KINGSTON CRITTERS

Hello, I’m Daisy Bates. I am a 12 year old black and white Border Collie and I’m beautiful – I am a really good girl, well............I’m usually a really good girl, it’s just that I hate that awful cat and even tho’ I try really hard, sometimes, I just can’t seem to help myself and I just have to have a taste! I try not to..., ah, well that is I try not to bite him when anyone is looking that is.

We, the awful cat and I, have been really missing our mum, Lee – she has gone away – I went in the big silver car with mum and her human friends, Doug and Steph and when we arrived at a big black space with lots of buildings and cars, mum climbed down out of the big silver car and I haven’t seen her since. It has been ages since she left and I have been so sad without her.

Oh, Doug and Steph have been looking after us OK, but it’s just not the same. They don’t seem to understand what I want when I bark at the TV – I just love the TV – I watch it every night and go absolutely ballistic when the DODO advertisements come on. Last night, S&D watched something about crocodiles and I just was so excited I nearly bit the TV – truly! I just jumped up and down yipping at those big crocs, I would love to get my teeth into one of them.

One day, when D&S could see that I was particularly sad and missing my mum, they put my favourite movie on the TV – BABE!!!!!!!!!!!................oh, wow.........that pig really gets me, but really, it’s that big hunk Max that really has me panting – don’t tell anyone tho’.

Thinking of Mum

D&S have tried really hard, they have taken me in the big silver car for some rides, and they talk to me lots and feed me really well. I am not allowed to sleep on their bed tho, and that rotten cat can – I am really peed off about it too, I can tell you. Steph usually lets me jump up on the bed for a little while in the morning so she can pet me and give me cuddles – the cat hates that and scrunches himself up into one corner of the bed and glares at me – one glorious morning just after mum had gone away, I was on the bed and the cat was doing his glare number on me, and before Steph knew what was happening, I lunged across the bed and bit him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Oh, glory, it was wonderful – trouble is, Steph was really cross with me (I didn’t know she liked the cat that much) and growled at me. If there is one thing I hate more than that cat, it is being in trouble – it took me days to get over it – even tho’ Steph was nice to me right away afterwards and gave me loads of pats and everything. After all is said and done, I am a good girl and thrive on praise.

I am really sorry I bit the cat!

After a couple of days, I was right as rain again but then I blotted my copybook again. You see, I have this little thing I do. Every evening when I see Steph preparing our meals, I rush into the bedroom and bite the cat – just to let him know that tea is ready you understand. I have to bite him ‘cause he is usually sound asleep and barking loudly in the house is frowned on – how else am I supposed to wake him? He doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, I think he would be upset if I missed waking him up and he missed out on his food.

Yesterday I had a big win – the cat was on the bed as usual and I was up there for my early morning cuddle – now I knew I wasn’t allowed to bite the bugger (‘scuse me) and Steph seemed to know what was on my mind cause she kept reminding me that I wasn’t allowed to “bite the cat”. Sod it! Then I had an epiphany (at least that’s what Steph called it) – the cat was at the end of the bed, I had to get off the bed somehow, why not walk all over the cat? Brilliant! What made it so very wonderful was that the bed is one of those old fashioned types with a timber frame – the cat was right at the end of the mattress and as I put my considerable weight down on his middle bits, he all but disappeared down the crack. You should have seen the look of panic on his face – it was priceless – it would even have been worth being growled at a little. Would you believe it tho’, when I glanced back to see if I was in trouble, Steph was laughing so hard she nearly fell out of the bed. Perhaps she doesn’t love that cat so much after all.

Me on the Bed, Cat on theFloor - Excellent!

I hope mum comes home soon – I am always allowed to sleep on her bed, even tho’ I have to climb a whole lot of stairs to get to her bedroom and my old bones don’t enjoy the climb much anymore. Of course, the cat gets to sleep with her too, but a girl has to put up with some strange bed-mates at times if she wants her comforts.

Nice to have had this chat with you – Daisy (or as Steph calls me, Crazy Daisy Bates).



Nice to Meet You - bye for now.


********************************************************************************

********************************************************************************

Has that dog gone yet? Great, Hi’ya, I’m Bugsy Malone, a superb and magnificent Maine Coon cat – don’t know if you have heard about my type of cat, but we come from the United States of America – heard someone say that we are the best thing to come out of the States yet! I’m only two years old and until around 4 months ago I was a ‘kennel cat’. I have only been living with Lee for a short time and until I came to live here, I had never been outdoors. I am told that although I am quite large for a house cat, I won’t reach my full size until I am around 5 years old – by then I will be much larger than the average moggie and will have a magnificent and long ‘ruff’ to match the rest of my long and shaggy coat.

So, Lee has gone and left Daisy and me with these strangers, Steph & Doug – well that’s OK, they treat me pretty well – oh, OK they spoil me rotten and what’s wrong with that?

Yes, I am allowed to sleep on their bed and that noisy dog is not – that’s exactly how it should be – I am going to tell Lee when she gets back from wherever she has gone – that dog belongs on the floor! Last night, just to really pee the dog off, I jumped off the bed for just a little while and moved into her bed on the floor while she slept on the cold timber. A cat has to do these things every so often just to show who is really boss. Of course, after her little trick this morning, she will have to put up with a few more of my lessons before she is off the hook.

She really does make my heart pump – I have to be on the watch out for her all the time – I just never know when she is going to rush up sink those big white teeth into me. As for this morning, well, I thought my last days had come. There I was, staying out of her stupid way, shouldn’t have been on the bed in the first place, when suddenly she gave me a really crafty look. I thought I was pretty right, cause I had heard Steph tell her she wasn’t allowed to bite me – cool! So what was in that empty head? Far out!!! She just plain ole’ walked all over me – she is no light-weight either. Her back foot sunk right into my flank and pushed me right down into the very small space between the mattress and the end of the bed – not only did it really hurt, but it frightened the shi – sorry, the heck out of me! She had the audacity to try and pretend she didn’t do it on purpose too. What really hurt tho’ was that Steph, who I was sure adored me, laughed like mad – bloody woman. Showed her this morning, had a big swipe at her hand and made a very satisfactory scratch on her, just to remind her that I am a cat and of course, not to be laughed at under any circumstances.

Bed Games are the Best!

Steph is cool, she makes me these really great toys and then every morning she plays with me for at least a half hour – on the bed of course. The dog hates it! I just love it. I’m sorry that I have accidentally hurt Steph a few times, I get so carried away chasing the bird/toy that I forget to pull up and pull in – sometimes I get her instead of the toy. She seems to handle it OK – she’s pretty cool. She understands about cats – reckons she has had a few in her life but now loves the birds too much to have another cat – go figure!? She seems pretty besotted with me at the moment tho. I chase these toys of hers and love to rush across the bed tumbling off one side to leap back ferociously and scramble across and fall off the other side before leaping back and doing aerial acrobatics catching the toy. I have an amazing workout which Steph says is the idea, as I am too tired to chase the wrens and pademelons for a little while afterwards and am pretty content just to eat and sleep for most of the day. The only problem I have with Steph is that she will not play my games in the middle of the night. It’s just so frustrating, I have tried just about everything to get her interested – like sitting pretty much on her head, pulling her hair and poking! Poking is the best fun – I just find a spot where I can get my very large paws under the blankets and start poking – it works best when I find a bit of exposed skin and keep just the tip of a claw out – to make sure she wakes up. For some reason, it doesn’t seem to work very well – in fact, she seems to get a tad upset – no figuring some people.

I am not allowed out at night and have to be indoors by 4pm every afternoon. That is so I cannot chase the pademelons. Every so often one of the silly things is still wandering around during the day – I just love stalking them – hope to hell I never catch one tho’ – absolutely no idea what I would do with it!

Silly Pademelon

I mean seriously, what would I do with it?

Did I tell you I had a really bad accident just before Lee left? No? Oh, it was shocking. Lee has a great big fire thing in the lounge room – I am a bit nervous around it as I had never seen a fire until just a little while ago. This night, I was walking around the rock wall behind the fire thing and I could feel that there was a lot of warm air coming from the fire. What, I thought, to myself, must it feel like to sit on top of that thing – surely it would be really warm and comfortable on a cold night. Well, I wondered and as I wondered I kept walking around the top of the wall, and then suddenly, before anyone realised what I was doing, I jumped down from the wall, onto the top of the fire thing!!

OOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!! Have you ever seen a cat break the speed barrier? Well those people watching me that night have – I reckon my front paws hit that stove top for about one zillionth of a second – my back feet didn’t touch it at all – not sure how I managed that! When I hit the floor, I just kept on running and skidding on all the mats for a few minutes – I was in soooo much pain. I had burnt the pretty pink pads on my front paws – not too badly mind you, I was so quick, but bad enough to give me some grief for a few days. Steph was really kind and looked after me very well – basically tho’, being a cat I pretty much looked after myself. Steph wouldn’t let me out for a few days afterwards and now I am all good again and my pads are back to being their pink selves. Do you know, I don’t go anywhere near that fire thing anymore – I have a nice thick coat and I can cope without the fire thank you very much.

Hate The Fire, but Hate That Dog More

I guess I am looking forward to mum coming home, but I’m pretty happy with these people too – they have this great big white tin box that they climb into – I just love it, there is a bed in there too and you can lay on the bed and look out the windows and watch the birds – it’s brilliant. I have heard Steph say that they will have to shut me indoors when they leave just so I don’t stow away and go with them on their travels.

Well, it’s bin nice talking to you folks, but I can see that my tea is going to be ready soon and I have to reach a high place before that pesky dog comes along to give me my nightly reminder – why does she have to do that? Bloody annoying I can tell you. Bugsy Malone (alias Thugsy)

See ya' round

HAPPY, COLD, TRAMPING AND HOVERING



Happy Anniversary Darling!


HAPPY ANNIVERSARY


Just before I get into this new lot of blogs, a quick one to say that we celebrated our first anniversary on the 1st May – like the wedding it was a very low key celebration as we tend to remember the 21st Oct (the day we reconnected ) as our main annual ‘togetherness’ celebration. We were still at New Norfolk and decided to go up to Salmon Ponds for lunch. We discovered that to just go through the gates they wanted $8 and then they wanted you to purchase bags of fish food for another $2 each. If you wanted to eat there, they were happy to serve you pancakes. The woman we spoke to, on the front desk, was I’m sorry to say, one of those rare Tasmanians who had zero personality. She was unfriendly and curt. Needless to say, we did not stay for lunch. The place was quite pretty and presented some lovely photo opportunities; one of which caught the lad out in a very peculiar light indeed. What do you think?

We took a quick stroll around the ponds and then drove back into New Norfolk and had a pleasant and well priced lunch at the local pub. As I said, it was not glamorous but it was fine. A very pleasant experience made perfect by the perfect husband. Steph.

Stunning Archway

COLD AT COCKLE CREEK

Almost the Edge of the World

Well, it’s happened – yesterday DD informed me that he thinks he is “all Tasmania’d out”! Mind you the poor lad had a flu jab the day before and was feeling just a tad offish – you know these men! Perhaps we are not fed up with the place yet, but we are probably starting to become just ever so slightly accustomed to the incredible beauty here and some of the ‘wow’ factor is wearing off.

Personally, I am still loving the place even tho’ I have discovered that I am not quite so in love with cold weather as I had thought. There is cold and there is cold – Heaven knows what it will be like in the actual winter time. I think this is at the back of DD’s mind too. People have been telling us, and it is confirmed on the Weather each night, that Launceston is colder than Hobart and there has been talk of black ice on the roads. I think our lad is quite rightly concerned about towing the van in those sorts of conditions. Of course, when it comes down to it, if there is black ice due to extreme cold, then we will be staying put until it is safe.

We are right in the middle of our house sitting stint and very much enjoying being here in a real house with a real fire and with real pets – all quite surreal for us after 3 ½ years living in the caravan. Neither of us feels that we are ready to do this full time yet however, and will be pleased at the end of the day to hit the road once again.

Lonely Beach At Cockle Creek

Not Snow, it just Felt Like It.

While here in Kingston we are well situated to explore the Huon Valley and surrounds. We have been as far south and west as roads in Tassie allow and have visited the end of the earth – a tiny little hamlet called Cockle Creek, population 3! This is as far south as you can travel in Australia by road. The day we elected to go for this 100k plus drive was not the best weather-wise but the scenery along the way was nonetheless still stunning. Due to the poor weather we didn’t stop along the way to do a great deal of exploring – we had thought to take the little train trip along the way at Ida Bay but it was not operating that day. We are going to strike this more and more it seems as tourism operators in Tasmania often determine that their season is over at the end of April and either close their doors or dramatically reduce services until later in the year. Perhaps it is time to head north.

We drove south through Dover, Strathblane, Southport and Lune River. Most of these places were minuscule but picturesque. Dover was a slightly larger settlement and just picture postcard perfect. Despite the beauty there is not a great deal of reason to go all the way down to Cockle Creek except to say that you have done the trip. We are glad we went.

Reflections on the Huon

TRAMPING AT TAHUNE

Mysterious

One of the ‘must do’ things we wanted to do whilst at Kingston, was the Tahune Air Walk – this is, for the West Aussies, much like the Valley of the Giants out of Denmark, except on a much larger scale. A massive steel structure spans immense areas allowing you to walk amongst the tree tops. The area is essentially the eastern most point of the western wilderness and the forest is temperate rain forest. The most prominent trees there are the enormous Stringy Barks which reach up into the rarefied air trying to touch the very Heavens. The day we were there, despite a good forecast, the weather proved dank, damp and misty –not uncommon at this time of the year it seems. The mist, we now know, often does not clear there until around midday. Due to the eerie vapours wafting and drifting around us, it appeared that the trees succeeded that day, in actually touching those moisture laden skies.

The drive there was quite something, back into rain forest again, steep winding roads and visibility almost zero thanks to the heavy mists clinging to the deep valleys. The whole effect was quite surreal and not a little scary, particularly when we came grill to grill with a large timber truck travelling very fast, the opposite way, in the middle of the narrow road! We barely had time to scuttle across to the gravel to allow him passage. I did wish I had managed to get a photo of him so that I could report his very dangerous driving, but it was all over before I had time to think. I do tend to become incensed with stupid and irresponsible drivers like this who not only endanger their own lives, but take it upon themselves to risk the lives of strangers as well. Oh well.

How Many More Steps

When we arrived we had a chat to the super friendly lass behind the counter and she advised there were two avenues open to us – we could either drive the car up to the entrance to the air-walk (a good option for a fat old woman with a crook knee) or we could take the 120 or so steps up to the entrance. Now, I’m sure you all understand stupid pride – I couldn’t suggest the car ride as that would be wimpy – I rely on my knight in tarnished armour to recommend that sort of gentle option for his faded rose, BUT NO!!!!!!!!!! “Oh, I think we should walk it” he says grandly. Oh great, now I have no option but to agree, or look a wimp. So off we trudged. 120 steps, at least............. By the time I had hit say no 10 I knew it was going to hurt really badly. By no 20, I wanted to hurt him really badly. By no 50 I was worrying about whether or not my will was in order – by the time we reached the summit I had it sussed. The rotter wants me dead................I was on to his dastardly plan – trouble is I thought he was going to succeed. In the end, I am of course, very pleased that we walked, the bush was exceptional and we saw so much that we would otherwise have missed. It was my plan, after all to do these walks while we are here, but what I hadn’t planned was to put on even more fat layers and become even less fit. Oh reality really hurts when you come face to face with it. There was no hiding from the facts on that climb.

Touching The Skies

Anyway, I digress – once on the actual walk we strolled along (if one can stroll on a steel and wire structure high above the trees – one that shudders and shakes with every step taken) through the canopy. The walk is quite a long one and on a sunny day I believe the views are exceptional – we do have photos of their photos! We were not sorry about the mist however as it created a special ambiance of mystery and dark beauty. The effects would have fitted very well into any Harry Potter story.

A Precarious Pathway

After the air walk we took the Huon Pine walk (I was not going to give in) and that was particularly pretty and informative. We had of course already heard a great deal about the Huon Pine trees, but it was still interesting and very well signed along the way.

We stopped for a really good coffee and a shared piece of cake after our walk (we had earned it, we had earned it!) Needless to say by the time we left, the sun was out and the mist has burnt off – Que!!

Almost There

We drove back to Kingston pleased with our adventure and happy to recommend the experience to others. I will personally always love the Tingle Trees at home the best as they are just so wonderful, as are our native Karri, but these giants are also wonderful and well worth your attention.


Amongst the Tree Tops



HOVERING AT THE HUON



Glorious

 When we travelled out to do the Air Walk and to Cockle Creek we had to drive through the amazing Huon Valley. I have to say that so far, this is my favourite part of Tasmania. DD keeps telling me how much like England it is, and whilst I have no personal point of comparison, certainly it lives up to my story book image of Britain. Tiny villages set into lush green pastures, and nestled up against the banks of the incredibly beautiful Huon River. At this time of the year, the fields are hazed with gold and glorious luminescent crimson. Alpacas, woolly sheep and black and white Saddle Back cattle graze placidly along the way.


Still Glorious


The Huon River has to be the most picturesque I have ever seen. The ever present Button Grass stains the water to a golden honey colour and the dark waters present perfect reflecting conditions. Whole mountains reflect in their entirety along with trees, houses and boats. Boats! Tasmania apart from being an island has an absolute abundance of waterways – doubtless due to this, boats, particularly yachts and sailing boats abound. The photo-opportunities along the way for sailing boats perfectly reflected in the silky still waters were endless.

What Can I Say

We took advantage of a Huon River Cruise  (Franklin Eco Tours) – a delightful experience – 2 hours spent drinking good brewed coffee, nibbling elegant culinary treats and soaking in the abundant beauty of the river and surrounds. My camera was quite worn out! The boat cruise cost $65 and was perhaps a tad overpriced but we thoroughly enjoyed the experience and would certainly recommend it to other like minded beauty hounds. For those interested, the boat leaves daily at 2.00 pm from the pretty little village of Franklin. If I were to live in Tassie, I would want to live in Franklin. The town is historically significant and is just soooooooo very pretty. It is everything I could possible want and almost every home has water views. Hmmm, now how do I convince DD – the prices are right there as well, properties starting in the low $200,000s. In WA you would be looking at somewhere around a cool mill just for the land!

Words Superfluous

Oh well, I can dream – I doubt I will be able to convince the lad to move this far south. Until next time, hold on to your dreams – Stephanie.

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.