Aus + NZ: The longest blog post in the Southern Hemisphere!
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Throughout our trip we’ve heard about endless things that are the largest of their kind in the Southern Hemisphere. The largest suspension bridge (in the Southern Hemisphere)? Traversed it. The longest pedestrian bridge (in the Southern Hemisphere)? Crossed it. The longest single span chairlift (in the Southern Hemisphere)? Sat along it. The largest fish market (in the Southern Hemisphere)? Smelt it. But all of these things pale in comparison to what we experienced our first night in Tasmania.
We booked our flight to Hobart and we’d figure the rest out. We’d done it so far, we’d do it now. Right? Well, there was one problem, the largest wooden boat festival (in the Southern Hemisphere) was set to start the day we land. So what, we thought, it’s a boat festival. Well, this festival only happens every 2 years and attracts upwards of 70,000 attendees. So there were effectively no hotels within an hour of Hobart. Through the magic of the internet I grabbed the last room a few towns over. Only problem is their reception closed at midnight, and our 10pm flight was delayed 3 hours and we arrived at 1:30am. To make a long story short, the Avis rental person gave us a “hot tip” on which nearby beach we could sleep by. We drove to the beach, created a make-shift-car-tent, broke out the sleep masks, and went to “bed”. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. The next morning, the car smelt of “sleep”, and we brushed our teeth in the airport bathroom, our Tasmania tour has begun!
So, in the spirit of everything that is apparently the “largest” in the Southern Hemisphere, and because I’m really behind in updating the blog, I present to you, the longest blog post (in the Southern Hemisphere).
Welcome to Hobart, home of the Salamanca market. This is definitely one of the busiest markets we have come across. We tramp up and down the aisles sampling the goods, including craft gin (we’ll be bringing some home for you!), and being inspired by all the local art. Oh, and we also checked out the aforementioned Wooden Boat Festival (it was actually pretty cool!). Hotels were sold out throughout the weekend, so we changed our plans in hopes of visiting Hobart on a more normal day and took off. Our sentence at Port Arthur Punishment Centre was about to begin.
Tasmania is covered in prisons and most old things were built by prisoners. Often the prisons are built in quite harsh environments and surroundings, to discourage escape, and enhance the punishment. Port Arthur was deemed the worst place to be and was reserved only for repeat offenders (the youngest prisoner was a 9-year-old who had 18 previous offenses). That being said, I’d vote Maria Island as the most desolate prison – but more on this after some photos.
So, Port Arthur was cool, and we survived after our ghostly encounters and a run in with Australia’s most venemous snake. So we thought we’d reward ourselves by, you guessed it, checking out another prison. Onwards to Maria Island, henceforth known as Windburn Island. Here you’ll find Arlington (an old penal colony), the Painted and Fossil Cliffs, and the cutest featureless bears in existence, Wombats. We opted for a mere day trip as the only accommodation on the island is a prison with cots, and no electricity or plumbing. We explored the island for the day and saw many awesome things.
Then we stumbled upon the Maria airstrip on our way back to the dock. I have never experienced wind in abundance like what we were exposed to. We barely escaped with our ears into a barn with a Wombat! We grabbed the last ferry back for the night and headed north for Bicheno (which we affectionately called “bitch-eno”) for our bunk bed hostel – have we mentioned that accommodations in Tasmania are quite limited? The traveler working reception was super friendly, almost a little too friendly, but we took her advice and ended up at the keno pub for dinner, took in the lovely view, and chose our own bunk beds in prep for our day of exploration of Freycinet National Park.
The next day was the Bay of Fires and Glamping (woot!). The Bay of Fires is known for spectacularly red and orange rocks along the waters edge, it’s truly stunning. The area was appropriately named after the many fires seen along the shore by aboriginals when the British settlers arrived. There is a brief and brutal history of aboriginals that I imagine is similar to Canada’s history, I won’t bore you with the details other than to say that Mr Batman is not the same as the Adam West character, and he’s not to be trusted! On to more pleasant things, like gallivanting, gulping wine and glamping (I have literally never been so excited to camp in my life!)
It’s been Miranda’s goal to be InstaFamous. She’s been perfecting her pose at various sites along our trip. But today, today is her chance at perfection. It’s a bit of a diversion, but today she can pose in a Lavender field, lush and purple. This is where InstaDreams are made, or shattered. After much planning on hair style, makeup colour and dress choices, we arrive. Fields of purple green, the harvest happened the week before and the only purple remaining is a bench! We opt for Lavender ice cream (which was white! Boo!) and some photos. Oh well, there’s always next year!
Continuing along our journey, we visit some Launceston-area wineries and a “German-town”. Our mobile liquor cabinet is becoming difficult to transport, but is entirely delicious and we’re looking forward to sharing it back home! We end our day in Launceston on a Friday night! The beer bar is hopping, the place with live entertainment is loud, what a street! Launceston is much smaller (and sleepier than we’d anticipated). The following morning we stock up on supplies for our upcoming farmstay and head out for Roland!
The small town of Railton is on our route, and a local eccentric craft brewer convinced us to pay his shed a visit, so we stopped in, went topiary-spotting, and got some of my new favourite fruits’ jam on our way to the farm.
Of the numerous farms we’ve stayed on, this one is the most farmy. There are free-range cows, chickens, sheep, Tassie birds (that we call the Desperate Housewives), and a Platypus! On our quest for wildlife, Platypus were my most sought after acquisition. This trip is turning into Pokémon, but IRL, gotta collect them all! To get to the Platypus pond we had to traverse multiple cattle paddocks, all the while avoiding the feces along the path, and the intense staring from every animal we passed. But it was entirely worth the trek, with Mt Roland in the background, and Penelope in her pond in the foreground, we could spend hours watching her, swim, dive, and swim some more. I did. She cool.
So we actually didn’t come out this way just for a Platypus. We came here to see Miranda tower over the Village of Lower Crackpot. No, ok, we came here to walk all over Cradle Mountain. And so we did.
After leaving Penelope behind (after a final morning viewing), we headed for Bonorong, which Miranda already mentioned. We arrived in time for the last public tour of the day and I was handed kangaroo food (YAY!). I proceeded to feed many Kangaroos, and stare at many other local animals, they were mostly gracious enough to stare back. Then, the private began after all the plebs were escorted out. It was me, and Miranda and the animals, it was bliss – until a travel writer showed up. She spent the majority of the tour writing down info she could have learned online, taking photos literally in the faces of everything she could, generally getting in the way, and talking at lengths about New Norfolk. It’s like she’d never heard of Kangaroos before. But I wouldn’t be deterred and spent every minute sopping up as much animal time as I could. It was pretty spesh.
Next was a brief, high, and very windy visit to Mount Wellington, followed by a couple days on Bruny Island. Mount Wellington was almost as windy as Maria Island, except that it was at the top of a mountain with awesome views.
Bruny was touted as the flavour trail of Tasmania. Craft Whiskey, wine, beer, chocolate, honey, cheese, oysters, and berries could all be found on this island. The only issues were A) there was literally one of each of these scattered over the island, and B) there was effectively nothing else on the island except for these 7 businesses. So we visited each place over the two days we’d committed to staying, went White Wallaby spotting, saw a penguin rookery, saw a lighthouse (as one does), and did a few walks.
Finally, our Tasmanian road trip was coming full circle as we entered Hobart for the third, and final time (we drove through it en route to Bruny). We returned in time for a visit to North Hobart (and a rooftop movie), a day at MONA (Museum of Old and New Art) where I slept with my eyes open and had an out of body experience, and did another run at the Salamanca Market where we successfully refilled our mobile liquor cabinet.
There was only one Tasmanian dream yet to be realized. Since before we left Canada, Miranda has been talking about the most historically significant Australian site, Richmond, the resting place of the oldest bridge in Australia. She’s mentioned it a few times throughout our trip, and as we circled Hobart, she increasingly hinted at visiting the bridge, inquiring about whether or not we’d be near Richmond. The night before we left Tasmania, her curiosity peaked as I heard the words “Richmond” and “Bridge” in her sleep. Ok I’m mostly kidding. But luck would have it that we had time to kill and so Miranda got her wish.
So that’s Tasmania. And if you’re still reading, congrats, the longest blog post (in the Southern Hemisphere), you’ve now read it!
It feels weird to know that our next stop is our last, Sydney. T-minus 6 nights, and we’re back in Toronto. Can’t say I’m looking forward to snow and cold, but I am looking forward to our house, our dog, our family, our friends, and of course, a proper haircut, my beard is starting to take over my face.
Until next time!
