PENITENTIAL PORT ARTHUR

Reflections of Sinister Times

Left to my own devices I probably wouldn’t have visited Port Arthur this time around. I did see it in another lifetime around 40 or so years ago and it left a memorable impression on my psyche then. As DD hadn’t been there however, it was on our list. As it turns out, I’m glad I went as although Port Arthur didn’t really do it for me this time, the trip down was lovely and as usual we saw some amazing country along the way.

Tasmania just keeps on giving – so much beauty – you never know what you will find around the next bend, mountains, pastures, orchards, rivers or ocean – it is all incredible. On the roughly 120k drive from New Norfolk to Port Arthur we passed through all of this. Firstly we drove over the Tasman Bridge, yet again, and then into the amazing jigsaw that is the South Eastern realm of Tassie. We are constantly stunned by the never ending amount of water-front property and land here. When you look closely at a map of Tasmania you will see that the shore line pushes fingers of land out here there and everywhere and in so doing creates enormous amounts of water views. We are flabbergasted by the low prices of water frontage properties – it would appear this is due largely to the fact that they are just so common down here, be it river, lake or sea that is visible.

Even the Cows have Water Views

DD was a little anxious (he gets that way sometimes) and really didn’t want to do to many detours along the way, but we did a few little side excursions nevertheless (I am annoyingly persistent) and we did manage to get a little lost at one stage, adding to DD’s deteriorating state of mind. The side trip did produce some amazing views however and we were only lost for a very short time, albeit on some very narrow, muddy, hilly, country where banjo music could be heard wafting from the often rickety porches of the back-country homes.

Lush Farming Land

We passed through some lush pastoral country and stopped off to check out the coastline here and there before reaching Dunalley. According to the news, they lost 200 homes in the Dunalley fires early this year. The area certainly gave evidence of major bush fires and we did see first-hand the tragedy of those fires in the blackened ruins of once loved homes. The wonder was, looking at the remains of those fires, that more homes were not lost. Many of these houses are set right in amongst the dense forest areas with very little in the way of fire-breaks. Coming from WA where they are so strict about fire-breaks, clearing trees from around the houses and the burning of heavy undergrowth, it all seems strange to us and so very risky. We have our fair share at home of homes in unsuitable situations, but here it is simply a way of life.


Dreadful Loss



Nature in Recovery Mode

The good news as we travelled through that fire ravaged region was that thanks largely to volunteers most of the fences have been repaired and replaced. The re-growth is substantial even after only 3 months. They have had it all down there, as they had floods after the fires, but the floods have hastened the speed of the re-generation of the bush. Trees are freshly decorated with garlands of fresh green leaves climbing smoke blackened trunks. Aren’t our gums amazing? Fresh green shoots of grass scramble moss-like across the sooty ground and life goes on. Best perhaps, to look at the regrowth and survival as a blessing than concentrate on the negatives of loss of life and property; I weep particularly for the loss of all the beautiful birds and marsupials in that wild country. It will take a very long time for that life to regenerate.

From Dunalley we moved on to Port Arthur passing the surprising Tasman Arch along the way. This ‘Arch’ is situated right next to a road and but for the signage you would drive straight past never guessing its existence. The arch is much like similar ocean structures along the Great Ocean Road.


Tasman Arch



Magnificent Bay - Magnificent Photo

Port Arthur certainly has changed since I was last there. Frankly, and I know many will not agree with me here, I don’t believe they have done the place any favours by making it so very ............................. normal. I cannot think of any other way to describe what they have done there. Once upon a time, you could just meander around the ruins, soaking up the atmosphere and finding your own personal revelations about the place. Now, you must enter through a state of the art centre where of course you can purchase a meal, (expensive) and any number of inane ‘tourist trinkets’. Once you have paid the toll you then have to await a ‘guide’ who takes you with a group of other victims on a so called tour of the place. The tour consists of the guide walking around 20 paces and pausing to shoot off their mouth about whatever building appears in your line of vision before moving on and repeating the process. This goes on for 40 odd (very odd) minutes. There were two of these redoubtable folk on duty the day we visited, and sadly we ended up with the dud. Those who know me well, will know that I rarely take any sort of unreasonable dislike to anyone, but this bloke managed to get under my skin in a big way. He had absolutely no sense of humour, why he didn’t even think DD was funny when he regaled him along the walk with a whole plethora of Dougisms! Something about this bloke didn’t sit right with me – probably a real nice bloke, but my reaction to him did put a bit of a blight on things for me.

Inside The Chapel

So Beautiful in its tragedy

Very few of the buildings are accessible these days – in particular the solitary confinement section of the old gaol. This is where I went last time and where I felt the most significant of the ‘vibe’ of the old place was. They have turned the asylum into a museum and neither of us felt it had been done in any meaningful way. There was no mention of the massacre, which I guess is probably correct – except that you kind of get the feeling that it is swept under the carpet for fear of it robbing the old prison of some of the limelight.

Stunning

Once you have endured the guides, you are then left to your own devices to wander around and explore. I suppose it is not a bad system and perhaps had we had a different guide our enjoyment levels would have been higher. There is now a cruise attached to the Port Arthur experience – yet another one of these huge Tasmanian catamarans takes you on a 20 min cruise around the deep bay visiting the Island of the Dead where most of their burials took place, and the Boy’s Prison island, Point Puer. It is optional to disembark at these points of interest and interestingly you have to pay an additional fee if you wish to visit the Boys Prison Island. We were there too late in the day to stop off at the islands and so contented ourselves with the cruise.

Isle of The Dead (strange effects thru' the cat windows)

On the up-side, it was all quite informative, the guides did impart quite a lot of information enabling a better understanding of the buildings and their purpose, but somewhere along the way, the atmosphere has been sterilised. Perhaps all the old and unhappy spirits whose presence used to permeate the atmosphere there have found absolution and peace and moved on.

What Was

It was just a very picturesque historical site. The Chapel ruins are still my favourite part of the visit and the beauty of the place was undeniable. We were fortunate too, to have selected a particularly sunny day – doubtless a cloudy and dim day would produce a whole different impression. An added bonus for us was spotting a very large and active octopus in the waters just next to where we boarded the cat. The octopus was in the company of a couple of rather large looking fish – just who was pursuing who was not clear, but it did seem that the game was on. The waters there were clear as crystal and we were able see the action very clearly.

Calming Views - Homeward Bound

Peaceful Pastures

Our drive home was just as beautiful as the drive out in the morning and we did cover a few slightly different points as the route actually loops at the end. The day was all in all a good one, and of course, if you haven’t been there before, it is a box you really need to tick when you visit Tasmania. Stay in the light and keep a positive perspective – Stephanie.

Just One of the Pretty Corners We Found That Day

HOSPITABLE HOBART

Japanese Reflections

During our cruise across Bass Straight in the Spirit of Tasmania, DD wandered into the Visitors Centre on board and they told him about this wonderful thing he could buy called an IVenture Card. The Card cost $130 per person and provided substantial discounts on a variety of cruises/tours/activities. There were a few choices and ‘we’ chose the most expensive card in the belief it gave the best value for money. We could not purchase the card on board, but had to wait until we hit land and then purchased our Iventure card from the Visitors Centre in Devonport. Some activities are even free with the card – one of the downsides tho’ is that we had only a limited time in which to utilise our card. In retrospect we wouldn’t purchase one of these cards again as there were a few problems with utilising them as even tho’ we purchased through the Visitors Centre, inevitably on each event, we could not book the cruise/trip/activity thru’ the Visitors Centres, but had to instead, go direct to the providers. There were a few other minor problems with the card, but we have managed to get our money’s worth over the duration. One of the results of purchasing the card, not sure if it is a good one or bad, is that we have found ourselves doing some things we perhaps would not have bothered with if we were not trying to get our maximum benefit. One of these activities was the Hobart Explorer. The tour was worth approximately $34 per head and involved a roughly 3 hour bus tour of Hobart and surrounds.

Opposite our Bus Stop in Hobart

Once again we jumped on a bus at New Norfolk and headed into Hobart in the morning. This time, as we had a little time up our sleeves, we sat at a corner cafe, enjoying a very passable coffee and watched Hobart go past – always a fascinating occupation trying to work out each person’s occupation or lack thereof. So........onwards and upwards, our old fashioned coach (once a tram) was it seemed, very unwell and so they had substituted a very comfortable air-conditioned coach – probably a good thing as it was just a tad chilly that morning.

We had a very, very quietly spoken guide – an Aussie bloke in pre-retirement mode with the usual dry sense of humour that so many Australian men do so well. Shame we couldn’t hear him very well due to his mumbling – obviously practising for driving his wife mad in retirement! The tour took us through old Hobart, our guide pointing out all the points of interest. Certainly Hobart boasts some wonderful historical buildings, some beautiful and some not. First stop for the day was the old Barracks where we jumped (read stumbled) out to stretch our legs and take a few photos of the memorials and old buildings. This was perhaps our first experience of the next stage of our lives when we no longer take our own tours but join a group of age enhanced, muscle depleted older folk on ‘Coach Tours’. I know my mum enjoyed these ‘Tours’, but not sure if I am ready yet. One really old fellow (oh, about 5 years older than us!), seemingly had a compulsion to read everything – his wife sardonically indicated this would mean that every time the bus was ready to go, old Alf would be ‘over there’ reading some script on some notice about something. To make matters worse, he was more than a little deaf and his wife who had her arm in a sling (probably broke it while choking him) was not inclined to get off the bus at all, but simply sat there glaring in his general direction instructing the driver very curtly, to “just blow the horn – he is reading again – just blow it!”

War Memorial - 1 day after ANZAC Day

So once we had Alf back safely on board, off we set for the Cascade Brewery Gardens – quite lovely with all the autumn colours – the old building sitting very grandly at the rear of the gardens. Another ‘leg-stretch’ and this time it was Alf’s missus who kept us waiting as she decided finally get off the bus to visit the amenities, once everyone else was on board. You know I really don’t mind all the waiting, after all we had nowhere else to be, it was just interesting to see how these two were so oblivious to how their behaviour affected the rest of us – not purely a proclivity of the young after all it seems.

Cascade Gardens

Cascade Brewery

Next stop was the old Women’s Gaol – this time it was me who didn’t get off the bus. The ruins of the gaol were very diminished – really only the walls left and they had been pretty well re-constructed. Instead, I stayed on the bus with the driver who regaled me with gruesome stories of the lives of the past inmates. I find that these places do affect me quite profoundly and I don’t always wish to go there. The lives these poor souls lived were abysmal to say the least. The driver did point out however, that a good number of the inmates (those who survived that is) ended up marrying quite well as there was such a dearth of women in the remote colony.

DD Thought It Was Worth Another Look!

Alf’s wife was last back on again as she had discovered a source of Bruny Island Fudge and had gone back to buy some. Oh well, at least she seemed a little happier by then. From the gaol we headed slightly out of Hobart and across the Tasman Bridge to a high vantage point across the Derwent. We were of course, told the story of the Tasman Bridge – most of us do remember the collapse of the bridge of course, but it was still interesting and horrific – especially hearing the story as you are passing over the same place where the bridge collapsed. What we hadn’t heard before tho’, was that the very lucky bloke whose Monaro had been perched oh so precariously on the brink of disaster that day, was the first person to drive across the new bridge, and he drove across in the same Monaro which he still has today! The other thing we learned was that they now stop the traffic when a ship is passing underneath. We have since experienced this in our own travels around Hobart.

Tasman Bridge

So, we stopped at the top of a hill which I’m very much afraid I have forgotten the name of, probably ‘cause I never really heard the name due to the combination of the mumbling of our driver and Alf’s wife, sitting in front of us, continually turning around to regale DD with stories of their caravan trip around Tassie some 30 years ago. JOY!!! From the ‘hill’ we could see a fair way up the Derwent and right out to sea and Bruny Island. The views were remarkable and would have been even better had it not been raining by that time.

From the Lookout Rosney Park

Hobart Bathed in Sunlight - Mt Wellington in the Background

Our drive then took us back across the bridge and to our last stop, The Royal Botanical Gardens. Here we were dropped off at one end and picked up 30 minutes later at the other end. We had a truly lovely wander through part of the gardens which are huge. The gardens seemed more like a park of yore where one would have promenaded to be seen rather than an abundant garden. As we only saw a portion of the gardens, I could be wrong of course. What was really beautiful were the Japanese Gardens there – at any other time of the year they would not have been the same; the colours of the autumn leaves were outstanding reflecting their glory in the still waters.


Beautiful Japanese Gardens


Were there any problems when we all assembled to re-board the bus, hmmmm, “Has anybody seen my wife?” asked Alf, perhaps hoping that nobody had, but “Yes” we had seen her, walking determinedly off to see the Japanese Gardens when the rest of us were about to board the bus. Oh well............doubtless she had a wonderful day.

Floral Beauty

More Bloomin' Flowers

So back on board and back to our starting point – we would have so say we enjoyed our bus trip – it was informative and we did learn a couple of things we most likely would have missed left to our own devices. It was also amusing in its own way with Alf and his wife, who true to form, held everyone else up disembarking from the bus as they had the front seat and Alf, seemingly in a bit of a world of his own, took forever to remove Mrs Alf’s stuff from the shelf above their heads – oblivious to the fact that nobody could get off the bus until he moved out of their way. He was actually a lovely man, just a bit vague – having met Mrs Alf, one can only surmise his state to be one of self-preservation. So, until next time when we will go to Port Arthur, be tolerant and adapt, adapt, adapt. Stephanie.

To Calm Your Mind

PS these photos give you a good insight into Hobart weather - all taken within 3 hours and approx 10ks.

MASTERFUL MONA

Museum of Old and New Art

Isn’t it interesting how some things really polarise people. One of those polarising things appears to be MONA. Before we actually managed to get there we had an enormous amount of advice about the place from an abundance of very differing individuals. Interestingly, the most popular advice was ‘not to bother’ – ‘not worth it’ and ‘gross’. One man actually told us that he found the art there not to be art al all but mere pornography! Many more people told us that whilst the art was not worth seeing, the building was worthy of a visit. Well, we have long believed in seeing for ourselves, so off we went to MONA.

Wooden Tepees at the Rear of MONA

We could have gone to Hobart and caught yet another catamaran back up the Derwent to MONA, but seeing as it is situated roughly half way between New Norfolk and the city we decided instead to simply drive there. MONA is an interesting array of buildings perched on a promontory of land on a broad stretch of the Derwent River. It is surrounded on the land-side by vineyards, golden at this time of the year, and on its remaining 3 sides by the river. The buildings appear to consist of accommodation, conference facilities, a theatre and of course the Art Gallery itself. The grounds contain a number of quirky pieces, including wooden tepees, a wrought iron concrete truck and of all things, a tennis court. The buildings are built from unusual materials including what appears rusty iron plate, sat at odd angles, uncomfortable to the eye. The entry to the gallery itself is mirrored and once again challenges the eyes and optical perceptions.

Unusual Building Materials Set at Odd Angles

Once inside you disappear into a labyrinth of limestone passages, tunnels and caves, all seemingly dug out of the land, creating a living theatre for the art. The gallery is essentially set out on three levels give or take a few odd angles and ramps, but unlike the usual building the 3 levels do not rise up into the air, but instead are sunk deep into the earth.

Mirrored Entrance to the Gallery Tricks The Eyes

The walls are largely exposed limestone rock – impressive and quite awesome in appearance. The art is ....................different. Very different! I must confess that in general it was not my cup of tea, but it was interesting to say the least. Much of it was confronting dealing with subjects generally left out of conventional art galleries – sex, death, and other diseases would be the best way to describe it perhaps. I didn’t ‘love it’ but I did find it interesting and some of it very quirky. The gallery utilises every surface and space as grist for the mill and odd things popped up around us as we wandered, fascinated, through those dark passages. Technology was not left out of the art on display and an amazing waterfall which dropped gem like water drops in the form of words was quite amazing and mesmerizing. I was quite surprised that DD also enjoyed his MONA experience. It is good to see a venue where the more alternative artist can confidently display their work.

Golden Vineyards Stretching Away Towards The Ever Present Hills

The place attracts a wide variety of people and there were a fair number of what could be loosely described as ‘pretentious arty- farty types’ wandering around looking superior and pontificating loudly. The people were part of the experience. All in all we really enjoyed our visit, and would suggest you go and find out for yourself what all the hue and cry is about.

Until our next encounter, be open and fair minded. Stephanie.

BOUNTIFUL BRUNY ISLAND

Mysterious Tunnels To The Other Side

We had planned on taking the van across on the ferry to Bruny Island but somewhere along the way we changed our minds and decided to take the Adventure Tour to Bruny and then at a slightly later date, take the Cruiser across on the ferry and simply do a ‘drive around’. We have yet to do the drive around, but we have done the Bruny Island Adventure Tour. Despite the fairly high cost of around $190 per head we thoroughly enjoyed our day and would happily recommend it to anyone visiting Tasmania.

Leaving the Hobart Wharf Early in the Morn

We caught the bus to Hobart early in the morning. Very early in fact, we boarded the bus at 6.50am on a cold and frosty New Norfolk morning. These buses have been an absolute revelation. The drivers are wonderfully old fashioned, polite, helpful and full of good advice. Something sadly you just don’t see enough of at home anymore. One of these days I will do a blog, just about Tassie and Tasmanians in general, in brief and just for now though, suffice to say ‘old fashioned values’ still apply down here and people are generally very friendly. So..............we caught the bus, and then listened delightedly as everyone on the bus proceeded to talk to everyone else, including us. Very country! Very pleasant! Due to the fact that the trip in to Hobart is a fairly long one, the commuter buses are more like coaches and quite comfy. We arrived in a still sleepy Hobart just before 8 and took ourselves down to the waterfront to sign in for our cruise.

Giant Kelp Forrests alongside Dark Tunnels and Underwater Caves

The first thing they did was hand us a fairly scary piece of paper where we pretty much had to sign our lives away. Frankly, we thought they should do this when they sell you the ticket, not just before you board the boat. Basically the papers declared that we had no major medical defects and that we would not hold them responsible if we died or became mortally injured during the day’s adventures. Great!!! Nothing like signing that sort of thing just before boarding a boat – doesn’t exactly imbue you with confidence. Of course, all these companies are doing this these days in order to try to avoid any litigation in the event of misadventure. Personally, I rather doubt these papers would hold water in a court of law. Perhaps their true purpose is to act as deterrents to some potential and or ‘professional’ litigants.

The second thing they did was to hand out a great big raincoat to everyone. Not just any raincoat, but these were more like big rainproof wet- weather great-coats. Most had seen better days, but they were warm and pretty weather proof. This was a fair indication that they expected us to get wet before the day was out.


Magnificent and Ancient Rocky Cliffs


The first stage of our adventure was a sedate 45 minute cruise on the Derwent Estuary and D’Entrecasteau to Bruny Island in one of Tasmania’s wonderful big catamarans. We have since been told that these cats are built on the Derwent just north of Hobart and sell for around $1m per metre. We have seen them before at Strahan and sitting at the dock in Hobart ready for cruising up the Derwent to MONA. It would appear that their main market is Tasmania’s own tourist industry! The cruise to Bruny was pleasant albeit a little too cold and windy to get outdoors to take photos. DD, being the intrepid bloke that he is, did go out to the stern and take a couple of shots of Hobart Harbour disappearing in our wake, but even he didn’t brave the cold conditions for long. I made the mistake of heading out to the bow to take a shot or two from there, but was very quickly blown back inside the well appointed dry and warm interior of the cat.

Crossing the Narrow Spit

We arrived promptly at Bruny and were bundled onto a couple of small coaches for a brief bus tour of part of the island. We drove through fairly dry farm land, over the narrow spit that joins the north to the south of the island and into heavily forested hilly country. The north island has minimal annual rain fall, while the south part of the island has one of the wettest climates in Tasmania – odd, considering their very close proximity to each other! Just by the by Bruny is close on 100 kilometres long – making it a substantial island indeed. One the way we stopped and picked up some fresh oysters to go with our lunch, and again to pick up some local cheeses to add to our repast. Eventually we pulled up alongside a small jetty where a very natty vessel awaited us. It is described in the literature as a ‘state of the art coastal expedition vessel’. We were told by the doting skipper about the horsepower of the engines and all the sort of stuff that you blokes would find interesting. Oh hang on, DD is telling me it had no less than 4 V8 outboards. Suffice to say, it had big engines and was, due to its design, able to get in very close to the rocky and dangerous shore-line. The rear of the vessel was under cover whilst the front half was open to the elements. This was the ‘adventure’ part of the deal.


Close in to the Rocks


The ‘adventure’ boat was a reasonable size and accommodated us all quite well. We were technically supposed to strap ourselves in, but this didn’t seem to last for very long as we constantly stopped to take photos of the amazing coastline. We were fairly blessed as although we did have some rain (which arrived like small ice bullets), the swell that day was only around one and a half metres. This meant a reasonably smooth ride, or so we were told. I guess all these things are relative, and I suppose, relative to say a 6 metre swell, the ride was smooth. For those of us unused to such experiences tho’, smooth was perhaps a slightly off-beat way to describe the journey. It was a lot of fun tho’ and not so rough as to be scary or to make folk sea-sick. It was just very hard to stand and take a decent photo without lurching into the back or lap of some unsuspecting passenger. We did lose quite a few hats and caps with the strong winds that blew up while we were at sea. The weather whilst not bad, was considerably worse than they had forecast.

Sensational Formations

We spent around 2 and a half hours out in the adventure boat and in that time saw some stunning rocky coastal formations and cliffs. Ancient rock formations formed formidable cliffs and sheer rock walls along the primitive coastline. Many times we were presented with rocky arches through which we could see the restive ocean on the other side. At one place we stopped to see the ocean ‘breathing’ – this is a spectacular phenomenon where underwater caves capture the surging waves and spew out vast quantities of froth and foam high into the salty air. Many sea-birds graced the skies around us, including spectacular albatross. We also were up close and personal with a colony of beautiful fur seals and some rare flying penguins. We had quite good commentary for both cruises and the young fella conducting the commentary vowed that they were flying penguins so who am I to dispute his obviously greater knowledge. Hmmmm.

Colony of 'Flying Penguins'

Finally we were taken back to the jetty to disembark, cold but happy after our adventure. From there, back in the coaches to our luncheon destination, where we had a very acceptable lunch of cold frittata, damper, salad and samples of fresh Bruny oysters, local cheeses and local fudge. Not too shabby at all; from there, back on the coaches, back to the cat and a pleasant and warmer cruise back into Hobart.

About as Far South as Australia Goes

If we had any criticism at all of the day it was one we would make of many of these cruises/tours. Once they have you on the homeward track, they tend to forget about you. The young fellow who was doing the commentary became engrossed in conversation with his mate and didn’t even bid his passengers good-bye or thank us for our attendance – this in turn made it difficult for us to thank him as he was not available. It just felt unfinished and a little un-professional. I have to say that when you are spending pretty much $400 for the day, you do expect a reasonably high level of service – they let themselves down at the end. Even on the adventure boat, our guide was more interested in talking to the skipper than to his guests. The lunch also could have been done better as we guests were pretty much left to our own devices and the service etc was basic. The trip was good and was worth doing, but lacked a bit of polish – certainly just re-reading the brochure just now, I was amused at the difference between the amazing events and food described therein compared with the very enjoyable but not quite so glamorous day we experienced.

Mates Just Lazing Around

When we disembarked at around 3.40 we were able to stroll up to our bus stop in good time for the bus home. It was a longish day and due to the nature of the adventure boat we were not able to get our usual quality of photos, but it was good nevertheless. We are looking forward to our ‘drive around’ Bruny in Zed when we will definitely reacquaint ourselves with those delectable Bruny oysters. We have been told we can pick them up for around $8 per dozen and trust me, they are worth it. Until our next adventure stay centred and enjoy clear sailing! Stephanie.


Back Across the Spit



Heading Home

PS  Sorry about the quality of the pics this time - hard to get a clear shot without a random boat or body part getting involved.

NOSTALGIC NEW NORFOLK (3)

Peaceful River at Snug

The Purple Peril

Well, I think I have just proven to myself that one cannot efficiently type when wearing mittens. Yep, we are now up at the Eagles Nest and it is very crisp indeed. Before I regale you with all the latest adventures however, I have some catching up to do. We have been quite busy of late, taking tours and exploring Hobart and surrounds. I will fill you in progressively on all those things, but first, let me tell you about the day we went to The Mountain.

When we last stayed with our mad friend Lee, she decided we needed to be acquainted with the close surrounds and with this in mind she piled us all unwitting into her somewhat dubious looking Rav 4 – initially DD in the front passenger seat, moi in the back passenger seat, and Daisy Bates the beautiful gentle old Border Collie in the rear compartment – and off we went. Well, after travelling for so long in Zed, our lovely Silver Cruiser, the first thing I noticed was that my very ample bottom seemed to be oh, say 6 inches off the ground! The second thing I noticed was that The Purple Peril (Rav 4) was not in particularly good nick, and seemed to have more rattles and bangs than a bunch of babies in a tin nursery. A couple of other things very quickly became apparent, poor old Daisy was sharing her rear compartment with an abundance of bottles and other stuff which was destined for the tip – Daisy and the assorted detritus all bumped and surfed along the way in a way that was both musical (the bottles clinking and Daisy whining) and alarming. The most alarming point of interest however, was the cavalier way our driver, Lee, was treating the narrow, steep and gravel roads which she cheerfully announced led the back way to Mount Wellington. Oh joy, we were travelling headlong to catastrophe! I’m sure in retrospect that it wasn’t half as bad as it seemed at the time, but back then it seemed that Lee was practising for a very competitive Hill Climb Event and was trying for her best time yet. She certainly seemed to attack those gravel roads, hairpin bends, tight corners, steep inclines, skinny roads skimming alongside sheer drops with vigour and imagination. We slid and bounced our way along the adventurous tracks. It seemed too that Lee was at war with every other driver on that track and if we were to believe our ears, all the other road users that day were either of illegitimate birth or foreign masturbators or occasionally both. Well, it seems, despite our concerns and the dubious quality of our fellow road users, we did arrive at the top of the mountain intact. I have to say my opinion did at least briefly concur with Lees’ when one of our fellow road users popped out of her car (this was the driver) wearing a pink tutu and a silver tinsel wig. This would have been perhaps not quite so unnerving had it not been for the fact that this appeared to be normal for this diminutive person, who I initially took to be a child.


Extensive Views  from Mt Wellington Across Hobart Waters



Through The Smoke Haze


We were fortunate to have a relatively clear day, and were able to enjoy the amazing views from the peak of the mountain. There was no snow that day but there was still quite a bit of residual smoke from all the bush fires. It was predictably cold – we had been warned by many that one needs copious layers of clothing when visiting the mountain – the little breeze up there was totally lazy and cut right through clothing, skin, fat layers and bit right into the bone.


Looking Down on The Tasman Bridge


When it was time to get back into The Purple Peril, I lost all interest in being polite and jumped into the front seat with Lee – leaving The Bloke to experience the joys of the back seat. I think from subsequent discussions, he ‘enjoyed’ the experience just about as much as me. From Mt Wellington, we were taken on a tour that first touched on the tip – many things in Tassie are not what we are used to, and because Lee lives slightly off the beaten track road, she does not have any rubbish pick up – not only do they not collect her rubbish, but they charge her $9 per bag to deposit it at the tip and then have the effrontery to charge her almost $100 per annum for the privilege. It seems that they pay a huge amount down here for their electricity too – amazing considering the amount of hydro-power produced here. Perhaps it is not Shangrila after all.

Snug Beach

Of course, like most blokes, DD loved the tip and could see all the wonderful stuff an enterprising bloke could make use of. From there Lee took us for a little tour which took in firstly the pretty little town of Snug and then Kettering where the ferry leaves for Bruny Island. The entire area was picturesque and we stopped for a very good coffee at the ferry terminal come information centre at Kettering where we watched the ferry load up with cars, trucks and caravans for its brief journey across to Bruny.

The Bruny Island Ferry

A pleasant day was had by all, including Daisy who availed herself of the opportunity for a swim when we hopped out at Snug to stretch our legs, and despite being scared out of our collective wits we were grateful to Lee for taking us out and showing us the sights.

Until next time, love a lot and live a little. Stephanie.