferry to Maria Island in the next few days, as I had read about the walks there and the convict history of the place. I thought that would be a nice introduction to Port Arthur. Of course, before I even left Swansea though I had to do a bit of a walk about town - and was glad I did, as it was very picturesque. My favourite bit was when I reached a sign called Loontitetermairrelehoiner - an ancient Aboriginal walking track around the Headland - of course I had to do that!

Alas, upon my arrival in Triabunna, the Visitor's Information Centre really didn't know much more than I had been able to glean at the free internet I'd happened upon at Swansea. I know, there was a sign indicating that the internet cost $3.00 for 15 minutes or something, but seriously people, if you're going to leave a open-ended LAN wire around, you got to expect someone to plug it in to their laptop... plus Mr DIY Motorbike had even told me to do it. He reckoned he was mates with the manager and that it wouldn't be a problem. Well, I'm not one to look a gifthorse in the mouth now, am I? Especially as my USB dongle thing wasn't picking up a signal in Swansea.

Anyway, at Triabunna the VIC told me that the ferry would be running on Friday. Ok, so I quickly hunted down the backpackers in Triabunna to see if they had vacancies for tonight (Thursday night). Then common sense struck - what was there to do all day in Triabunna - wouldn't I just be better to head on to Port Arthur and re-evaluate my position from there, having confirmed the ferry sailings with the ferry company (as the VIC had advised me to do)? So I pressed on, past the lovely Orford (sooo pretty, especially the bridge crossing the Prosser River in the heart of the town), and then suddenly realised, yet again, that time was fast getting away from me, as by now it was getting on to 1230, and I was still some distance from Port Arthur, and obviously you need quite a bit of time at Port Arthur to really see everything...

I arrived at Port Arthur at about 1.40pm, and immediately it became apparent that this was way too late. As part of the "Bronze" tour pass, you get a free introductory walking tour and a free harbour cruise - but for me to be able to do both, I would have to do the last ones of the day - 3pm harbour cruise and 3.30pm walking tour... interestingly if I had been but 10 minutes earlier I could have made the 1.30pm walking tour which would have been much better. Alas, its no good crying over spilt milk, in this case, that which you cannot change, so I took a deep breath, rocked on my heels a bit, and bang! off I went to try and see everything I possibly could.

Of course, I couldn't see everything in that ridiculous time frame, but I gave it my best shot. I have to say though, the whole time, whilst I was looking at some very beautiful buildings - they are quite attractive - I felt a strange, oppressive feeling - just like I was face to face with the Devil. And in reality, when you think about all the atrosities that took place there - and I don't just mean the convict era, but also the whole Martin Bryant thing - its not surprising, is it? What acts of evil took place there! What horrors has that area seen? I felt strangely cold, and oppressed.

The harbour cruise and the walking tours were very informative, and the buildings were very interesting - and sad - especially the separate prison with the lunatic asylum attached - and even the church was quite oppressive. I did as much as I could in the daylight hours allotted, but still I hadn't scratched the surface. And of course, having literally flown down the peninsula - there were still many more sights to see... and I had, for the first time this trip, pre-booked my accommodation in Hobart...

The only thing for it, was to see if I could get accommodation on the peninsula, and then cancel Hobart. Which I did. I found a cheap bed at the Port Arthur Caravan Park - in their "bunkhouse" - for $28 or something, phoned Hobart and sorted it all out.

The bunkhouse, though, literally was a prison. Imagine a cold, dark, lino floored room, with 3 sets of triple bunk beds, and one poxy little heater. No common room - the closest thing was the camp kitchen area a short walk away - which had a TV that only operated one channel, and a fire place which didn't emit much heat. Suffice to say I cooked up my dinner, had a steaming hot shower, and jumped fair into bed.

At which point my mind started to carry away with me. Here I was in Port Arthur, the epitome of evil - what awful things could happen to me? I assure you, I did a lot of praying that night!

It was sooo cold there too, in that bunkhouse - the doonah barely doing anything to ward off the cold - so I didn't get a really good night's sleep.

The next morning I got up early and was at Port Arthur right at opening time - 8.30am - and I whipped around and finished seeing all I needed to see. I was glad that I had stayed.

After this I made my way towards Hobart, stopping off at lots of very interesting places en route - including a town where all the properties have the word "Doo" in their title - so you get "Doo Little", "Doo Drop Inn", "Doo Write" - and my favourite - "Doo F@#! All". I saw a very interesting blowhole near there, the Maingon Blowhole, as well as the Tasman Arch and the Devils' Kitchen. It was really spectacular.

And then I went to Taranna - where I came face to face with... the Devil. For real.

Yes, I saw my first Tasmanian Devil. In fact, I saw quite a few of them - at the Tasmanian Devil Conservation Park. They actually are quite cute - until you see them eat! They are capable of chewing clear through, and digesting, bone. It was quite gross...

Whilst I enjoyed my time on the Tasman Peninsula, having come face to face with the Devil on a few fronts, I can safely say that I have no desire to meet him again...

TTA Day 4: In Search of The Wineglass

I have been desperately trying every morning to get up early and get on the road quickly. So far, it hasn't happened. This is simply because, when I wake up, its just too cold to get out of bed, so I snuggle back in under the doonah for a bit. When I finally get up, its 8 o'clock or something - actually not so late when you're on holidays - but by the time I have breakfast and get on the road - its gone 9am.

This wouldn't be a problem but for the fact that everything obviously closes earlier in Winter, and also the sun sets quite early too - and obviously you don't want to be driving in the dark, because then you don't get to see anything. What's the point of hiring a car and driving around seeing Tasmania if its dark and you can't see anything?

So every night I go to bed telling myself that tomorrow will be different, I'll get up earlier and get going earlier - and every morning its the same story! Just. Can't. Do. It.

Anyway, I digress. So I finally got out out of the hostel about 9.15am - no mean feat as the boys were still asleep, and I had to be sooo quiet because the kitchen is next to their room. In fact, me being Miss Super Courteous, I didn't even use the kitchen - I went into the building next door where there was another kitchen and made my breakfast there. How considerate am I? Just wish others would be when staying in hostels.

So, I left the hostel at 9.15 and made my way down to the beachfront. I wanted to do a walk along the front there, making my way to the Whaler's Lookout and to the Bicheno Blowhole. According to the book though, this little jaunt would take 2 hours. 11.15. Half the day gone already.

So pretty early on I realised I wasn't going to be able to do the whole walk I had intended - not if I wanted to do Wineglass Bay today - and trust me, I did. I therefore hoofed it back to the car and then drove to the Whaler's lookout and the blowhole. The blowhole was kind of cool, a bit of a puff really, I had expected something a bit more impressive. But its on the list of things to see, and I can say, I saw it.

From Bicheno I headed south on the road to Freycinet (pronounced fray-sin-ay by some locals, and fresh-nay by others - so I still don't know how to say it) National Park, where the famous Wineglass Bay is. I made it by about 12.30 ish, went in and got the lowdown from the National Park people, and then headed off on the track. Being Tasmania, I was prepared for anything, so I had my day sack packed with waterproofs, water, food, fleece - and I had my walking stick too. I must've looked quite a sight! Within minutes of being on the trail all the layers had come off, it was so hot. Whilst I love bushwalking, I am not a fan of going uphill...

That being said though, it was a pleasant walk up to the lookout, and I really enjoyed it. I especially enjoyed the views over Coles Bay en route too. There really is something to be said for being out doors enjoying nature. Just love it.

Anyway, I made it to the lookout in relatively good time, and when I got there I encountered a cute Englishman and his friend who I got to take my picture. Had a nice chat to them, then they left and I sat down for a quick cuppa to enjoy the view. I can't stand how some people race up to see the next big lookout, or important sight, and then never take any time to actually appreciate it. Whilst I was enjoying the view a young couple from Geelong approached, so I dutifully took their pictures for them and had another chat. So much for a quiet enjoyment of the view.

After this, I made my way back down the track to the turn off for Wineglass Bay beach. According to the sign this was going to take 1.5 hours - and it was now getting on in the afternoon - but I decided I wanted to do it. Why come all this way and then not do as much of the walks as you can, to truly get the full experience?

The walk is very steep down to the beach, and the steps (which are just rocks spaced apart) are really large. Upon arrival at the beach I discovered a couple of wallabies. They were relatively tame and obviously used to humans - in fact one group of people were feeding them (bad people!). I wandered up the beach, marvelling at the crystal clear blue water, and then walked over to the rocks on the other side of the cove. I don't know how it is they get their beautiful orange colour, but it is very pretty.

All too soon though the afternoon was getting away and it was time to go. That's when I truly felt the pain of the journey - that is one terribly steep hill! Eventually I puffed my way up the hill and then made it back to the car - the next plan was to find a nice place to watch the sunset. I had realised that it wouldn't be good to watch it at the Wineglass lookout because the sun sets behind the back of the look out - so you can't see anything. I thought I found a good place, at Oyster bay - but then, the sun went behind some clouds and it all just fizzled a bit, so I gave up. Before this though I had made the trip to the lookout at Cape Tourville, which was pretty - some lovely views back over the bay.

Alas, the sun set again way too early and I found myself still about an hour away from my accommodation at Swansea - which meant another journey in the dark -soooo not what I wanted to do.

Upon arrival at Swansea Backpackers I literally went up and down the road several times and could not find the place. I eventually had to resort to asking in the local garage - and clearly many others had too, as he quickly drew a mudmap and told me to turn in the drive of the Bottle Shop next to the Bark Mill Tavern. And so I found it.

What an amazing backpackers! The Lonely Planet describes it as a 'flashpackers' and really, it is. Its been recently renovated so everything is very fresh, very clean, and very new. Again, I had a room to myself - a choice of 5 beds - so I well and truly spread out. I also nicked the doonah off another bed too to have a double layer, as it was quite chilly.

The clientele at this backpackers was a real mix. There was a group of Koreans who were playing Cluedo - sounded quite funny to hear "blah blah blah blah blah Professor Plum blah blah blah library"! Then there was the German hostel manager - a bloke all of about 12 - who had a few mates staying there so they were cooking up their pasta and having their beers. Then there was - and this is the only way to describe it - a derro who obviously lives there long term - long, dirty, straggly blonde hair, drunk at 530 in the afternoon, chatting up anything remotely female and breathing. Suffice to say it was lucky me who had the pleasure of his company whilst eating my dinner. Actually he wasn't all that bad, he was relatively harmless, just clearly a late 30- early 40 something year old who has never grown up - he took great delight in telling me all about this motorbike he'd imported from Japan and assembled himself.

Fortunately he got a call from his 18 year old "friend" and then went out - and I went off to bed, exhausted. Another top day...

Day 3 of TTA: Bridport to Bicheno

So when I left off, I had made a very late dash to the YHA Bridport after seeing the Fairy Penguins at Low Head, because there wasn’t anywhere backpackerish to stay there. BTW, you may be wondering about my title - TTA - well now in true kmuki style, you can't have an adventure without having a name for it. So 3 years back it was the BEAMET - Big Europe And Middle Eastern Trip - then 2 years back the MUSAC - Mexico, USA and Canada - and now the TTA - Trans Tasmania Adventure. Actually I wanted to try and name it TAA - but Tasmanian Awesome Adventure sounded just a bit lame. Oh well.

So back to the blog. I didn’t however get to tell you about the people I met in Bridport. There actually were 4 of us staying in the hostel – how they make a profit, I don’t know, but still – I was grateful that the hostel was actually open. It’s called a Youth Hostel – but none of us were youth. I think I was the youngest there, and I’m 38! I didn’t get the other people’s names, but there were 3 others – 2 men and 1 woman, and they were all on some sort of contract-type / seasonal work in Bridport. I spoke mostly to one man who was quite old and who was there with the woman (his business partner) fixing sheds or something. He told me they were from WA and every year they come over to Tas in the off season, buy a cheap vehicle, and go where the work is, staying in youth hostels on the way. Fair enough. Anyway, he gave me some suggestions for itineraries as I was trying to figure out what to do.

So the next morning I got up, sorted out some breakfast and then made my way to Scottsdale, as per the gentleman’s suggestion (to be honest, it was the only way I could go anyway). Once I got there though, the weather was absolutely miserable! Rain was literally pinging it down, as if God had suddenly decided to have a pressure shower! It was awful. I went to the Visitor Information, which is in the Forestry building, literally a ‘building within a building’ and the woman there waxed on about how it was the wrong time to visit Tas, yada yada, and then proceeded to tell me that there was no way I could do the walk I wanted to do with the hire car I have, because the road is unsealed and I just wouldn’t be able to get there. So I left the visitor centre unsure what to do.

In the visitor centre, however, amongst the brochures she had given me was a suggested driving itinerary for the region. I decided to follow that for a bit. My first stop though took me 4-5 kms down a gravel track, to a little town called Legerwood. Here there are a load of wooden carvings of scenes and soldiers from WW1, which make up the town’s War Memorial.

It was quite interesting. From here I continued back along the Tasman highway to Branxholm, site of the Red Bridge – a bridge honouring the Chinese workers who worked in the mines in this area. The area is tin mining country. The next little stop was Derby, where I was astonished to see so many ‘for sale’ signs, including one on the Anglican church and hall, which actually was quite beautiful. Here also is the oldest timber bank building in Tasmania – also for sale. After Derby I started to realise that time was again, fast getting away from me, so I pressed on towards Pyengana. En route, though, I couldn’t resist the so-called 15 minute ‘rainforest’ walk at Weldborough. Here the rainforest is made up of Myrtle ferns. It actually was very interesting, if not very wet.

Finally, about 2pm, I arrived in Pyengana. The reason for coming here was several, but mostly, because there is a cheese factory here. Not having had lunch, I decided I would stop for the quickest of bites – at least it would have been, if the waitress hadn’t blanked me because I was on my own. It was either that, or the fact that she was on her own – I don’t know. I don’t see how it makes sense to be making lattes and so on for people who are already sitting down, and ignoring the one who is in the middle of a cheese tasting session. She literally said to me, when I asked to try one of the other cheeses, “I’ll be right back” – and then went off to make several coffees and a milkshake for customers who were already being served. Very odd.

I had for lunch there some cheese and chive scones with a lump of Pyengana Cheddar. In the cheese tasting I tried several of their cheddars, including their “Devilish” cheese, which is a mild cheddar made with spicy chillies – which I ended up buying. I don’t really know why – its so blinkin’ hot!

After Pyengana I was pressing on towards St Columbans waterfall, when I came across the “Pub in the Paddock”. Literally, in the middle of nowhere, there was a pub, smack bang in the middle of some paddock! It was very unusual.

By this point, the rain had stopped somewhat, and I was able to appreciate much more the countryside I was seeing. I can not believe how much it looks like England, specifically, the north of England, my favourite part. If you added in some drystone walls, you would have the Yorkshire Dales (my all time favourite place on the planet). I couldn’t travel very quickly because around every bend there was another photographic sight!

Finally though I made it to St Columbans Falls, the longest waterfall in Tasmania. I did the quick walk down to the waterfall, which was very pretty, and then when I got to the falls I couldn’t see a thing for all the spray on my face! But I enjoyed the experience anyway.

After St Columbans it was time to hoof it to the next location – St Helens. I arrived there by about 4pm, but then started to think. Its always a worry when I do that. I began to debate with myself whether I should stay there for the night, or try to press on further down the coast. Of course I should have just stayed, but in the back of my mind, always, is the fact I only have 13 days here, and although jokingly I have, to the people in the visitor information centres, ridiculed those who try to cram in all of Tasmania in one go – I am guilty of trying to do the same thing. So I hummed, and harred, and hummed and harred, and then, as I haven’t had mobile reception for 2 days, went to the payphone to see where the nearest hostel might be outside of St Helens. Turns out it was Bicheno.

In speaking to the man I discovered that should I go to Bicheno, I would be the only person in the hostel. I should have, at that point, politely thanked the young man on the phone and hung up, but there is something attractive about being the only one in the hostel. And I did feel a bit guilted to go, on account of I had bothered to phone and so on – so I accepted the deal. That’s fine, its only an hour or so away – but sunset is around 4.30pm and who wants to drive in the dark? You can’t see anything that way.

So stupidly I hoof it off to Bicheno. That really was a waste as I didn’t get to see much of the lovely beaches en route – I saw some before the sun set – but not all. I arrived in Bicheno and struggled to find the backpackers, which was not in the position the GPS said it was. When I got there, there was no one there, and all the lights were off. Not really a good sign, but the guy had told me to go to the payphone outside reception and dial 8, which would connect to him. I did so, and he advised he’d be there in 5 minutes – but it was more like 15. I got inside eventually and sorted out my stuff. The guy had told me of a few suggested eating places, and although I had my pasta to cook, I decided to go see if I could see the penguins (who also burrow in Bicheno) and get something to eat.

When I got back to the hostel, I was quietly watching TV and using the internet when I heard someone at the door. I got such a fright when it opened and in came two burly (but cute) South African guys carrying a carton of beer over their shoulders. It really freaked me out! Turns out they had checked in not long after me, as a drive by, and had then also gone for food.

Ended up having a long chat with them, which was lovely. I particularly liked the older one! Alas, I was unable to get his number – probably just as well, as he is only visiting from South Africa…

Anyway, it had been a lovely day, but was well and truly time for bed.

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!

Bring It On!

Just wanted to issue a missive out there to all you lowlife Blues supporters... Bring it on! The Queenslanders are back in town and you are in for a major drubbing! Get ready for the 5th in a row Queensland win, and for a 3 nil whitewash!

And to coin a Glee-ism - "That's how Sue sees it". Hehehe!