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 😉😉