Penguin as only you could imagine it and Red-Beard to rescue memories

After arriving at about 8 pm last night at the Penguin Seaside Motel, and soon learning that the train we heard pass by the rear of the motel was a freight train and the only one for the night, we could relax. The room was huge with a large queen bed, a table with 6 chairs, a sitting area and a bedroom with another Queen and two single beds plus an ample kitchenette and roomy wheelchair friendly bathroom. As I still don't have a working keyboard - we guess the batteries are flat, we abandon the blog for tonight and watch a bit of Ambulance!

This morning we have arranged to meet a friend from my teen years - Bruce Harpley - for breakfast in Ulverstone, about 9 kms away. Driving in to town last night we saw the very Australian BIG PENGUIN. We will come back for a look-see after Ulverstone. But for now, we turn on Maps on my phone and set of to find a cafe called Daltons in Ulverstone. On KI (King Island as it will be abbreviated from here on) we blamed the poor maps for difficulties in finding places. Bruce had given us the address of the Dalton Cafe, but still we drive down Victoria Street and cannot see it. I turn on Street View and we see that the address displays a physiotherapist business. Am I going bonkers or what? I'm about to contact Bruce again when Gen spies it! Daltons is down the lane, behind the physiotherapist.

At least we know how where to go, now to get parking. Yippee - right ouside the door. As we get out of the car, Bruce is walking across the carpark. OMG, apart from the fact that we are both carrying many years, I would recognise him anywhere - well, I must admit I wasn't expecting a red beard, but otherwise he looks just like I remember him. We are shown to our table and order breakfast, the waiter asks Bruce about colouring his budgies by feeding them cochineal, (which goes right over my head - obviously not the brightest early in the morning). Yes, I get it know that he was having a go at the beard!! 

Our breakfasts - Coffee and poached eggs for Bruce and Coffee and Eggs Benedict for Gen and I - mine with salmon, Gen's with Ham and Avocado - are served with a smile. There are quite a few other diners and heaps of people getting a coffee on their way to work. The food is good and a lovely change from pies and egg and bacon rolls! Time flies when you are reminiscing and catching up with 40 years of life events.  We were telling him of our recent trip to KI and he said that the golfing industry on the island is huge. However, most of the players are flown over in chartered planes on a Saturday morning from Melbourne and play 18 holes before returning by charter flight to Melbourne that night and then fly back on Sunday for a second 18 holes before returning home via the charter  flight, again. You have got to be kidding me?!!

Turns out its a 45 - 55 minutes flight from Melbourne, so I guess it's feasible. Sure as sh*t means that the opportunity for re-developing that motel is definitely a goer. Anyone got a spare $2.5M they want to invest with me? Reckon we could double our money in 6-8 years! Think, golf packages, partner spa packages, REAL foodie experiences? Talk with me if you are interested! A conversation we overheard at lunch at the golf club before we left KI now makes perfect sense. The women said that they were going to stay in Melbourne shopping when the men came back the next day! 

But again, I digress (that is unless someone is interested in investing with me!)
We finished our breakfast and said our goodbyes for probably the next 40 years, although we did issue an invite should he ever be up to see friends he has in Bargara - yep, its a small world! Bruce has given us a list of a few must-sees before we leave the area and has generously given us bottle of Ryan and Pop's Honey - Bruce's bees output that he filters with the help of one of his grandsons. How lovely.

Back out in today's warm sun, we head west again, slightly back-tracking to visit Fern Glade. Gen visited here when she was in Tasmania 5 years ago and Bruce has suggested a couple of spots in particular to check. We are looking for Platypus! Its still and quiet, with few cars and just as few people. We park at the far car-park and walk along the edge of the Emu River. The path is lined with Tree Ferns that tower over both Gen and I. We walk quietly, very quietly but all we see are birds, a duck nibbling away at the water's edge and then "Mum, mum" Gen urgently whispers "Look" and there it is a platypus swimming just under the surface. A little further on, we get within 2 feet of two pademelons. Right on the edge of a major urban area!! Our morning's walk ended 500m later at the carpark area where Bruce suggested we might see platypus. But despite standing there, noiselessly for about 20 minutes, we are not rewarded with any more platypus sightings.

Now, we have collected just a few things we need to get home on this trip and have decided that we will post most home. We could just book for and pay for more luggage, but it was enough of a struggle for Gen with the luggage we bought with us without adding to it lol . We have some post bags and went through un-needed clothing and other 'stuff' this morning. So elated that we saw a platypus, we drove back into Penguin with the first three bags plus a few other parcels going direct.

The town of Penguin is home to the Big? PENGUIN! As we park the car opposite the Post Office, the Big Penguin is behind us, and along the kerbside next to us are penguin bollards - might mention that to some of our local Councillors - I'm sure Mary Poppins bollard could look cutely kitsch! We look at some of the other Penguin themed street infrastructure - bins, sets, signs while we wait our turn for a photo. There is a lady taking of photo of two other ladies and Gen asks if she would like to have a photo with them. Turns out she was a local who had just volunteered to take their photo, and offers to do the same for us. Very friendly she was - a local ambassador who had stepped out from the local VIC to give directions to other tourists. How lovely.

There are what seems like hundreds of hot-rods in Penguin today. The same volunteer tells us that there a Show and Shine on here this weekend. Would not have thought there could be so many hot rods in Tasmania - but then again, perhaps some of them came over from Melbourne! We had a milkshake, and shared a Penguin biscuit and a currant  square at the Penguin Country Bakehouse.

Leaving Burnie, we headed down the Bass Highway towards the Christmas Hill Raspberry Farm.  OMG - hang on - down that way is the Spreyton Factory! The Spreyton Cider Company makes amazing ciders, ginger beers and non-alcoholic versions. You can do a tasting - 5 ciders and their ginger beer on a paddle, so we share one. I have always liked cider and Gen likes the sweeter ones too. The winner today is the Apple Raspberry Cider - it has depth in apple and the sweet, slight tang of raspberry. You can certainly taste the raspberry - and it is a taste that we have grown very fond of over this last month! Hmm (gently looking skywards) might be another box coming home. 
Its not sold anywhere outside Tasmania and although Uncle Dans will list the basic Spreyton Cider on their wesite, it is always unavailable as explained by their bartender Markus, who now lives in Australia after leaving Italy - in the north, in the Dolomites (another truly beautiful place on this earth!)  Turns out that Spreytons use a courier to deliver their goods, so we add a few jams, brandy, relish etc - there is no limit to the weight, so long as it will fit in the box - and there is a bigger box I can use!!
In order to soak up the alcohol - it was only equivalent to one standard drink - we ordered a bowl of hot chips. They were so good! And now, we are soooo full!

The afternoon is gaining on us now and we want to get to the Raspberry Farm, so we push off again.  Finally we arrive. It must be time for afternoon tea and it is certainly time for coffee. We are shown to a sunny table and I select a raspberry crepe and Gen, Waffles with Rasberries. OMG they are so good. I kid you not, the raspberries here as a big as a thimble. Each single globule bursts under the pressure of your tooth, filling your mouth with the most intense flavour. We make yet another few purchases, including 500g of fresh raspberries for the next day or three - IF I can make them last that long.

As the afternoon shadows lengthen we decide that we need to stop stopping at every food outlet we come across (we'll have to come back to the Anvers Chocolate Factory, the Ashgrove Cheese Factory and Van Dieman's Ice Creamery - probably tomorrow. So we punch in Rosevears and head for the Hotel where we have a room booked for the next 4 nights. We head cross country through picturesque English looking fields, with the every present Cradle Mountain in the background. Arriving in the Tamar Valley, we turn left towards the Tamar River and following the sparkling sun dancing on here waters, passing by marshy patches close to the road until we reach the Rosevears Hotel. Established in 1831, there are a number of new 'pod' like units built on the hill behind the majestic building standing sentinel over her stretch of the river. The KI folk could certainly learn a lesson here!   

OMG so sick of the UAP (some mongrel named Clive or something) adverts using all the scaremongering - 85% of all mortgages will default and you will lose your home, UAP will make all superinvestments be made in Oz.  How I hope that all of us who know any smidgeon of knowledge of the mechanics of government can share that with at least one other - ignorance will be the killer in this election. And mongrels will use any scare tactic to try to get a vote. grrrrr  

Totally knackered now - I'm off to bed. Chat later.

And in came the rain and those roaring forties

So we wake his morning to a full-on storm. I mean rain, not showers with the wind behind it. In this weather it is easy to imagine how a ship's captain could not hold his vessel against the raging of mother nature. And with the seas whipped up, we have a better view of some of the rock hazards. Bigger waves are breaking off-shore on hidden dangers. Altogether very bleak. We hear the coach arrive to collect the tour group as we live in bed a few minutes longer to ward off the cold. Slowly the other rooms empty and before long, we are the last room to leave.

We have received an email from the airline saying that due to operational requirements our flight is now departing later. We are now leaving King Island at 17:25 with arrival back in Wynyard at 17:55. From there we have a half hour drive to our accommodation in Penguin. I have managed to get in touch with Bruce Harpley who lives a few miles away in Ulverstone and we are catching up for breakfast tomorrow morning en-route to Launceston. 

Gen again went into the Bakehouse for our breakfast and hooray, has managed to get me a Crayfish Pie (at $15!). It is delicious. In a soft curry sauce, which is what the Taswegians seem to put all their seafood in for pies - think fish, think prawns, think scallops (roe on) and now also think crayfish (lobster)! It had plenty of crayfish - both in big chunks and smaller pieces generously spread amongst the sauce. She bought herself another egg and bacon roll - both had been cooked to order. She enjoys her roll and I made sure I left her some of that scrumptious pie to taste!

Given the unpleasant weather today we decided to drive along the other fully sealed road on the Island. We had wanted to visit the Cultural Centre but as the main 'tourist season' (March) is done, it is now only open by appointment. 

You know, there is a huge opportunity going begging here. The motel, which is for sale, is very tired and the restaurant is under different management. Yet the coastal location is supberb overlooking the rolling sea with private access to a small rock sheltered beach. I have no idea what the sale value is, but even if it were $1M, another investment of $500K+ to revamp the rooms, restaurant and the grounds (including the access road) and you could have a great return with groups - and especially golf groups. But I digress (again) 

Naracoopa is sited on the east coast about halfway up the coast and the mid-point between Grassy and Cape Wickham where we went on our first day. 

Naracoopa reminded us of many of the sleepy coastal townships that can be found right along the East Coast of Australia. In fact, it reminds me very much of Woodgate of a few years ago. There is one street fronting the beach with most of the homes being holidays homes that are deserted at present. There is evidence of some newer building works happening - you know the time - those slip, sultry buildings in the colour of their surroundings so as not to compete with the landscape - filled with timber and glass. Personally, I can't imagine that in a few years they will remain as schmick. The timber will cop a lot of weather, as will the tin rooves like we have seen elsewhere on the island, and although I would love to be sitting in a warm house looking out through large picture windows - but honestly, keeping them clean against all that salty water would be a *itch to clean! (Gotta love our textured Kosciusko glassed windows back home - they require little cleaning!  😉)

Just "a few kilometres north", remembering the mud map as opposed to anything accurate, near Sea Elephant Bay, is supposed to be Blowhole Beach. So off we set. The road is on the map, so we are safe, albeit somewhat sandy. Gen does a great job navigating the potholes (and then we come on some Council workers doing some grading!) and when we get out to Blowhole Beach there is already one car there. Given the soft sand and the rain, it is decided that Gen will go have a look and see whether the walk is Maria-doable. She comes back in less than 10 minutes to say that if there is a blowhole, she can't find it, nor can she find any landform that would even remotely look like it could produce a spout of water of any form. By now, there are another two cars parked here - and we cross paths with another couple of people that we've seen a few times over the last two days. 

We are the second car to leave and we turn left back towards Naracoopa and not continuing on an increasingly challenging road further to Sea Elephant Bay. There is a sign advertising coffee, but like other operators, I guess they have headed for the mainland for winter - closed. So a quick nip down to the long wharf where once there was sealing prevalent, but no longer.

Turning back for Currie we opt to stay on the fully sealed road and this time not take the scenic route. Gen is now sick of gravel roads and sandy tracks - she can now say "been there, done that!" Its getting late for lunch and although we have loved the great pies from the King Island Bakehouse, we are also craving something that is not a pie by now. One of the three golf courses on the Island is next door to the motel where we stayed, so we called in there to see if we could get some lunch.

Yes, we can. It is fairly basic fare but my burger and Gen's battered fish (Gummy = shark) and chips was fresh and crisp. This restaurant is being operated by people of Indian descent - if only I could be sure that the curry on offer was not too spicy, I would have preferred to give it a go, but alas my mouth and stomach take so little heat these days.😪

We continued down to Beach which is just beyond the motel, down the next dune so to speak and found the other big industry here - the King Island Kelp Factory. 

Bull kelp is harvested from the beaches of King Island by independent contractors. At present there are only 6 licensed harvesters, who must take only from what mother nature has 'donated'. They cannot harvest from the rocks. The kelp is dried on high, hanging S shaped hooks, then racks to air dry, before being fed into wood fired kilns for dehydrating. Most of the Australian supply is shipped to Ireland for processing into Alginate Acid which is used extensively in the food and pharmaceutical industries, just to name two.

One last destination to visit before we leave this interesting destination. Located close to the airport, we visited the award winning King Island Distillery. Owned and operated and Heidi Weitjins, this was a gem of a find. They distil King Island gin, vodka, brandy and  limoncello. Gen is really taken with the Ruby Grapefruit Spirit, and thankfully they can arrange post, so we relieve them of some of their stock (hic). One gin in particular is interesting. Heidi's partner is a cray-fisher and they took a barrel of their gin and aged it at sea! It has a different taste - no doubt influenced by the cask being exposed to the salt-ladden air. The cellar door is actually their distilling plant, and as we taste and discuss each sample with Heidi, her partners are beginning to bottle the last of the Gin from that sea-aged barrel! We drove right past it at first, following google maps which takes you beyond it. The trick is to follow the signs, even if it doesn't look like a cellar door! More evidence of the poor maps.

At the Airport, we leave the car, with keys in the ignition, as per instructions, and head into the terminal. We are early by about 2 hours, but really, there is little else to see given the remaining time. There are only 9 people booked on the plane, so again they have allocated the back row to us. BUT, there are about 40-50 people at the airport terminal. We see two jets - a Sharp Airlines and a REX plane plus a number of smaller planes. Turns out, we watch 4 other planes leave before ours lands, disgourging another tour group, and is ready for departure. Our plan is flying to Launceston via Wynyard.

Gen is very very tense - it is very cloudy and she is apprehensive about possible turbulence. One belted in, she grabs the seatbelt from the seat between us and wraps it tightly around her hand. I tell her that the trick is to try not to get too tensed up and suggest that she hold my hand instead. "But I don't want to hurt you" she says. You won't I tell her. The take-off was a little bumpy, but it was surprisingly smooth thereafter. I keep asking her if she can see land in an effort to keep her mind off her fear and she visibly relaxes. Finally we see land and can identify The Nut at Stanley and Table Cape just a little further east before we touch down.

So, King Island done and dusted. I am glad we went, but it was nothing like what we were expecting. All I can say is that the marketeers have done a fabulous job. For the Island itself, it needs some major investment and renewal.

Back in the car, or as Gen 'lovingly' refers to it, the POS, having paid the ridiculous sum of $12 for 3 days parking, we head back through Burnie and further east to our overnight stop in Penguin. The motel is right on the main road, with a rail line plus freight train behind us. The unit is HUGE and well set-out and supplied for someone with mobility challenges.

Those Roaring Forties - famed in this region

So the morning dawns wet and windy. Roaring forties is isn't but it is more blustery than yesterday. The whitecaps are dancing in the bay in front of our unit. And the exposed front of the motel units are being showered with salt-laden air blown in from the water over the low bushes that have also succumbed to the stiff breeze. Certainly explains the rusting on outdoor furniture and window and door frames.

The motel has a tired, defeated air. Planter boxes outside each room have plants that are clinging stubbornly to life. Just. The rooms are clean, we have met the cleaner both days - she is pleasant and seems efficient, but everything is being done on a tight budget. The motel has a For Sale sign, but any buyer will be knocking down the dollars for sure. The 'accessible' room that we have been allocated is nothing of the sort. There has been a token effort - handrails have been added to the toilet and shower but the facilities themselves are not accessible - it would meet any standard inspection.

It has a comfortable bed, but when you see all the schmick advertising for King Island this is not what you expect.

In fact, King Island has not been anything like what we expected. There is beauty here, a rugged defiant beauty. The land is under considerable strain. When we tell people we are from Queensland, they beg us to send the rain this way. The land is in drought and looks like it has been for some time. Its yellow and dry and the incessant wind is eroding areas where uncounted heads of cattle have walked the same path one after another time after time. There are not a lot of large trees, there are stands of paper-barks and stringy mulga with the odd white gums that shed their shards so that they drape on the bushy undergrowth. When we drive through wooded areas there is enough ti-tree that you can smell it on the air.

Gen goes down to the Bakery to buy Egg and Bacon Rolls for breakfast and adds cheddar to each and avocado to hers. They are delicious. Freshly made on lovely soft long rolls with crusty semolina tops. They are too big for me to finish, but only because of the generosity of the fillings. And the coffee is good. And strong. Mmmm.

We have decided to take a look at the south of the island today. We head out towards Grassy (grassy what, afterall, it is usually an adjective) and take a detour to see the Calcified Forest. Remembering what we were told by the car rental agent, if its on the map, its okay. So we confidently set down the gravel road. Now, the same rental agent also told us that the map is not accurate. As we lose GPS on Gen's phone, we also learnt that this statement is very very true. Distances are approximations only and roads are not marked accurately - like listed once when there are two entrqances, like distances not being anywhere near correct - kind of helps to explain why so many ships hit the rocks - the directions are shite, and have been so for hundreds of years! But the outcome of not being where you think you are is that you are more likely to have an adventure!

We head off on what we think is Seal Rocks Road, and later turned out it was Seal River Road. The road (read bush track) gets sandy. Gen tenses up and I tell her to breathe. Let the car find its own way. We finally end up at a locked gate and the track abruptly stops. So we turn around and go back to the junction, only then realising that we mis-read the sign and have travelled down Seal River Road, not Seal Rocks Road. We continue on what is now the correct road, gravel but much better than the bush track we have just left. We work out that we have been down to the Colliers Swamp Conservation Area, getting as far as Big Lake. Our plan had been to visit the Calcified Forest just near Seal Roacks. Nearing the correct site, we see a new(ish) Parks and Wildlife sign announcing that we have indeed arrived at the Calcified Forest! Well, we have arrived at the carpark.

As I mentioned earlier, the map is at best a mud map, the signs are just as contradictory!  One sign says 630m each way and the other says 1.5 km return. While my maths might have once been questionable, even can calculate that the two figures differ by 240m. Not a big deal normally, but to me it most definitely IS a big deal. I had said to Gen this morning that I would have a go at walking the track - it is graded a 2 - easy, but not wheelchair friendly. Just after leaving the carpark we are met with the first of the uphill sections. Now, remember that the base landform here is one of dunes. And dunes travel (might explain the dicsrepancy in the length) but these are well stabilised dunes with grasses, mulga, ti-tree and the odd gum. Up hill, down hill we walk. And again, and again. In steeper parts, the path has been compacted with light gravel and edging boards, but overall it is very sandy. We have been walking for about 30 minutes with Gen leading the way and pausing every 40 - 50m to turn back and check that I am still following. Its about now that my legs are heading for jelly, as I said, an easy walk compounded by the sand. We see yet another hill so Gen suggests that I wait a minute while she pushes forward to see how much further it is. she is back quickly to announce tht the walk ends just over the next hill BUT it ends at a 100m walk across loose sand before you reach a timber viewing platform. With timber steps that begin with a large step from soft sand. Disappointed was not the word either of us use. There is now way that I can do this safely. So Gen pushes on to climb the platform and get some photos, while I turn to walk slowly back to the car. Now, natue is a strange beast - there is a small swallow on the path ahead of me. We chirp away together as I plod on. About 30m ahead, it hops ahead of me, stopping frequently to make sure I'm still with him. My own light avian guide!

I get to the car about 4 minutes before Gen and am happy to stop, leaning against the dusty car to catch my breath. Too bad I didn't think to get one of the bananas or the water we are carrying from Gen before we parted! She's back before I know it and we both have a well-earned drink, draining the water-bottle dry. Sitting back in the car, we eat our bananas and are set to leave when another car arrives. Out hops a lady who takes a pack out. Booted up, pack on her back, I am sure that she was better suited to take that walk and even if it was a 1.5km return walk, it probably only felt like 1260m to her! Still I'm proud of myself. I would have walked just over a kilometre - the best I've done in a long time and even a low-graded walk, I can't help but think that if an anthropologist were to walk that path today, they would probably scratch their head and at our tracks (how do you explain a perfectly round small indent alongside my footprint?!

We still haven't reached Grassy (grassy what??) so decide to give Surprise Bay where another boat was wrecked. Back to Pearshape - yes, that is the name of a locality here -settlers obviously had a sense of humour - can't believe that they have named an area Snodgrass - a favourite Goon character of Michaels! We get to Grassy - the second largest settlement on the Island and is laid out in a more ordered grid pattern. Still very tired looking, there is evidence of some newer construction. Lord knows what it would cost to build over here- all construction materials would need to be freighted in by barge. But for the most, it is simple weatherboard construction which weathers poorly really - it is whited-out, an outcome of inhospitable weather. The most modern building here apart from one or two swanky new-come homes, is the hospital.

Right along this coast there are countless shipwrecks. And its easy to see why. The Island itself might be sandy, but it is completely enclosed by rocky outcrops and platforms. There is another lighthouse, the main port that had been used until the 1990s to ship scheelite mined just above the port. This is a mineral used in the making of tungestan and the company will have made some tidy $ during its operation, but they have done a very poor effort to rehablilitate the land. At the point beyond the port, which is now used to live-ship beef cattle (We see one laden trailer being shipped to the wharf area) there is a Penguin colony. As it is the middle of the day, we don't bother going all the way down to it as they are nocturnal and so will only be seen at night. We want to visit the Historical Museum at Currie that is only open and manned by volunteers every second day, so today it is. It is open between 2 and 4, and its almost 2pm now.

We follow the main road back and ignore Siri when she wants us to take the scenic route. There are lots of wildlife for us to encounter on the way back, all of which like to use the roads, perhaps because it warms up during the day. We dodge wallabies, pademelons, Cape Barren Geese, domestic turkeys (gone wild) farmed geese and a myriad of birds - turn out that the Island is a bird haven with a number of hides strategically located at various sites across the island - Cecile would love it! We see eagles, hawks, thousands of finces, and of swallows, magpies on steroids, butcher birds and more black birds than there are people on the Island. We even encounter a small herd of Black Angus cattle on the road and patiently need to wait for them to decide which way they will scamper.

Like the rest of Australia, roadworks rule the activity here - there are a number of projects being funded with federal government funding displaying the all familiar signage that I know from work. And with that construction we also see a tree-feling crew - god knows why, the trees are already well back from the narrow roads.  As Gen says, "why are they knocking down our CO2 filters? Lots of newly sealed roads with loose stones. Gen drives like a pro!

We well and truly get our laugh for the day when Gen pulls alongside a gaggle of geese, oh hang on, it was a rafter of turkeys and we spend a few, minutes gobble gobbling back and forward with then. The rooster is becoming quite indignant, probably at our atrocious pronunciation, so we head off laughing before he thinks to attack us!

Finally we arrive back at Currie. We want to have a look at the King Island Museum which is manned by volunteers and only open every other day. Turns out today is the only day it will be open while we are here. It's on the edge of town just below yet another lighthouse. It's only when you get up to lighthouse levels that you can get a true appreciation for the treachery of the rocks. Close to the shore there are a myriad of rock ledges and platforms, and just past them, there are rocky outcrops where the waves break. Makes for testing photos, but I can only imagine how difficult it would be to navigate.

Turns out, the museum is the former Lighthouse Keepers house. At 8 rooms, it was definately the most substantial building in the town. It has been built to weather the weather! The walls are about a foot thick and made of sandstone. The steps up into each room is large and the floorboards are wide original timbers. The museum has one volunteer on duty.  She tells us that she contacted her friend on her way in telling her that town didn't seem busy so there was no need for her to come in as well! Turns out she was wrong and so she was kept very busy - there three other groups there at the same time as us. She was a wealth of local knowledge and passionate about the island and its people. Each room has been develop around a theme. Is it obvious that this museum has had the support of a professional catalogue service. The exhibits are well displayed and relate well to the theme of the room. Gen isn't really a museum kind of person, but here she finds enough to keep her busy while I drink in family histories and even read up a bit on some of the shipwrecks. The volunteer was saying that up until 1976 anyone could salvage from shipwrecks, but that after that it was banned. One of the visitors commented that she saw evidence of someone with a metal detector on one of the beaches this morning.

I was asking the volunteer (Val) whether there had been a resurgence of population in town, based on the ABS statistics that I read this morning. She was delighted to tell me that there had been a number of younger families with ties to the history of the Island returning, bringing much needed children - so much so that an extra teacher has been sent to the school. We have seen much evidence of young ones, but it is still the school term, so I guess they are inside mostly on weekdays.

We have booked accommodation in for dinner tonight at Boomerang By The Sea- the motel where we are staying - by all a counts it is a good restaurant and at the time of booking we see that it is operated by different people. After our visit to the museum we had gone back to our unit and I had had a sleep - that walk had done me in today!

We hear cars arrive and when we open the door just before 7 to walk around to the restaurant, the car park is full.

Up some unfriendly steps into the restaurant which is not quite full, but definitely doing a good trade. We are seated near a large picture window that in the long summer days (and with the added benefit of daylight saving a mere week ago) would have afforded a stunning view. Tonight all we see is black as the sun had set hours ago. The menu is definitely more upmarket than the pub last night but I am disappointed that there is so little seafood on offer. A friend Prue sends a message to make sure we try the King Crab - oh, if only that was a choice.

There is a tour group of 8 people in and they are all served a half crayfish each - it must have been prearranged as it is not on the menu 😳. 

We select a fried Camembert with fig and walnut jam to share as a starter, served with foccacia. Not what we expect, but much lighter and to be honest, nicer. Gen is thrilled that they have a good selection of meat choices and settles for Aged King Island Scotch Fillet, cooked blue and served with confit local potatoes, baby carrots and brocollini. I had the Prawn and Crab Papardelle - hold the chilli. It to was cooked to perfection, although a very big serve with 8 large prawns still succulent and quite a bit of Crab broken through the dish. Our preferred King Island chesse plate was sold out (what the?!) so we chose a creme brulee and a Sundae. Hard to stuff those up. Port arrived, but coffee didn't. Not quite what we expected. We both got the feeling that the main tourism market is the golfer these days - overhearing the partners of the chest-bumping golfers, we get the impression that they feel likewise.

Back to our room, down those steps (our waiter was nice enough to offer a hand) and I begin the blog. Internet coverage drops out well before I am finished so I go to bed frustrated to have lost an hours worth of wit. 😞 😞

King Island - let the food porn commence . . .

We left the Leisure Ville Holiday Centre nice and early to make sure we were at the airport with plenty of time to load the wheelchair and me.

It is quiet as we leave the accommodation and the light still early. Nothing moves quickly here and we follow a car until the town centre turnoff at about 40 kph. But the airport is only 5 minutes from the Park so we have left plenty of time. Still took a wrong turn - its a little frustrating how long it takes the GPS to catch up with your real-time location. Gosh, talk about first world problems!

The airport is fractionally smaller than Hervey Bay. Yet is it welcoming, friendly and efficient. The first real surprise is the cost of parking - first couple of hours free then $2 per hour. For longer periods, the price drops dramatically. 3 days or part thereof is going to cost us the princely sum of $12! The next surprise was that at 8am the coffee shop opened and the regular travellers, complete with business suits and laptops all queue for their regular. 

There are two planes on the tarmac. A Sharp Airlines Metroliner that is our plane for King Island and a Rex Airlines plane. I guess it is heading for either Hobart or perhaps Melbourne. They advise us that they will board us first before other passengers. I took one look at the steps up into the plane - there was no way I could manage them, and there was no guide rail, rather just a rope on either side, We book the wheelchair on as luggage - Sharp have one to take me out to the plane and once there they wheel out a manual lift which I walk on to and they manually crank me up. It feels like I am going to be higher than the plane itself! Once at my regal height, the 'lift' is wheeled the remaining 6 feet to the plane and once the lip is inside the plane, it is lowered so that there is no gap for me to trip on. "Mind your head ma'am" I am advised as a set of hands guides me from behind and another pair welcomes me in to the plane. 

We were surprised to see the plane already half-filled. Wow, this must be the plane from Launceston. It carries a total OF 15 passengers and two pilots. Configuration of seven rows of one seat on either side of the aisle plus one row of three at the very rear, adjacent to the divider from the freight half of the plane. Gen and I have two seats 7B and 7C in that back row. We assume that there is no-one in 7A and have to make a mad scramble when a lady, obviously a regular passenger walks down. She insists that she is fine to sit in the centre seat, but thankfully for us (and her) the co-pilot suggests that we would all be more comfortable if she moved to the other single spare seat on the plane. Without request, he brings a seatbelt extender and says that he didn't want Gen to feel like she was being strangled for the entire flight! 

After a short safety briefing which entailed an explanation on how to fit a life vest, and how to plug in to the oxygen supply if advised - none of this masks dropping from the bulkhead. There are quiet giggles when I ask if the life vests are all new "Never used" was his quick reply! The taxi out to the runway perimeter seems to take forever. Gen is not the best of fliers and this plane will be the smallest either of us have flown in. She tenses, eyes shut and fists tightly clenched as we roar down the runway and lift into the blue yonder. Today however, it is the white yonder, not blue as there is almost 8/8 cloud cover. Disappointing as I was hoping to get some nice photos of the Tasmanian coast as we flew over, and then of King Island on our approach. The cloud is slowly peeling back from the coast as the rest of the area around Wynyard comes to life. They cling on lingering in valleys. 

We reach cruising altitude not too far from Wynyard and from then on, we have a blanket of rolling white below us. The clouds look and behave much like waves with very distinct peaks and troughs. They look snug and cuddly. The light is short - 30 minutes, so its almost a case of as soon as we reach cruising altitude, we are beginning our descent! Gen again gets very tense as we come down through the cloud layer - this is the one bumpy bit on the flight. 

I am not sure what I was expecting King Island to look like, but it wasn't this. The land is flatter than I imagine - I mean there are hills, but looking from above, it is clear to me that these are stabilised dunes. There are a million small lakes/ponds/dams. And everything is so dry. The landscape is shades of yellow and light green as opposed to the lush green palette that I had been expecting. Before long, we have touched down and are taxiing to the gate. Gen and I wait on board while all the other passengers alight and then Gen walks ahead of me to the plane door. She alights and I am left at the top of the steps. A lift is being wheeled out - this one motor driven as opposed to the one in Wynyard. Once it is aligned with the door again I step onto it and they lower it ever so gently. I get the feeling that this is not used too often! I am happy to help them all hone their skills 😉. Seeing my wheelchair being unloaded, Gen suggests that we just use ours. Off we head for the terminal, Gen pushing me, me holding the ctutches, Gen also wheeling our carry-on luggage that had been booked as freight and the co-pilot wheeling the lift.

We are back in the land of tourism appreciation. "You are very welcome" is the catchphrase that we are greeted with at every point again. The young lady at the hire car desk at the airport is cheerful and confident. She explains the rules - if the road isn't marked on the map, then the insurance won't cover it. Unsealed roads are fine. so long as it is marked on the map! There is a network of sealed roads and about twice as many unsealed!

King Island is not large at a mere 1,098 sq. kms. But it is the largest island in the New Year Group and the second largest in Bass Strait, between northern Tasmania and southern Victoria. There are three main towns - centrally located Currie (the largest and centre of the Island's administration), Grassy in the south and Pegarah on the east coastline. Once we have the car organised, we decide to drive into Currie, 9kms from the airport to have some brunch. The King Island Bakehouse is renowned, so its here we head.

Gen is ecstatic. Our hire care is a Nissan X-Trail. She sits higher than in the Lancer. While the inside capacity is the same, just the fact that it has a bit more 'grunt' makes her happy. I'm pleased for her! King Island has more than its per sq. km allocation of things to see and do. And that first stop for us is the Bakehouse. They are known throughout Tasmania  for their pies. We are standing looking at their menu board when the attendant asks what we want. "Eeny, meeny, miny, mo" was my first reply that got a giggle. I really want to try their crayfish pie before we leave here, but fear that it will be too rich at this time of the day. So we settle for plain beef pies, a mini pecan tart and a slice of (sublime) honey cinnamon roulade. Plus a coffee each. we sit inside, out of the wind and slowly savour those morsels of local goodness.

Hunger dealt with we decide to drive north toward Cape Wickham. We start out on the sealed road, but its not too long before "Ooh, that sounds interesting" gets the better of me and we head onto gravel roads. We head for Quarantine Bay where there are the wrecks of four ships in the area. We travel through rolling dunes, miles and miles and miles of them. We see large herds of hereford and black angus bulls. Hundreds to the hectare, literally. I can't believe the load per hectare. It is maybe 100% more than I have ever seen before. The birdlife is amazing. There are flocks of paired Cape Barron Geese, more blackbirds than anywhere else - and they are HUGE. Then there are the domesticated geese being farmed, pheasants that take flight as we pass them. Millions of tiny wrens and swallows flock together in murmurations sweeping through the sky all around us. We saw a solitary eagle soaring on the thermals before diving to some prey we could not see. There was a peacock and two peahens dashing into the briar, turkeys being fatted and the ever-present seagulls - the common white ones as well as the brown Pacific gulls. Yes, King Island is a bird haven. There are a number of hides across the island and April is devoted to a birdwatching and monitoring program.

Moving on we are still driving north - its not far, but the roads need to be driven carefully and slowly. We pass the King Island Dairy, home to the wonderful King Island Cheeses, and we vow to have lunch here on our return trip. Finally we reach Cape Wickham and the Cape Wickham Lighthouse, home to Australia's tallest lighthouse, built in 1861 and then automated in the 1920s. It sends its light far out into the inky depths to the west of Tasmania and was built in response to the numerous ships that had crashed into the rocks of King Island. Initially it caused further sinkings when captains mistook the lighthouse for one on the southern point of Victoria and then turning south and sailing straight into treacherous rocks. Gen takes a walk along the beach and we sit for half an hour, just taking it all in.

Our hunger gets the better of us and we turn south back to the King Island Dairy. The cheese tasting and history building is quiet with only one other couple there. We opt for the cheese tasting - a sample of six of their cheeses: Three Rivers Triple Cream Brie, Victoria Cove Smoked Camembert,  Lighthouse Blue Brie, Endeavour Gorgonzola Style Blue, Surprise Bay Cheddar and Stokes Point Smoked Cheddar. I discovered that I do like (good) blue cheese and Gen is finally developing a palate for cheese (yay!). We also had a Baked Brie with walnuts, thyme and local (manuka) honey. Oh it was so good. we bought some souvenirs and have sent some cheese home. We will host a cheese tasting when we get home - better let us know if you want an invitation! In order to get them home, we rush back to Currie so that we can make the post. Our parcel will be kept refrigerated until it leaves the Island! Guess we aren't the first to do this.

The afternoon is drawing to a close, so we head to check in to our accommodation. Boomerang By the Sea. Set on the edge of a cliff with views out over a rocky cove we hold high hopes. Not fully dashed, but this property is very quiet and looks very tired. There are three rooms being checked in today - we know this because there is a sign on the reception door with our names and room numbers, and the advice that keys are in the doors! Talk about trusting! However, we know that there is at least one policeman on the Island because he was eating his morning snack at the same time as us in the bakery this morning - and its not easy to flee the island!! Still, the room is clean and the bathroom is accessible. Turns out Monday night is everyone's night off with the exception of Wild Harvest - the paddock to plate restaurant in Grassy. We phone expectantly, but they are booked out all month. So we head down to the King Island Hotel for dinner tonight. Very pub food, my Schnitzel was tasty with herbs and cheese in the crumb and Gen's Eye Fillet was cooked to perfection - blue but not leaking blood! She was happy. She was going to have vegetables instead of the house salad but at an extra $6 she decided no. Its easy to understand, we saw potatoes at $5.8/kg, mandarins at $15/kg and capsicum was $16.6/kg. Turns out, vegetables are at a premium here!

Day 1 of 3 done, we are tired and heading for bed. Tomorrow we will head to the south to Grassy and a Calcified Forest. Sleep well.