World Heritage Wilderness at its best

Almost all of south west Tasmania is a National Park.

Wilderness areas are such vital resources in the dwindling untouched areas of our planet. And yet, for these to be understood and appreciated for what they are and the important role they play, people need the opportunity to safely explore these areas.

This morning we are up the earliest we have started since leaving Brisbane. The alarm goes off at 5:30am. Argh, on holidays that seems all too early! But it is for good cause. This morning we are driving from Queenstown over the mountains and down the west coast slightly to Strahan to join the World Heritage Cruises, a local family-owned company who operate cruises on the Gordon River. We get to Strahan in the early morning light, with Gen dropping me off near the door and going to find the parking.

Remember, we were lucky to get the last two tickets on this boat. As I walk across the wharf apron towards the booking office, I marvel at the sleek vessel that sits alongside. It sure looks like someone has made a significant investment in this business. I can only hope that the last two years of Covid restrictions haven't crippled them. Surely now though, they are well into recovery. This boats seats 192 persons and carries 8 crew and 1 skipper. It is fully booked. And there is a second boat the same that we can only assume is also fully booked. Gen and I did a bit of mathematical calculation and at the income (less staffing, fuel and services) the company should easily service their debt. Good on them.  

I get into the office and see one of the sales staff immediately. While we had booked and paid for our tickets over the phone, I still need to collect them. I ask whether there was any option for Upper Deck seats - in the event of a cancellation or no-show. She explains that there have already been some requests, but that she will add our name to the list. In the meantime, she can offer us an upgrade from the centre seats to two window seats. Yes thank you, we most definitely want the upgrade. Another $70? Sure. An upgrade to the upper deck would have been another $150+.

We get the call to board the boat at 8 am. We are the first in line, and as the crew warmly welcome up aboard, I repeat my request to be considered for any possibility of an upgrade to the upper lounge. We are told that it will be highly unlikely, and are shown to our seats 341 and 342 on the starboard (right) side of the boat. The boat is filled very efficiently with two of the crew on the main deck and another three on the upper deck, just directing people to their seats. In every sense, this is a very well-oiled machine!

The boat is filled, and we are pulling away from the wharf on time at 8:30am. For the size of the vessel, it is very manouverable and responsive. The captain guides the boat - the Spirit of the Wind deftly through the Macquarie Harbour. A running commentary is continued by the crew, interspersed with video presentations by various 'charachters' that we get to know during our trip. We learn of the selttement of Strahan and the development of the company in whose hands we place ourselves today.

We commence our trip in Macquarie Harbour and travel the only safe channel with the history of past (early) engineering feats to render the passage safe for all vessels - of underwater 'walls' constructed with rock mined from the surrounding mountains. We continue at a standard speed, with very little wake - its amazing the power yet gentleness of such a large catamaran. There is no other marine traffic and there is a light rain falling gently against the huge picture windows that run the length of the boat. Inside, the cabin is spacious, with seating in a 2 aisle,4 ailse, 4 aisle, 2 seat configuration. despite the number of passengers, it is not crowded. Behind us is a service area where you can purchase snacks, morning tea, coffee, or alcoholic drinks. Lunch is included in the price of the tickets.

I digress. We are approaching Hells Gates. while it might sound alarming, in today's world of technological feats, this narrow passage, surrounded by shallows that can be as little as inches deep, provides the only route out of Macquarie Harbour - and in to the wilder Southern Ocean with ease. This is the realm of the almighty 'Roaring Forties' those infamous winds that have been the downfall of many a sailor! Inside the gates, it is easy to tell where the channel runs as the water looks a deep blue. All the other waters are varying shades of an almost tropical azure - reflecting the shallowness of those waters. From time to time during the voyage, the captain displays the depth (electronic) charts he is following and we can easily see the channel. We are now through the 'gates' and into deeper water. There are whitcaps all around us, yet the rise is still smooth, we can feel an increase in the swell, but it is not alarming, just more of a slight rolling sensation.

The next point of interest is to be shown a small part of the large industry that is salmon farming. We are advised that there are three companies farming salmon here in large circular 'pens' covered with mess, not to keep the fish in, but to keep predators out. Predators that include the Australian Fur Seal who very 'on-cue' pops his head to acknowledge the mention - far too fast for anyone to capture it by photo. Here one second, gone the next! Much of the process is mechanised with large vessels pulling up alongside the pens to dispense feed, clean pens and the waters they sit in, and even to vacuum harvest the fish from the waters once they have reached a marketable size.

We continue past Sarah Island, the home of yet another penal colony in this beautiful, isolated part of the world. Here were housed repeat offenders from points all over the settled world. But more of that later.

We have now reached the mouth of the mighty Gordon River. Without this cruise, the only way to see this area is by overland hike - and a very significant one at that. We have entered the World Heritage Listed area are the Gordon-Franklin River systems. The boat pauses, momentarily, as the diesel engines are switched to almost silent electric engines for the cruise in to the pristine waters that might have been lost. (There is a fleeting reference to the Green Lobby that saw the danger of dam construction in this area stopped, but this is definitely not the focus of the day.) There are a number of reasons that this hybrid boat with its electric engines is used. This provides the smoothest possible ride, and leaves no wake in its path. No wake means minimal water disturbance, and no damage to the banks of the river. Walk lightly, leaving nothing but footprints. We continue upriver until we reach the Gordon River Heritage Landing. It is here passengers disembark for a 45 minute walk to explore the old rainforest environment. I didn't partake as I wasn't sure that I could have completed the whole walk that is a one-way circuit all on a boardwalk again the manage any possible damage to this pristine area. Everyone returns to the vessel rosy cheeked from the chill, but animated with their stories of finds. Gen brings back photos including some of the largest fungi she/we have ever seen.

The company knows their passengers. It is know that they announce that lunch will be served. As I said before, a very well-oiled machine. They call small blocks of seats at a time to come to the service area, collect a plate, select your choice of lunch from a buffet of all Tasmanian produce including smoked salmon, freshly shaved ham, chicken pieces, pasta salad, coleslaw, potato salad, beetroot salad and green leaves. Breadrolls and butter complete the choices. You took what you wanted, and really there was no limit. Generous helpings of that salmon with thinly sliced segments of lemon available, were taken by almost everyone. And they just kept filling the platters! That smoked salmon was some of the freshest salmon I think I have ever tasted, not having smoked it myself. Lunch over, the staff collected plates rather than having a whole group of people milling around with scraps and empty plates - well-oiled!!

We are quietly motoring back towards Macquarie Harbour. Sated, people are quiet, reflecting on their experience thus far. There are mangroves, lush grassy banks and reed beds protecting towering trees, fallen logs that are slowly decaying to provide feed for new growth, and ferns like you imagine were found in Gwondanaland. It is magical. And green. Rich and precious.

Before too long, we are back at Sarah Island. The boat stops in sight of some of the salmon pens and some of the passengers step ashore to explore the harshest convict settlement in Australia. A 1hour guided tour, reliving the absorbing tale of how the convicts turned a hell on earth into one of the largest ship building yards in Australia. Pre-dating Port Arthur and feared by every convict, this settlement has a 'history with a twist'. The guide, Kiah, was the lady we booked our tickets with and she is enthralling and engaging. Again, I waited aboard while Gen joined those on-shore. Once all who wanted to go shore were ashore, I carefully got off the boat and walked the jetty, getting some photos of sandbeds, exposing shorelines and clumps of rocks. There is plenty of evidence of the former uses on Sarah Island - the ruins of a tannery, bakehouse and the ship-building works. Kiah brings this history alive through the stories of the inhabitants - convicts and freemen. The afternoon is passing quickly, and as the day passes, the sun heads for the horizon and the temperature is dropping.

We pass again through Hells Gates and on the ebbing tide, we see just how shallow the waters really are. The Spirit of the Wind docks just after 2.30 with thunderous applause for the crew and company.

We have tickets for the show 'The Ship That Never Was' starting in a few hours. Just enough time for a visit to the souvenir shop, a local restaurant for coffee and cake - Chocolate Molten Cake with raspberry ice-cream - Valhalla of course - and as we are sharing. We request a second scoop!!

A walk through the Strahan waterfront displays small but rather affluent looking period homes - as you would expect in a flourishing economy of free settlers.

Around to the Tourist Visitor Centre advises us of the location for the play - it is here that we collect our pre-booked tickets. Returning to the car, we drive back to here, so we are close when the play finishes. This play is the longest continual-running production in Australia - now in their 28th year. The setting is in a covered amphitheatre, covered, but still very open to the wind. No-one cares what they look like - we are all dressed for the weather! - mismatched, coats, beanies, gloves and blankets. Sitting on 'cushioned' (not really) planks in a tiered theatre-in-the-round setting, there is not a bad seat in the house.

Right on 5:30pm the show starts. And who should be a key actor? Why, Kiah of course!! In fact, there are only two actors to play the ten characters. It starts off well enough, with the seasoned calmness of a show well-known. Soon, it become apparent that audience participation is a must, and provides not only the other characters, but also the chorus and the off-stage commentary. The show is amazing. There was not a single person in the audience who did not fully engage with the players and the remarkable set that has been designed and constructed. A true theatre in the round. 

Gen tells me that she was secretly begging not me, not me, as they were corraling the participants, but I like to think that many of the audience were secretly begging to be chosen. The story, set on Sarah Island, tells the last story of the island, the last escape - and the wittiness that saw the fleers, freed. It involves the construction and pirating of the ship 'The Fredrick'.  The story is based on truth, and the play was written by Kiah's father - Richard Davey. We bought the book - I do not want to spoil it for anyone else who might get a chance to come and see this, so if you want to know more, you will have to borrow our book.

Suffice to say, it was a scream, engaging, exhilarating, participatory and most of all FUN. There was not a single person who left quietly. Everyone was chatting (and chattering as it is freezing by the time the show finishes at 6:45pm). what a wonderful effort and result from a small production company, passionate about their stories. A huge WELL DONE. #TheShipThatNeverWas.

A dusk drive back to Queenstown where Gen is really getting sick of hairpin bends. Tomorrow we leave for the north - with a base in Wynyard for the next few days.

Have we missed an election announcement while we have been here in the south? The quantity of political advertising is increasing exponentially. Bring on the bloody election, it can't come and go fast enough. 

The mid-west of Tasmania also deserves exploring.

Happy birthday to Gen - my travel companion, my partner in crime and my rock. I hope that you are enjoying your holiday in Tasmania as much as I am.

 

After reading much on what to see, do, taste and experience in Tasmania, before we had left home, I was determined to try to see some of the lesser visited areas of this amazingly beautiful state. After our visit to the Cradle Mountain National Park, we awoke this morning looking up to an altogether different view. The clouds still hang low over the peaks, and as the day warms and the clouds and their trailing mist lift, the 'different beauty' of the peaks around us make themselves known.

Following a 6 episode binge of season 2 of Bridgerton last night, this morning we sleep in. Looking at touring options around here last night, (and knowing that Thursday has been set aside for Strahan) we decided to drive to Derwent Bridge to visit The Wall.  If you know of it, then this is enough information. For those who don't click here. 

The morning is drab, which is kind of fitting for the setting we find ourselves in. 

This is an active mining town. Queenstown sits low in the belly of the mining area, surrounded by mined waste, new tailings and rocky outcrops currently being sifted for copper. The past mining and mass logging has created a surreal and rocky 'moonscape'. There is a dusty air, touched with the whiff of rotting eggs - i.e. sulphur (previously used in the refining of gold). And with that dusty air, there is a divide in the town. It is obvious to my thought at least, that there is the old and the new.

The new part of town wears a coat of success - there are enterprises flourishing with locals and visitors alike popping in and out of mixed businesses,service ships and cafes. The Empire Hotel, home to the The Rusty Iron Thai restaurant where we purchased the delicious dinner last night has any number of people milling around outside, obviously waiting on orders. The library is new, bold and modern in design. The hospital and Council sit snug in one of the side streets and, on the same side of the railway line as our motel, there are newer, more modern and perhaps slightly more affluent homes.

In the back streets behind the main shopping area, up the hills of the old tailing mounds, the houses are older, smaller, tired and dusty. They sit tightly side by side on small blocks without adornment or gardens. Windows are small and the construction materials are mismatched at best, perhaps dangerous (think asbestos) at worst. Out in the open, the reality of class divide silently screams. 

But, there is someone with a quirky, cheeky outlook. One of the nameless shops, like many other regional towns, there are plenty of vacant shops - some more recent, others with the layer of ages old dirt. Although not appearing open, it is artistically displaying all things orange. Bold, brassy, colourful and confident ORANGE. Everything from orange tupperware containers that we (or our mums) all once had, to an orange vacuum cleaner to orange crockery to orange linens to orange furniture! And whilst having a look around town this afternoon, we think that we found his home - this one was painted the EXACT same shade. And Gen thinks she might have seen the owner earlier, a long-bearded gentleman and his family - and he and his she are dressed in that same bright hue. A spark of bright in a town of drab. Fascinating! 

Queenstown is where the historic Western Railway operates from, but no amount of pleading can secure us a seat, they are booked out until mid-April. Now we are getting worried, as we want to go on the Gordon and Franklin River Cruises while we are here on the west coast as well. Turns out, we buy the last two seats for tomorrow - we hear (in the background while on the phone to the company), the exclamation as the other salesgirl in the office is just too slow to snag those last two seats for her cliemts. 

Before we travelled from Queensland, and while we have been here, there have been numerous adverts extolling people to visit the West Coast. It seems that locals (or perhaps the tourism gurus) feel that the trinity of Devonport, Launceston and Hobart, have garnered too much of the tourism $ and they are looking to balance the state's income somewhat.  Well, I think that they might have been altogether too successful. Accommodation has been very hard to come by and tours too, we are finding are full, or close to. 

Queenstown is central - a great place to base yourself for visiting the west and central parts of the state. We will have a good look around here, visiting the rail and mining museums on Friday before we leave for the north.

Today, as I previously said, we went to Derwent Bridge to see The Wall in the Wilderness, generally just known as The Wall. This is an amazing undertaking by initially single artist Greg Duncan and more lately with his son. From his website:
"On the 1st March 2005 in one of the most beautiful parts of Tasmania I set out to undertake sculpting a wall that would be 3 metres high and over 100 metres in length.

The material would be Huon Pine.
Through an often arduous at times but also immensely satisfying journey and over a decade and half later I welcome you to visit what is simply known as The Wall."

He requests no photography as a sign of respect to the moral copyright that the artist has of his work.

The panels appear to consist of 21-22 pieces of laminated Huon that have been carved. Some parts are left unfinished, to allow the observer to better understand both the creative and carving processes. And he has achieved this beautifully. The outcome is amazing, outstanding, awe-inspiring and pure beauty. From an acknowledgement of the first peoples, to the flora and fauna of the region to the endeavours of people and industry. From the muscleature of the straining horses to the desperate tears of a bereaved woman with her lined face, the detail is exquisite. Greg Duncan now carves permanently, both in art and fine furniture. I can only imagine that the furniture through the impressive building is more of his wonderful works. The building is so fitting. A large long barn style with The Wall displayed down the centre back to back in two long constructed pieces - at times quite separate, at others, flowing seamlessly across the joins.

We make a purchase to share with a wood carving artist friend who will be absolutely appreciative of this skill. I hope that he shares it with other wood-carvers locally as they too deserve to see this skill.  

The building is warm against the chill wind outside. At one end is a huge open fire. At the other, unobtrusive yet also large with a diameter of just under a metre round is a large wood fired stove. It is almost sad to walk out into the chill air again.

The air is very nippy and Gen, in her inimitable style basely states "It's good I'm wearing my padded bra!"

Stomachs are telling us that its time for lunch. There is a small cafe a kilometre back down the road called the Hungry Wombat. Its small, but clean. Gen decides on a beef and salad burger and I have a Ham, Cheese and Pineapple (yeah, yeah I know there are no pineapples here) toastie. Now, as far as toasties go, that was probably the best I have ever had. It was toasted to the edge, but soft inside, and filled with good quality ingredients. So both crunchy and soft. 

The only disappointment is that there are no wombats!

Despite all the signs, and a little road-kill on Bruny Island, we have yet to see any wildlife in the wild!

Its 84kms from Queenstown to Derwent Bridge, but the road is very winding with tight corners, its up and down hills and mountains. It takes a full hour and a half to do that drive. We average about 60 kph and I am sure that Gen's arms and legs are aching. There were times when she not only sounded tense, she looked it too. The concentration on her face tells me she is a good driver (asif I had any doubts).

Travelling back, we turn right and make a stop at Lake St Clair. Another iconic jewel in the crown of Tasmania. The Tourism Board must be congratulated. They have done such a stellar job, that the bookings for accommodation and tour operations are at a premium at the moment. Not only have we had trouble finding accommodation, we have missed out on seats on the Queenstown Historic Rail trip. It is booked out for the next six weeks. That is a real disappointment as this was one of the two tours we had hoped to do from here. So first thing this morning, Gen places a call to the operators of the Gordon River Cruises - who traverse the Gordon and Franklin River Wilderness areas.  There are only two seats left and we can hear the other salesgirl in the background exclaim when she realises that those last two tickets have been sold to us! Awe had wanted the Upper Deck as the views are meant to be better, but cannot get a seat at any time in the next month. Robyn Dowling tells me that she booked six months in advance to ensure she had tickets for John's birthday celebrations when they visited. Too bad that I had not known that before I left. Trouble was, I don't have the luxury of being able to plan my life that far out!

Lake St Clair is one of Tasmania's jewels. It sits high on a plateau, surrounded by smaller, less impressive lakes. Carved out by glaciers over millions of years, Lake St Clair is Australia's deepest freshwater lake. Located at the southern end of the Cradle Mountain-Lake St Clair National Park, it forms part of Tasmania's Wilderness World Heritage Area and offers spectacular scenery. The environment around Lake St Clair is among Tasmania's most spectacular. Deep glacial lakes are fringed by dense forests of ancient pines, and the high mountains provide a dramatic backdrop. Despite an abundance of native wildlife in the area – we see none.

Lake St Clair is also one of the start/finish points of the 5-8 day Overland Track, one of the country's greatest bushwalks. As we arrive at the Visitor Centre, there is a group of what seems to be experienced, very committed walkers assembling to begin the trek. Certainly not my cup of tea, although Gen remarks that it is a walk that perhaps one day she would like to do - you have my blessing my sweet, I do hope that you do indeed give it a go.

Like at Cradle Mountain, there are a number of walks that leave from this spot. There is a short walk to the Viewing Platform that we can do. Its late enough in the afternoon that there are few people around, and as we stop initially at the top of the viewing platform and then later on the beach below, we have the vista before us to ourselves alone. It is truly a breath-taking sight. Just to the right is the jetty fro which the ferry leaves. It stands, alone, jutting into the waters like the man-made intrusion it is.

The only difference between the drive over was that it was a little easier as the rain had stopped. It seems that daily average temperatures here are not reached until between 2 and 3 in the afternoon. Its is a good day for driving as there is enough cloud cover that we are not squinting in the afternoon sun. Nearing Queenstown on our return journey, the fuel light comes on. Gen can't believe how much fuel we have gone through in the last two days, but trips up and down mountains, braking then accelerating (forget cruise control on a day like today) guzzles the gas so to speak.

Our repast tonight is simple fare. We break out some crackers, the rest of our smoked salmon, a couple of cheeses and chutneys and the Old Kempton Distillery Barrel Aged Gin with a local Mandarin, Lime and Bitters soda water - very tasty.

Tomorrow we are headed to Strahan for our cruise and then an early dinner before we go to see the play 'The Ship that Never Was' on the recommendation of so many people - friends and members of the Travelling Tasmania Facebook page that we have been following. Friday we will have a good look at the two museums here - Mining and Rail - before we head for the north-west coast.

Gen has had lots of phone calls, and messages for her birthday today - thanks for helping to make her feel special. 

And on a sad note to finish today's tale, we received news of the early passing of a friend back home. Farewell Michele, you will be missed, but not forgotten. 

Cradle Mountain is definitely not for the nursery

We had quite an unexpected good night last night. While we had not any prior knowledge, given that we got not only the last room at Cradle Mountain Highlanders, but the last room at Cradle Mountain period, I did not really hold the highest expectations for our accommodation. Perhaps I should have. For despite the quaint presentation, the cabin was very comfortable and apart from the over-priced Peppers Lodge, it was the closest to the action on the mountain. The small heater disguised as an olde-time wood burning stove, was ever so effective. Gen sweltered whilst I was toasty and ever so comfortable. We turned the heater down and even opened the door - in galloped the cool (cold) air and even I find it refreshing. The bedding was comfortable and I enjoyed nestling down in to a pillowy mattress under the warmth of woollen blankets and throws. However there was one terrifying moment when a leg cramp caught me in the wee hours of the morning. Gen worked wonders with some excellent massaging and it wasn't long before I was again enjoying warmth under the bedding.

This morning dawned bright and clear.  Gen's phone was informing us that the outdoor temperature at 7:30am was 9.1 degrees, but felt like 1.9 degrees. And I certainly wasn't going to argue with that - it seriously was that cold! But it was a lovely, sunny day. and there was much to look forward to.

Now, I am not sure how Cradle Mountain was given its name. It certainly has nothing to to with infants. And the only nursery it resembles is that of a cloud nursery - like any mountain of size. What I can tell you is that this whole area is the result of millenia of nature at work - the building of the initial range through the violent works of volcanic actions which was then followed by the work of water - in its liquid and solid states. There is still plenty of evidence of the work of one or more major glaciers - the steep side valley sides formed in the wide U that they leave in their wake, and still more recent waters trickling or roaring, from spot to spot dependent on where you are. Streams feed into the numerous lakes on the plateaux.

We drive across the road (almost quite literally, that was how close the Highlanders was to the entry of the Park. At this early time of the morning, we are amazed at the parking - not the lack of, but the plentiness of it! Fortunately for me, my Disabled Parking access allows me to get as close as I can to places to see, and thing to do. However, as the distances are not short, Gen has decided that this morning should be a wheelchair outing rather than crutches. The Visitor Information Centre has been well designed. It is striking in weathered steel and Tasmanian timbers, yet blends sympathetically into the apline landscape. The story of the first peoples, their understanding of such a delicate environment and their guardianship of the same is told with pride and reverence. The explanations of the development is both comprehensive and yet written in such a way to be understood by people of all levels of comprehension. Quite and art, as anyone who writes will know (😉😉 )

As we had purchased out National Parks Pass at the Visitor Information Centre in Hobart, there are no further payments needed to enter into and partake of the wonders of this place. I am quite amazed that there is not additional cost to access such splendour.  The information staff are very obliging and helpful in their suggestions of walks that are suitable for both the wheelchair and, for crutches. So it is decided, we will do the Dove Lake walk as far as the iconic Boat Shed - you know that one that graces almost every other poster for Tasmania - a simple, old boat shed sitting lonely by a lake. All starts well, we board the wheelchair accessible electric/diesel hybrid fuelled bus that departs almost without noise, almost as if not to interrupt the surrounding. If only it weren't huge and bright blue! Fails miserably to be unnoticed due to those two factors! It is a twenty minute ride to cover the ten kms from the Information Centre to Dove Lake. 

Our drive is a true Aussie icon. He has a sense of humour as dry as a cracker, sharing hilarious stories and jokes. Like the one where he tells the passengers of the last lady who died in the lake ( a doctor) after being "bitten on the bum" and followed it with the statement, almost as an afterthought that all others died in hospital! All too soon, we are at our destination - almost too soon! As the wheelchair is cumbersome and hardly a dainty exposure from a bus, we are the last to alight. This gives the opportunity for all the other people on this bus (they are full, with yet another bus-load waiting when we left our departure point.) The best of that is that by the time we are off, all the other people have already set out on their treks - some of them took their jaunts very seriously and I guess they might be in for the full 5-7 day walk of the Overland Trek - good on them. I have far less pretentious expectations - the Boat Shed will do me just fine. We walk along the boardwalk that meanders through the delicate landscape. I must commend the National Parks Service - they insist on people staying to formed paths, and then provide the means to effortlessly do so.

And then, disappointment looms. Ahead of us are a set of broad steps. No railing. Too narrow for the wheelchair, too wide for by current step. In other words, a roadblock so to speak. Bugger. I did so want to see it with my own eyes. But, it is what it is, as is my latest mantra. I insist that Gen continue on to see it. I have the most beautiful backdrop to my wait. Looking across the still waters of Dove Lake to the majestic peak of Cradle Mountain with its sweeping expanse to the valley below and the slightly taller Barn Bluff with the clouds enveloping its tallest peaks. They lift, and settle. As though the mountain itself is breathing, in and out, in and out. It is cathartic. And beautiful. Walkers in both directions pass me, waiting in my wheelchair. Most bid a good morning, the occasional one concerned that I am alone. I am happy to wait, watching one of the true wonders of the world while waiting for Gen. In time, she returns and we re-trace our steps to the bus. Disappointed that we have a different driver (sounds unfair).

Back at the Visitor Centre, it is time to warm up a little - yay, coffee! Gen and I shared a Tasmanian Meat Pie and a delightful piece of Coconut Kakadu Plum slice - fashioned after our grandmothers' coconut jam slice, but instead of a crushed biscuit base, this has a light chocolate sponge which allows the jam and the coconut to shine. Once done, it is back to the car. The receptionist had earlier explained that there were two flat, mobility friendly walks that we could do. The Rainforest Walk left from the back door of the Ranger Station. It is well designed for those with mobility restrictions, or for prams or little feet eager to run and jump. It follows a gentle grade down the hill to a small brook that leads into the Pine River falls that topple noisily over a rock ledge into the lower stream. Framed by Pencil Pines and myrtle trees, there is so much more to see. Signs remind walkers to not only look up, but also to look down. On the forest floor there is the detrious of the seasons passing, breaking down to provide feed for the lichens and the amazingly green, lush carpet of mosses. There are the sporadic fungi - a more common brown one and then right at eye level, an orange coloured, and orange named one, quite rare for this time of the year - more commonly seen around Christmas. Large and spongy, it looks right in place, and yet, is not. The sign for the Rainforest Walk says it is a 10 -20 minute walk and I am pleased to do it in under the half-hour with my crutches.

Back at the Ranger Station, a sign directs us 80m towards the Enchanted Walk - the other one recommended . At the end of the 80m, we come to a pedestrian crossing at the road with another sign pointing a further 30m on. At that point we have reached the start of the Enchanted walk path. Supposedly a 900m walk, traversing a much more open landscape now. Still some of those mosses but with few trees, and instead bushes of heath and bushes of native leptecophylla juniperina - the Mountain Pinkberry - supposedly edible, but Gen looked horrified when I said that i would eat one!
By now, in the base of the valley, and with the wind dropped, it is becoming warm, in fact very warm. I am still wearing my new cold-weather wind-proof jacket. Its heavy on my shoulders and I am really now feeling the length of these walks. Its time to recognise that I have limitations. We abandon the walk about 600m in and return to the road. I cross the small bidge, taking photos of yet more waterfalls, so I can reach a spot where Gen can bring the car to a stop.

Its now time to set out for Queenstown. The afternoon sun is dipping and the air has a decidely nippy edge once I had rid my shoulders of that jacket! We travel along the road with little other traffic. Probably just as well. The roads continue to travel up and down mountain sides, weaving around the bases of the peaks. There is evidence of landslips, and much roadworks, like in many places across the land. Whilst the state road speed limit might be 100 (unless otherwise posted, as we are oft reminded), poor Gen spends most of the time driving at about 60-65 kph. We head for Queenstown, and having read of the Montezuma Falls on a number of the Tasmanian Facebook pages, turn off but abandon the road in after about 6kms of narrow winding twists and turns when we cannot discern how much further the falls are on what has become a gravel road. Having missed the first turnandtowrds Queenstown, and so drive toward Rosebery and towards Zeehan before turning again towards Queenstown.

I obviously had not done enough research. while we are staying in Queenstown because of the lack of accommodation at Strahan, there is much to know of here. Perhaps the name of the motel, the Gold Rush Inn, should have provided a clue, but it didn't! Queenstown is a major mining town. Once a bustling centre of alluvial gold mining, they  now mine copper and have major hydro investments.  There is evidence of mining infrastructure from the past years, and you cannot miss the sight of current mining operations - the mine towers over the town - like a festering sore on the landscape. Whilst the mining operations must still clearly contribute well to the company that controls it, the town shows little of that wealth. The town, although with an air of permanence, looks and feels tired. I am not sure whether the dwellings are impacted by the outputs of the mine, or the lack of personal funds by the miners to spend on their homes.

The suite we have booked is large, we have a full kitchen, dining and loungeroom, bedroom and bathroom. I think that it might have been previously the manager's residence. And, joy of joys, we have Netflix! A bit puny of me, but tonight, sitting in front of the telly, eating Thai takeaway which rivals the best we have had anywhere, we revel in the tittilations of Season 2 of Brigerton!

Huonville to Cradle Mountain - most Taswegins don't go that far for their holidays!

An earlier start to the day today. Gen decided that she needed to sleep in another bed last night, so took herself off to one of the single beds in the family suite at The House on the Hill. Last night Paul had put out the fruit and vege scraps from the day for his visiting possums - daily visitors they are. About 8:30pm last night we could hear them arrive and Gen turned her camera to night mode and caught three red-handed with the paws in the bicky-barrel so to speak!

We had told Paul we didn't need dinner last night and when we returned, there were two bikes on the verandah - turns out the other guests tonight are a couple in their 60's who cycle just for pleasure! There is nothing pleasurable about the cycle up the very steep driveway to the B&B. Paul says that they were very knackered when they arrived!! We didn't see then - we think that they must have soaked in a tub and then gone straight be bed. Lord knows, if it had been me, Paul would have been digging my grave.

We book (well, try to book accommodation for Cradle Mountain. At first all we can find with a vacancy is the Peppers Resort at a ridiculous price, I tell Gen I am happy to splurge on this night, but now, that room is no longer available. We find one room - literally one room left on the mountain - the Bushman's Hut at the Cradle Mountain Highlanders. 

I posted the blog and we re-arranged clothes for the next day in Cradle Mountain.
Breakfast for both of us this morning is just a continental one - Gen doesn't want to be driving on a full stomach. After a quick peck on the cheek and a hug, we leave Paul ready for our next leg of this adventure.

 

We know that today is going to be the biggest day of driving that we will do, so I need to make sure that I am on top of my pain meds. Uhoh, that's right - we need to find a doctor pronto to have scripts re-written. We were smart enough to bring scripts with us, and even to have made arrangements to phone our surgery in Maryborough (Qld) to get more if needed. However, what none of us were aware of, is that a pharmacist cannot dispense a script written in another state. We didn't know, our doctor didn't know and more did my haematologist. But the first pharmacist we saw in Hobart did! Paul has advised that the Huon General Practice in the Main street was where he went. So after a quick trip to the local Woollies for coffee sachets (they are too expensive to buy at local shops), we call in to the doctor's practice. We explain our predicament, and I explain that I have Qld scripts AND a letter from my haematologist stating which drugs I am travelling with (experience told me to get this even though Dr Henden thought it was over-kill). The receptionists explain that the practice is fully booked for today - surprised? Not at all, this is a nation-wide issue. They tell us they will consult the doctor and see if she can squeeze us in). I can't thank Dr Tracey Rush for seeing us, and to her other patients for giving us fifteen minutes of her time. The receptionist apologises that the practice does not bulk-bill. That was the very least of my problems I assured her. Gen walks to the chemist next door to be told it will be a ten minute wait. And like ALL other pharmacies across the country - that 10 minutes stretches to 30.

Later than we had hoped, but pleased that we could now safely finish our trip with me covered for all my medications, we set off.  First stop was Willie Smith's Apple Shed again - to buy apples and the most delectable chocolate covered freeze-dried raspberries. OMG we wish these were growing on a tree up home! There has been rain forecast and now, the weather obliges - it is raining full on as we head back to Hobart before turning north-west on the Midland Highway for Cradle Mountain.

Now on the other side of the range, the rain has cleared and we are travelling in a beautiful autumn day. We pass the turn-off to MONA (been there done that) and continue to head away from Hobart towards the Midlands Highway. The suburbs of Hobart are thinning out and before long, we are in open fields. You know - those bucolic scenes (Gen has learned a new word) where cattle and sheep and horses graze on lush grasses. Overall, it looks dry, but orbital irrigators

We pass any number of tourist routes turn-offs and by the time we get to Kempton, we decide that it is such a small detour, that we will follow it for a look-see. Kempton is one of those quaint little towns filled with sandstone and timber homes of years gone by. Ooh, and there is a Distillery.  I didn't know this - or did I??! We pull up as the only other vehicle is leaving. It is one of those grand old lady of the era type of buildings - actually it was an 1840's Inn, that would be very comfortable against her British cousins. Beautiful rich sandstone, crushed sandstone paths around very neatly manicured garden beds filled with Lavender and Rosemary - and such healthy looking plants. There are only four steps up to the main entrance, but they are very high steps. We espy a sign that points to Disability Access around the back. In through the courtyard we go, set up with numerous wooden picnic and outdoor settings - testament to the frequent Sunday visitors from Hobart - less than 50kms way.

The Old Kempton Distillery manufactures - sounds too processed, distils both whiskey and gin. Too early yet to sample, and having had a tipple or two previously, we purchase a little of each. Turns out food and drink are fast becoming our no 1. spending item!! The building has been set up suitable for indulgences. The Club Lounge is luxe in every sense of the word. Lots of richly stuffed leather chesterfield armchairs and lounges with small wooden inlaid tables. There are a number of small casks lining one of the walls, all labelled with the contents.  We need to use the bathroom before we go and this is the first 5⭐ toilet I have ever seen.

Apart from the necessities of life, such as the Who Gives A Crap toilet paper, there is a beautiful wing armchair, again leather puffed full with stuffing. And a baby chage station complete with wipes and lotions and soft towels. A stunning period light hangs gracefully from the highlight ceiling. There is softly fragranced hand-lotion next to the soap for all to use. All in a room big enough to contain a wheelchair and two prams at the same time! Yep, 5⭐ all the way!

We are now conscious that the day is passing and we need to seriously get on the road. 

It is the kind of day that calls for us to turn off the car air-conditioning and wind down the windows. Its the kind of day perfect for a sports car with the top down to allow the wind to caress your hair and the sun to kiss your cheeks. There are three routes that we can take to travel to Cradle Mountain and decide to follow the southern-most road as it will take us through the Lakes District en-route to today's destination. Moving away from urbanlandscapes, we have entered the bucolic scenes (Gen learned a new word) where the cattle and the sheep and the horses and the goats eat their fill from lush pastures. And yet the land is much drier that I thought it would be. Farmlands are serviced by both travelling and pivot irrigators, shooting jets of water gently into the air and carried on the breeze. The smells of the countryside are changing - the smell of freshly cut grasses and grains, of wildflowers in bloom and of rich manure. Ahh - got to love that smell! And yet, it is still preferable to air-con.

Travelling along Highway 5 we head towards Deloraine.

The scenery changes with every turn of a corner, every climb up and over a hill. Before too long, we leave lush pastures for state forests, conservation areas and national parks. The trees thicken then thin again and finally there are none - just scruffy shrubs then miniature ferns and bright green carpets of moss amid lichen covered rocks. We know we are in alpine areas (apart from the signs) when we again see the orange roadside markers - orange so that you still stay on the road during snow and sleet. And yet, the lakes so named, are all dry. Imagine Lake George north of Canberra and you will understand the landscape. I feel a little cheated.

Then in the middle of nowhere, amoungst a stand of trees, we come upon the Steppes Sculptures. The 14 bronze sculptures on a circle of large stones in the middle of a forest created by Stephen Walker with each piece representing something from the area, either natural or of historical significance. Almost bizarre. Out in the middle of nowhere, unexpected. It leads to the question . . . if a tree in the forest falls and no-one sees it, does it crash.  If a monument is set in such an unexpected place, how many can experience it? Gen thinks that the twelve stones in a clearing in a forext, perfectly arranged in a circle with a large flat stone in the centre would be perfect for some sacrificial purpose (those are Gen's words - as though I need to tell you that!) They are quite stunning and lies beside a path leading to the original homestead of the Wilson family. A little more invigorated and much more animated, we push westwards. 

Passing through places with names like Nowhere Else and Promised Land and peckish now, we pull in to the Miena Roadhouse and Motel - a fairly new looking building - obviously to cater for the trout fishers at the nearby dam. And as we are there, so are two members of the Gideon Society - placing bibles in the rooms, and unsuccessfully trying to give one in person to the manager - no luck. Gen had just said that they looked like "bible salesmen' - turns out she was right! She must be a better judge of person than me!! lol.

Finally we top a hill and see water - lakes and lakes of water. Another lookout, another photo opportunity. We come across the Hydro-electric Power and Metallurgical Company built a small dam across the Shannon River at the southern outlet of the Great Lakes in 1914. It has been enlarged twice since and it now holds back 3,000 million cubic litres of water and 48% of Tasmania's total energy storage capacity. Think of Sydney Harbour set high in the mountains and you can begin to visualise what we are looking at. Its massive! 

All around the shores of the lakes there are any number of fishing hamlets - simple structures, many of them converted tin sheds. At first there are three or four, then we turn another corner and see perhaps fifty dwellings. Many of them appear deserted, but there are still a number in use today - evidenced by utes pulling boats on trailers or by wisps of smoke drifting on the wind from a log-burning stove.

The trip is a slow one, being dictated by the terrain we are crossing. Up and down hill, weaving along the bottom of valleys adjacent to watercourses. we are starting to feel a little anxious - despite the few small hamlets and villages, we have not passed a petrol station as the tank falls under 1/4 full.

None to soon, we reach Deloraine, a town classified by the National Trust for its historic buildings. We have been munching on apples, dried apples, meringues (mint) and chocolate covered raspberries, but are craving something a little more substantial. We park across the road from some cafes, but at 3pm we are too late for lunch and too early for dinner. The Cycles at Empire (cafe by day, restaurant by night) has one ham and cheese foccacia left for toasting, so that's what we share. Actually it was delicious, ham off the bone, seeded mustard, quality cheese, tomato and salad greens. Washed down with a milkshake, it filled a hole! Leaving Deloraine we see the Shell Service Station coming up. Gen pulls in, and an attendant springs into action. He comes around the back of the car to Gen's window, startling her somewhat. He starts to ask what she wants and I just say fill it please. Gen has never experienced full driveway service before and doesn't know what to do. I tell her just get out and follow him in to pay. She is chuffed! Yep, we are way out of the city in every sense and service is service. Unfortunately we don't have time to explore any more as we need to check in my 6pm. Google Maps has us arriving at 5:57pm, so we must push forward. We might have time to have a bit of a wander en-route to Queenstown late tomorrow.

The last stretch of the trip is slow. Hairpin turns abound, and the slope is increasing. Cradle Mountain looks more and more spectacular the closer that you get to it. There are towering cliffs and crevices where plant life clings precariously. The sun is slipping behind the mountains and the areas of shade are getting cooler. Yes, we are back in the mountains. The windows still down, the air becomes dank - damp and mossy and there are patches of water on the road. Its about now we decide that it is too cool and we somewhat reluctantly wind up the windows. Unlike yesterday where our progress was commented on by road signs, all of a sudden we find we are upon the driveway into the Cradle Mountains Highlanders.

Gen checks us in and gets directions to our cabin - The Bushmans Hut.

Its quaint. Think of those American cabins in the woods and you have it. Up four steps onto a verahdah, we open the door to find almost EVERYTHING constructed of timer. Beds are rustic with a rail ladder to a bunk over a double bed. There is a hand hewn table, a timber stool and timber shelves. Thankfully the bathroom has a working standard issue toilet and shower! AND there is a gas heater that is so efficient that after 20 minutes, we need to open the door to allow frosty fresh mountain air to balance the enveloping warmth. A simple dinner of crackers with cheese, a variety of relishes, smoked salmon and a bottle of cider!

Tomorrow we are off to the Cradle Mountain Visitor Centre for options for walks - we are pretty sure that Dove Lake is doable in part, and hopefully one or another of the smaller walks. Given the lack of accommodation, we are heading to Queenstown late tomorrow. We are staying at least 3 days and will do some tours from there.

The night air is chilling and both of us are tired after a long day of travel. We have left a few pieces of apple on the verandah and are keeping an ear out for creatures of the night. Time for bed. The eyes and my back are telling me so. Gute Nacht as some of our friends would say. 

The Huon - a place to exercise the nasal passages (and your feet!)

Its been a long time since we slept in a double bed, and even longer since we have shared one! Gen didn't sleep particularly well, afraid that her rolling would wake me. I need to find some way to convince her that I sleep the sleep of the 'assisted' and that even though I might have asked her if she was ok, I really don't wake fully! I do remember waking at some point in the night to turn off the electric blanket that I had put on before I retired last night.

  

We woke to an amazing day. 

Gen tells me that the forecast is for 26 degrees - yep, you read that right! The morning is crisp, but not cold. Southern Tasmania has it's own version of the long-white-cloud (sorry, not sorry, NZ). Today, it sits above the valley below, about on a par with The House on The Hill B&B. Above us only sky (wow, I think I could make a killing with that lyric 😉) and certainly no hell below. The cloud tapers to a mist towards Mt Wellington, and to the south. There is already some heat on the air, so the morning breeze is more balmy than we have experienced since arriving in Tasmania.

We come into the shared dinind/sitting room to find the other couple staying here (from Melbourne) already eating breakfast. Paul has laid the large table for us, and a smaller table for them. They are not very chatty, so I resort to asking lots of open questions. Amazing how quickly they finished and left! Gen has ordered Bacon and Eggs and I am having a continental breakfast. A selection of three cereals awaits me, plus a jug of milk, a bowl of yoghurt and two bowls of fruit - strawberries and grapes, raspberries, blackberries and blueberries. Followed by sourdough bread toasted and raspberry and apricot jams. Perfect, just perfect.

Hunger sated, checking the washing Gen did and hung out last night, to find it about 80% dry (so we left it), we headed back down the hill to Huonville town. We are hoping to visit Willie Smiths Apple Shed. Everything we have read of and been told about this establishment tells us that it is one of those iconic must-sees. Its a couple of minutes north of town - we had passed it coming in late yesterday, so we know just where to go. Its Sunday morning and apart from those hurrying to Church, there is little traffic. However, there is already a tour bus pulled in when we get there - must be one of the early departures from Hobart. The Cellar Door does not open until noon, about three hours from now. If they had been open, we certainly would have been up for a cider tasting, but with breakfast just passed us, we opted for a slice of Apple Pie - OMG these need to be seen to be believed. The apples are sliced not chopped and I reckon I count 14 or 15 layers of apple. Served warm with plain ice-cream and topped with two slices of dried apple, this is the stuff that memories are made of. Just like Nanny and Mum used to make. You know this aroma, it is a warm kitchen, love in the hands and fruit freshly peeled encased in a hearty pastry with just THE right amount of bite - not soggy, not dry. There are obviously a number of differing apples used - some are firm with a slight crunch still, whiles others are soft and moist. It definitely lives up to its reputation! And with the cellar door not open for hours, we had to settle with a shared glass of Organic Cider - there were four to choose from available at the cafe counter and this one was the recommendation of the lass serving us.

We sit overlooking the display distillation room, but have too much to see to laze the morning here. Now bloated, we head the car south. Back through town to the turnoff at Geeveston, 22 kms away. We are headed to the Tahune Adventures base where I want to do the Tahune Airwalk. This is a walk on a cabled, cantilevered corridor, complete with stopping platforms and a cantilevered lookout above the Huon River, overlooking formerly logged old growth forests that have been replanted. 

The day is so nice, that we turn off the air-conditioner and wind the windows down. Straight away, your senses are heightened, odours are for the smelling and sights are brighter. Passing through small apple towns, there are two smells we encounter - the decay of road-kill, all too frequent, and the wood-smoke of kitchen or sitting room fires in country farms. Smells are so integral to our memories.

 As you snake your way down what was probably original logging tracks that have now been sealed, you pas the occasional sign that says - Planted Area following clear-felling. The oldest section we pass is 1961, so that is 60 and a bit years, and still the forest has not recovered fully. We were told on the boat two days ago, that is takes about 120 years for a tree to reach mature height. During our 29 km drive into Tahune (from Geeveston), we pass lots of signs 'Are we There Yet' 'Halfway' 'Not much further' 'Nearly there' and 'Yaaay. You made it'! Obviously, plenty of people in the past have commented on the long drive in. It might only be 29 kms, but up and down hill, round and round the mountain range, it certainly feels longer and takes about an hour! Still, its not all bad. We cleanse our nostrils in the clean eucalypt laden air, we marvel at the sight of MASSIVE trees, both standing and felled, at the size of the ferns from delicate small varieties that hug the roadside, probably competing with traffic to large tree ferns with fronds that span tens of metres. There are a couple of babbling creeks chattering away as their waters tumble rock and fallen timber.

Finally we arrive at the Yaaay sign. Disabled Parking is just across from the entry booth. There is a sign that says that people with disabilities can be catered for and to ask the staff, and without any further prompting, that is exactly what Gen does. Turns out that there are 100 steps up a graded walkway to get to the start of the Airwalk. 14 I can do (at home), 20 I think I could manage once a while, but 100, I have no hope. So, the disability option is to drive the first part of the walk (you should see the smouldering looks we get from walkers as we drive over the bridge) to the start point of the Airwalk. Once there, Gen is up a gum tree - she had not realised that the Airwalk was so high above the ground, but I am determined, and the tickets bought.

We step off solid ground onto what many would feel was an engineering feat. It is an open mesh walkway that would be just wide enough for a wheelchair if needed. The  Tahune AirWalk is an elevated walkway 30 metres above the forest floor, with the final cantilever section sitting at a height of 50 metres above the Huon River, with spectacular views to the confluence of the Huon and Picton Rivers and beyond to the peaks of the World Heritage Area. It is 619m in length (yay me - I walked the entire length) and at its highest point is 50m above the ground - 150 feet or about 30 of me on top of each other. When you put it like that, you can start to appreciate just how high it is. We walk passed a number of trees that tower above us on the walk - easily 100m high, perhaps even higher. They tower so far above us that we cannot get the entire tree from floor to tip in one shot on any of the devices we are carrying. Nature is indeed wonderous.

The Leatherwoods are in bloom and I yearn for honey, Huon Pines and lots of other native species fill in the sight line. I've abandoned my jacket and am now down to a light summer top. Except for the lack of humidity, I could have been in my home-state. Once we return to the office to check in (they recorded our rego number in case we did not return) it was time for some lunch and the obligatory Valhalla ice-cream - Tasmania's own. Chef freshly-cooked my hamburger was delicious and Gen enjoyed her Chicken Salad. Gen chose a Choc-Mint ice cream in a cone - it tasted of fresh mint and was nothing like those sickly sweet ones we get back home. My Salted Caramel crunch was decadently rich, and yet not overly sweet. Can someone check if we an get Valhalla Ice Cream in Queensland please.

By now it is pushing 3 o'clock. We have run into a Brisbane couple we have seen a few times over the last couple of days. Turns out they are returning to spend a few days with friends just outside Hobart tonight - so we won't encounter them again. We leave Tarhune and turn yet further south - pushing down the coastline for another 20 odd kilometres to Dover. Its Sunday, the roads are quiet. We pass sleepy little towns with every house built to make the best of their vantage-points over the D'Entrecasteaux Channel. Who can blame them. While there is some new development, it appears more to cater to seasonal workers - fruit-pickers and those working in the Salmon industry. Just north of Dover at Port Huon is a wharf that is dwarfed by two HUGE trawlers. These belong to the Tassel enterprise. We can see some of the pens that they grow some of their salmon in, but I suspect that these trawlers head into the deeper, much colder waters further south beyond the Tasman Sea. I remember a tussel between Tassel and Huon Salmon a couple of years ago with one accusing the other (can't remember which one) of overstocking their salmon pens and crowding the bay.

On our way back to our accommodation we stop off in Geeveston to have a look at the Arve Big Tree, a fallen swamp gum, thought to be one of Australia's tallest trees that started growing about 500 years ago. It survived the devastating bushfires of 1967 but was sadly lost in the Riveraux Road bushfire of 2019. 

We hop and jump our way back t Huonville, stopping at each roadside stall, wanting to buy some apples. We were hoping to buy a variety and no more than 1kg as we have limited capacity to keep things cold. Sadly, the smallest we can find are 3kg bags of single varieties. We'll try one of the fruit-shops as we leave tomorrow morning for a selection.

Tomorrow we head slightly east to travel the towns in the other side of the Channel - Cygnet (where one of Gen's workmates was born) and Verona Sands before we head into the midlands, perhaps to Cradle Mountain or to Strahan on the west coast - wherever we can get accommodation. We are now well into our second week, and already it feels like we are running out of time.

Time to hit the pillow - we are hoping for an earlier start in the morning - and look, its only 8:30pm!

Bruny - an island of two parts

And that I did. (Slept well last night for those of you you have not read yesterday's lot).

Although we all refer to Bruny Island, this land, off the south-east coast of Tasmania, is  two islands connected by a long, narrow isthmus. We have spent the last day and a half on South Bruny and this morning are travelling up to North Bruny Island. We only have this one day, as we have booked accommodation for the next two nights at the House on the Hill, a B&B in Huonville.

The day has dawned nice and clear. Except for the occasional passing vehicle, we sit with  the door open, quietly contemplating our lot. There is no wind and the waves just gently kiss the beach, a sound we almost need to strain to hear. It is definitely  autumn. The morning light is gentle, almost weak, muting the colours of our surrounds. This morning, the water is the colour of my new jumper - a baby blue. There is a line of rocks that must be the edge of an underwater ledge. The waves roll gently over the line, in a line, perfectly horizontal to the narrow beach. Outside the protection of this little bay, the water is a deeper hue of blue and from the deck of our villa it almost looks navy. And, in the distance, the landmasses around us are softened by the early morning mist.

We take our time over break-fast. Croissant and roll, a shared banana, the last of our cheese and a couple of 'packet' lattes and we are ready to hit the road.

There is no one at the pub at this time of the day, so we leave the room key in the drop-box and head off. We make one stop at the Bread 'Fridge' and opening the door, are greeted by warm, yeasty smells. The magic baker has been hard at work and replenished the supplies, depleted by yesterday afternoon. 

Our final visit on South Bruny is to the Bruny Island Chocolate Company. We are told that the owner and manufacturer is a pastry cook by profession and fell in to fudge making about 10 years ago when he realised there was a market gap. There are the usual assortment of chocolates, catering to the family and mass markets, but they also have some nice speciality ranges including a boxed selection of six, described as "More than a heavenly chocolate indulgence, our delicious premium quality handmade fudge with a rich creamy texture and distinctive, mouthwatering flavour to satisfy the most discerning of connoisseurs". Add to the mixed box, i have a Hounds Tooth Tasmanian Whisky Fudge, two chocolate sauces - one Brandy and Cointreau and the other Chocolate Mint, a bag of chocolate caramels and chocolate fruit and nut mix fill our bags.

Next stop is The Neck - at the lookout high atop the only hillock on the isthmus that connects south to north Bruny. The tide is out and I can see Sandpipers busily digging in the exposed sandflats for tasty morsels to eat. There is the odd family with kids digging in the sand, hoping to find some sort of little treasure, and the occasional tourist couple, hand-in-hand without a care in the world, immersed in their togetherness, with not a single other soul in sight along the beach.

The steps up to The Neck lookout are insurmountable - at least for me. 279 steps are just too many more than the 14 steps at home! Gen graciuosly (although probably silently cursing) offers to climb for the photos. They are truly stunning. You look north and south, and across the bays devoid of almost all water - you can even see Kunanyi in the distance. What a sight. Gen tells me that there are lots of small burrows all up the side of the hill - home to Fairy Penguins no doubt.

All too soon, we are back on North Bruny, with a list of places to visit before we leave. First call is at the Bruny Island Honey where they have a huge swarm of bees busy in a perspex covered box, which is behind closed doors. We sample a number of their varieties and purchased a small pot of creamed honey 'Bruny Island Prickly Box' honey and some Manuka Honey lip balm. I had used a sampler to test it on my lips and there was no immediate bad reaction, so finger's crossed they might help relieve them. The winds are not chaffed lips friendly!

Honey done, we move on to the Bruny Island Cheese Company. Fresh cows milk cheeses are made on the island from O.D.O. (one day old) cheese to a range of soft rind, washed rind and cheddar styles cheeses. Gen really only likes the two milder cheddar styles, but I am in my element. Not a blue in sight, but the washed and soft rind cheeses are very edible, lacking that acrid bite that often comes with a young, immature cheese. It's close enough to lunch time to sit and savour the bites here. Also on offer are ciders and beers with some other local wines and sparkling drinks, but for the time being, we just sit with apple juice (cos you can't be in Tasmania and not have the Apple Juice!) and coffees. A selection of three cheeses - O.D.O., Tom and Saint - refer to their website linked above for a description, proscuito, baguette, Ligurian olives and pickled beetroot and gherkins. Very tasty. As neither of us are oyster fans, we skip the Oyster Shack and instead head to the Bruny Island House of Whisky - much more my tipple of choice!

The Bruny Island House of Whisky sits high on a hill just 1 km from the Ferry to Kettering (Tasmanian Mainland). They boast the largest selection of Tasmanian Whisky's for sampling. Given that I haven't gone looking for other tasting rooms, I am happy to take them at their word! You can choose a 'flight' of four whiskies from one of four shelves all differing in price - from $60 per person up to the Champions (top) shelf at $295 pp. This is after all, 4 nips of whisky. We splurge and choose level 2 @ $75pp and opt to just share the tasting. We had one nip of 1. Nant - Tasmanian Highlands Single Malt, Bourbon Cask, 2. Trappers Hut Limited edition Tasmania Single Malt Whisky, 3. Lark Malt Whisky Small Cask Renaissance and 4. Callington Mill Tasmanian Single Malt Tango. I think we both the last one best. And of course, we can't go passed without trying their Gin. I had a Seclusion Gin with Soda and Gen, not liking gin, had a non-alcoholic Raspberry and Chilli Sparkling Ginger Beer  - after all, she is driving lol. At just over $90, we have contributed very generously to the local economy here thank you!

The day is slipping by and we are no headed or the Huon Valley. The crazy thing is that while everything is so close (as the crow flies) in Tasmania, the travelling times are longer than anticipated due to the narrow, winding roads. So we are pleasantly surprised to find that the trip to Huonville is all on multi-lane highways - even if it is steep in places. Disappointingly, there is no where to pull over as the first views along the floor of the Huon Valley come into view. It is a stunning sight - with a long, fertile valley nestled at the base of ancient hills on either side. we will just have to come back and hope there is a lookout somewhere. Through Huonville we drive - its a slightly larger town and we see some take-away establishments (although none of the chains - yay!). Lining the road into the town are apple orchards - lots of them. And we pass the Willie Smith Apple Shed that we have heard so much of. We plan to return here tomorrow to sample some of the 70+ varieties of apples that they are supposed to grow.

We follow Google maps to find The House on The Hill B&B that we are booked in to for the next 2 days. Turns out we don't need to find that lookout after all - this is set high on the Hill overlooking Huonville and we can look up and down that fertile valley. I'll make sure that Gen includes some pics on Facebook. Owner Paul greets us and shows us into a lovely double room, with a huge bathroom and access to a large dining and lounge area and verandah off that. Paul explains that the original house was built in the early 1980's and added on to in the late 1990s. It is very well set-up for a B&B.

There is one other couple here at the same time - they arrive back from their outing about 30 minutes before Dinner. 

Paul has a limited menu and we have both chosen Seafood Bisque - tomatoes, herbs, cream, potatoes and seafood to be followed by 'The Best Tasmanian" Cheese platter and port for two!  OMG I can hardly swallow, I am so full! Paul's Bisque was home-made with home-grown potatoes and lots of Tasmanian seafood. Our plates were filled to the brim with Seafood - literally. There were mussels, prawns, calamari rings, scallops and fresh and smoked fish. He was explaining that he makes his fish broth on the shells and heads of the prawns. No wonder it tastes so rounded and complete! I couldn't finish my serve - he jokes that he only gave us a small bowl - Maaate, I'd love to see a big bowl!!

We finished the evening with Paul, asking him to share the ENORMOUS cheese plate - plated with about 6 cheeses, from blue, to soft crumbly cheddar to truffled to camembert etc. There were a variety of pastes, olives, gherkins (chillied), chorizo, salami and bread and crackers - we would have done better to have just had this platter! Served with a glass of Penfolds Club Port that matched the rich pickings beautifully.

We sit, we talk. We drink coffee and finish the night on caramels and truffles that we purchased this morning. All in all, a lovely way to spend the evening.  Paul had asked what time we wanted breakfast in the morning. Origianlly we said 8am, but have changed that to 9 am - to make sure our digestive systems are ready for the next generous servings!  Pays to stay in local small hotels, B&Bs etc and not in the big multi-nationals. The people you meet are so passionate about what they do and the area that they are in. 

Nitey nite, my head is telling me I need to go to bed 😉😉 

When luxury is not is cracked up to be

Happy birthday for me. The last two years has certainly taught me to appreciate every day I get on this side of the ground.

Our villa (no longer calling this one a cabin!) is luxe all the way.
The bed is high with a mattress that is about 50cm high. I have to do a little hop to get up on it! Gen had put the electric blanket on for me we first got in last night, so despite the wind that we can hear swirling gently around outside, we are toasty warm.

Turns out that we are probably a little too warm. We got into bed, and within minutes I am asleep. Gen too slept well initially, but woke at 4:30am, and was unable to get back to sleep. She thought it might have been because of my snoring! Moi? Surely not! We know that this is a rare occcurrence, but whatever, she couldn't get back to sleep. Just inside the door to the Villa is a long bench with a cushion running its length. I told Gen that I would happily sleep there, but she wouldn't hear of it. Instead, this was where she took herself, a couple of pillows and the most exquisite cable-knitted blanket (it is too large to call a throw). Looking into the black expanse of the night outside, she says that she could see darker splotches, so pointing her phone she captured pictures of 5 Pademelons within touching distance of the villa! She sleeps for another 3-4 hours here. I guess we are just not used to luxury!

This morning we are off back over to Adventure Bay to take one of the Pennicott Widerness Cruises - a 3 hour sojourn into the waters off the Island. The jetty is right at one end of the main road network. We drive through sleepy little hamlets full of little tin and timber shanties and 1950/60s beach holiday houses that are slowly being crowded out by the brash newcomers with their endless sheets of glass and timber. Sadly we count 7  animals newly deceased as roadkill. We have been warned by all the locals of the dangers of driving between dusk and dawn and on our way home from the supermarket yesterday afternoon we carefully watched three pademelons and a wallaby hesitate and then jump back into the bush.  

Even now, well into autumn, there are enough people booked for this cruise that two boats are taken out. Our deckhands are Dean and Ben. They are confident and very able, checking on everyone, all belted in, caped up and had their 2 ginger tablets - swallow with water, not chew they are trying to instruct an Indian family. Charades works all over the world! We begin our journey with a bit of drama - the Indian older man (grandpa) slipped between the jetty and the boat - lightning fast reflexes saw Dean and Ben grab him, but they were obviously shaken and almost had him undressed to make sure he was not injured. After a few minutes of checks, they again checked everyone else and then we drew slowly away from the jetty - as though letting the apron strings slowly out. The the full force of the three massive engines were unleashed and nose up, we sped out into the Bay. The two boats weave in and out up and over each others wakes and its not too long before the dolphins arrive to play in the waters. Obviously the cruise operators and these wild animals are well-known to each other. The engines are cut and passengers race for the optimum spots to capture photos and videos. Dean explains that with smartphones, the best way to capture footage is with video and then take screenshots for particular photos you want. Most of us are clueless, but he came to the rescue explaining how to do this for Android and iPhones! Ah, to be young again and able to keep up with the constant changes in technology!

Finally with the fill of dolphins, we resume our seats and buckle up again. Ben and Dean are quite the team, very relaxed, treading the boards constantly chatting to the passengers, sharing stories and groan-worthy dad jokes! They explain that we will be hugging the coast on the trip out, and will journey back in the open waters. Dean in particular is a wealth of knowledge and stories. A lifetime local, it is very obvious that he is passionate about this environment and enjoys sharing it with others. He explains that here at the northern end of Adventure Bay we are travelling passed Jurassic period basalts that are 'breathing' rocks reflecting the motion of the ocean. Over the millenia since they were thrust up through the earth, the rocks have been continuously pounded by the relentless sea, slowly but ever so indeterminably worn away. Caves are worn into the occasional softer striations- initially just small openings growing eventually into larger, deeper or taller openings. 

We move in closer, watching the swell work its magic, rolling with that swell, marvelling at the colours in the lichens, at the size of the Bull Kelp (Kombu) that hangs tight at the tide line, floating above, then dashing under the water. There are a myriad of small crustaceans (limpets and barnacles) that cling on the the rock for dear life. Dean relates stories of finding abalone in the same area. He warned us against over-indulging in any one sitting as they have a laxette-like side effect! Moving further south, Dean manoeuvres the boat into some of the cave openings, we traverse the Tasmanian equivalent of the Bay of Islands. The basalt cliffs tower 294m above us. You need to lean out from the shelter of the boat canopy to even see the top of them. Wind and water have combined to form tall, symmetrical columns that sit tightly beside each other locked in an eternal battle with the elements.

When a cave continues to be eroded, you end up with an arch and even loner erosion causes the arch to fall, leaving two columns. We pass through one spectacular set of rock columns known as the Guardians of the Sea - with a regal aura. The column further out wears a 'crown' and is called the King Column and his mate, the Queen Column is slightly smaller and appears the have long locks of hair. Its amazing what a story can add to your imagination! It is near here that Dean pulls nose in close to the landmass and it doesn't take long for us to realise that he is showing us a blowhole. The incoming tide increases the force of the blowhole, spraying us all with a fine mist. Its about now, that I can start to sense the timing of this swell. Without my crutches, I have decided not to try to stand up during this cruise, and so while others are rushing around trying to get the prized shot with water spray and mist, I am sitting quietly, 'hearing' the sound of the blowhole. There is a deep thump just before the water jets into the air, and then a tickling as the water falls back to its bed. Quite cathartic. Dean explains that this is not technically a true blowhole as there is no upper opening. Rather, it is an underwater cave - the water is pushed into the cave, hits the rear wall and then is shot back out the cave entrance. Call it what you will, describe it as you must, it is still a spectacular sight.

We cruise (well, motor) further south - checking out colonies of gannets and comorents, drying their wings on rocky outcrops off the shore. Their guano is that acidic that nothing can grow where they rest, and the rock is eventually bleached to a stark white painted look. At last we are nearing the extreme end of today's journey and we can smell the next wildlife long before we can see them. While Australian Fur Seals are beautiful to look at, they positively stink - especially when they are in a colony.  And this colony are all males - and we all know what a bunch of teen and young adult boys are like when it comes to cleanliness and housekeeping! Well, these are no different. The females live further north and the boys live in this area for 9 months of the year, practising gluttony, pride and finally lust. Its a chest-beating thing. The alpha male gets the pick of the girlfriends. The more girlfriends, the greater the progeny and the survival of his genetic line. We spent the better part of 20 minutes just watching (and smelling) them. They are amazingly beautiful creatures.

Finally, the boat is turned north and we head back to the safe anchorage of Adventure Bay. We went as far south as Tasman Island, Tasman Head and The Friars - all of which sit in the souther tip of the Tasman Sea and close to the Southern Ocean. The trip back is cold and windy, and bumpy. We are travelling off-shore, riding the ridges and troughs for a 'smoother' ride - that is, not rising across them. The journey back is just short of an hour and in this time I gradually add:
* doing up my new multi-layered weather jacket
* my face mask (to protect my lips as much as I can)
* my beanie
* my gloves; and finally
* zipping my coat up OVER all the rest and my head.  I was freezing. Literally!

But what an exhilarating way to spend 3 hours and a decent chunk of money. Well worth it and I would recommend it to anyone. You can watch a video of this trip here.

So, half the day is gone. It is now 2pm and we only have today to explore the rest of the South Bruny Island. We haven't eaten since our croissant/roll this morning, so we set out  to visit the Bruny Island Premium wines, Cider and Restaurant. Luckily we arrive at 2:25pm as lunch is only served until 2:30pm, so we quickly find a table and choose from the menu. Gen selects the  Sliders and ciders - mushroom and haloumi, lamb rosemary, salmon avocado with three ciders to taste - Ginger and Apple, Blapple (Blackberry and Apple) and Cherry and Apple - her fave. I buy a bottle of 2019 unwooded Chardonnay and Pork Rillettes with warmed bread to eat with it. Both were delicious, but the star was the Bruny Honey & cinnamon crème bruleè - forest fruits, Scottish shortbread - now THAT was delicious!! Having finished our repast, and purchased some providores from their selection of ciders, jams, chutneys and smoked salmon (to have with our 'fridge' bread), we thought we would drive down and have a look at the Bruny Island Lighthouse.

In this hire car we are not allowed to drive on unsealed roads, so having set out to explore, we soon hit a gravel road and make the sad decision not to proceed. The other attratcion of interest was Inala - the Jurassic Garden. It was only a few days ago that Justine, who is house-sitting and cat-caring for us, sent us a link to this site. It was a very interesting collection of shells, fossils and bones all beautifully labelled and displayed. Outside was a very substantial garden that primarily focusses on jurassic and later period plants. There is also a very extensive collection of native and non-native plants, all grouped by family. The path meanders down the planted hill and by the time we reach the bottom, it is clear that the operators are reading to close for the day. No time to amble back up the path, so we just took shortcuts through the grassed surrounds. 

All in all, another very busy and satisfying day as we arrive back at the Hotel Bruny Lodge and our villa. We did not think to pull the curtains as we left, so the room is very warm as the west-facing glass has heated the room all afternoon! So with the door left open, the room is cooled and the first Pademelon of the night appears. We hope that it is a really clear night so we can see the amazing night sky here.

Thanks for all the well-wishes. Your love and support mean a lot to me.  See you again tomorrow folks.