SCINTILATING ST HELENS

Tranquil Waters

Well, it just gets better and better – Tasmania that is! I have to confess however, to a certain amount of ennui on both our parts as we are I think finally yearning for the wide open spaces of the mainland – or perhaps – we have just had enough cold and wet for a while. As we intend heading towards the Gippsland when we return to the ‘North Island’ I suspect it will be a little while before that particular wish is granted.

Back to St Helens however – the drive from Swansea was surreal – the sun was shining, the day was warm (by Tassie standards that is) and as we were travelling through lush farming land fringed by turquoise oceans the day seemed incandescent!

We decided that we would leave our photo taking to the following days and after booking in took a brief but very inspiring tour of the small town and surrounds. The whole place seemed to be drenched by water of one kind or another. The town sits on a very protected inlet which sports a small wharf supporting the local fishing boats. The inlet is, from what we saw, generally calm and often prettily reflective. Roads run each side of the town out to the open ocean, which in contrast is quite ferocious. The road to the north takes you out to the famous Bay of Fires which I will tell you a little more about shortly.

Foolishly we thought that we would have good weather for a few days, alas however, the next day dawned bleak and wet – that wet stayed with us for the next four days and we were cross with ourselves for not taking more sunny photos when we had the chance. Not to be deterred however, we made the best of it. The last two days we were there, the sun did come out again and we made up for lost time with the cameras.

Whilst in St Helens we stayed at the Big 4 Caravan Park – apart from a few stalwart permanents, we were for most of the time the only campers. A few others came and went but by and large we had this very well run and friendly park to ourselves. The manager there (Neville) was very obliging and lent DD a ladder in order that he could have yet another attempt at fixing the very persistent leak in the van. The amenities block seemed to be near new and was immaculately maintained. I dare say in the warmer months the place would be packed.

Across the Bay to St Helens

The town is neat and well supported by a good number of shops and services including two IGA supermarkets. There was an Art Exhibition on in town and I took time out to have a sticky beak at the very high quality of art on display. I was itching to paint after my visit there of course.







PRISCILLA QUEEN OF THE PADDOCK

A Common Sight

As the weather promised to be patchy for most of Tuesday we decided to take a drive inland to see both the Pub in the Paddock and the St Columbia Falls. What we had failed to understand was that if the weather was ordinary on the coast, inland it was dismal; we drove along winding roads thru’ very damp but lush farmlands. A photo I will post will give you an insight into what a great many of the Tassie farms look like – this little house sat wetly on the hillside, puffing out smoke and surrounded by an interesting array of detritus.

As we drove out of St Helens we saw signs advertising The Shop In The Bush – intrigued we stopped for a gander. What an amazing shop! It was a bric-a-brac shop – beautifully set out, displaying all manner of previously loved ‘stuff’ along with an impressive range of natural products. The shop also sported an incredible range of old books – several of which I purchased. I was bought up on good old fashioned children’s books, one of which was May Gibbs Snugglepot and Cuddlepie – sadly somewhere along life’s bumpy road I became separated from my beautiful old book and was thrilled to see a very close facsimile in this shop. Some $60 or so later we left the shop, DD looking somewhat bemused by my purchase. My replacement book cost $45 and the man in the shop told me I could have paid much more on the open market. I guess I could be a little gullible but I really am chuffed to have my book.

St Columbus Falls

The further into the steep ranges we travelled the worse the weather became. A light drizzle became a constant deluge and the visibility reduced to not much more that several metres. It was becoming apparent that a walk to the water-fall was not going to happen. We were back in rain-forest country again, unwittingly as we had not really expected that to happen in this area. We found the car-park for the falls and as the rain was still coming down we decided not to ‘do’ the walk. We were quite thrilled however, when we spotted the falls through the mists. The falls it seems are quite tall and a reasonably good view can be had from the road. Having obtained a rather misty and somewhat distant photo of the falls we felt somewhat mollified and turned back to explore the Pub in the Paddock.

Inside The Pub

Ever since we had arrived in Tassie, various folk had told us about the Pub in the Paddock. I must say we were a little confused as it is also referred to as the Pig in the Paddock and of course, DD in his own inimitable style was calling it the Pig in the Poke which is most likely how we will now remember it for all eternity. I have to say here, that I don’t mean to ‘cast nasturtiums’ over the pub at all – it is a wonderful little enterprise and very well run. The pub does indeed sit in the middle of a paddock and the star of the enterprise, Priscilla the Pig has her own warm sty right next to the erstwhile establishment. It seems that Priscilla enjoys a beer and on a good day, patrons are encouraged to buy her a beer which she obligingly quaffs to the delight of all, most of all I imagine, Priscilla herself (and the landlady who gets to pocket the do ray me). We decided against aiding and abetting Priscilla’s drinking problem after hearing how the camel up north died because of his drinking problem. Instead we explored the very well decorated establishment and enjoyed a light lunch beautifully prepared and presented by the pub cook. After lunch we wandered outside, braving the rain which was still falling, albeit in a very misty fashion, to view the Pig. Priscilla is no dope, determining no doubt that we didn’t have a treat for her, she stubbornly stayed inside her own warm dwelling and completely ignored us. Over the other side of the pub however were a couple of young horses. They were happy to chat with us and one of them became very excited when he spotted us and with his tail held high galloped over to see us with great enthusiasm. His excitement was soon dashed however when he realised we had nothing to offer.

He Was So Happy to See Us

DON’T BE SUCH A COW!

Leaving the Pig in the Poke we moved back towards St Helens, stopping first at Pyengana “Real Milk” – this enterprise is both a dairy and a cheese-making establishment. We had heard about this from a fellow camper and were keen to witness the automated milking system set up there – it was amazing. We watched as the sturdy black and white bovines plodded determinedly up to the gate, pushed their way in and then in a reasonably orderly manner walked onto the platform, patiently stood while the apparatus clamped itself onto their awaiting teats, calmly stepped off once emptied, stopped to have a back and head rub under the also automated cow-scratcher then finally moved on to have a munch at the specially provided post milking trough before wandering back out to the paddocks. The only disturbance to the whole very calm process seemed to be one particularly greedy cow who refused to budge from the feed bucket much to the aggravation of those behind her. It was amusing watching the second cow trying unsuccessfully to convince her to move on. I hadn’t realised that cows could be such cows!

I wanted to purchase some of the very excellent cheese they had on offer but in order to do this was compelled to have a ‘cheese tasting’ – DD had wandered off to the car and so feeling rather embarrassed I was left alone for my ‘lecture’. The chap was very thorough and insisted on giving me tastes of the cheese at all different stages of production. I have to say, as much as I love cheese, and I really do loooove cheese, it was a bit much, so close after lunch. I had to ask the man to make the samples much smaller – now that has to be a first. I was duly impressed however and came away with a fully matured and a soft flavoured cheese – they were very good and I did learn quite a bit about cheese making. It seems that what we buy in the supermarkets is ‘crap’, pardon the expression. What they were selling of course was the real McCoy – I dare say there was a certain amount of self-serving in the lecture, but I suspect a good amount of truth as well.

Enjoying a Back Scratch

GREAT BAYS OF FIRE

So, The Bay of Fires – well, it was hard to get the lad excited about going out to see the Bay of Fires, especially as the weather was not particularly wonderful, but we did go, not only once but twice. The first day we ventured out there we stopped and checked out all the little bays and free camping spots leading out to the main Bay of Fires area. Despite the weather the colours of the rocks that give the bay its name were quite bright and it was easy to see where the name came from. I have been unable to definitively find out how the rocks get their bright orange colouration but it is indicated that it is due to the iron ore content – I thought I had read previously it was due to a fungus but I can’t confirm this.

Famous Colours of The Bay of Fires

More Colours

We went out again at the end of the week when the weather improved dramatically and we had a delightful sun drenched day discovering all the colourful bays in the close vicinity. They ranged from rocky and colourful to sandy and picturesque. We found quite a few free campers in the little coves and bays along the way. We spoke at length to one of these characters – he informed us that he lives on the Western side of the island in the warmer months and then moves to the east side in the winter. He was quite a character and we couldn’t help but think that he has life by the proverbials. His overheads would be minimal and as a keen (and successful) fisherman he catches a great deal of his own tucker. He told us that when he leaves his van on the west side to visit the north island, the rangers keep a weather eye on his van for him. He doesn’t pay to stay on the East side – all in all he has it pretty well worked out!

Sandy Bays

Our Canny Fisherman

SKIMMING SCAMANDER

As we had perfect weather that day we left the Bay of Fires and travelled southwards to Scamander. We had passed thru’ with the van in tow and had promised ourselves to go back to have a better look. When we had a good look at the place we were almost sorry we hadn’t opted to stay there. It is delightful. The town is situated on the mouth of a river (sorry I can’t tell you what it is) and was to us at least, somewhat reminiscent of our beloved Kalbarri. The ocean pounded the shores and the accumulated rocks and wreckage that adorned the river mouth whilst just inside the mouth the river settled into a peaceful waterway providing a calm and protected sanctuary for various water birds including a good number of pelicans.

Entrance The Mouth of The River





Peaceful Waters Inside the Mouth

We decided to be good and not indulge in a take away lunch that day and instead decided to have an ice cream. DD left me to enjoy the scenery while he climbed the hill to buy us the ice-cream. Half an hour and many photos later, the lad returned – bearing not two ice-creams but a delicious serving of fresh fish and chips. It seems that when confronted by a price he couldn’t resist and fresh local fish and home- made chips, the lad just couldn’t find a good reason not to indulge. So indulge we did, sitting in the sun right on the mouth of the river – it was delightful. Replete we turned Zed back towards St Helens, passing on our way the local gunslinger and a couple of his rather dubious looking mates.

Local Character

Until next time live, love and be happy – Stephanie.

Tranquility Along the Way