After both becoming a bit sick of driving we headed down to Coles Bay and Wineglass bay. We staggered to the top of the look out for Wineglass Bay which was surprisingly difficult with 600 steps but totally worth it. We wandered around the national park for a couple of days, picking spots based on their cute names, such as Friendly beaches (with unfriendly flies) and Honeymoon Bay (very rocky).

With our holiday nearly at an end we headed back to Hobart to stay somewhere slightly nicer than the pickled frog. We couldn't get into the cadbury factory - damn school holidays, but we did check out the cascade factory which rekindled my love for beer...actually my love for beer has never needed to be rekindled. And finally we wandered around Salamanca markets with every man, his dog and baby before being delayed for 2 hours by Virgin.

Will I ever fly again on time?

From there we headed out to the Tamar valley to source some of those yummy wines. After heading out in the completely wrong direction we turned the yellow canary around and were on our way…in the pouring rain. Due to the rain we skipped my desired stop to Tasmazia…I’m still heartbroken.

Tamar Valley was good, although no one told us about the tasting fees everywhere. I ended up buying some average wine out of protest for paying the tasting fee. We stayed at a cool pub in a pretty small and unexciting town called Beauty Point, however it is the home to Platypus House and Seahorse World.

We then braved the bushfires (just missing them I think) and drove out to St Helens with the plan of checking out the Bay of Fires and other assorted nearby beaches. The beaches were white and gorgeous and freezing – yes we went for a invigorating dip, just to say we did.

Upon returning to the banana, Trish opened the door and promptly let out a girly scream. A huntsman had scrambled into the door and disappeared under the steering wheel. As it was definitely Trish’s turn to drive I figured it was her problem. We immediately started arguing about who was going to drive. It went a little like this:
Me: I’ve done my driving, I drove for 6 hours yesterday
Trish: It was more like 4. I’m not driving, I hate spiders
Me: I hate spiders too. Just be an adult, the spider is not going to hurt anyone.
Trish: Well you drive then.

After some debate, I relented and decided to drive. Since I hadn’t seen the spider I figured he couldn’t be that big and wouldn’t eat much. However, I had some concerns that if he did drop on my whilst driving there was little chance that I would avoid driving off into a ditch. I moved the seat as far back as possible, positioned Trish with a rolled up newspaper in the passenger seat and proceeded to drive the 15 minutes home at 150km an hour.

We got back to our cabin incident free and the spider was not to be seen, a conveniently provided bug spray was emptied into the car. Some time later we headed into town to pick up supplies. About an hour later we returned to the car, Trish opened the door, screamed, and the spider, looking drunk, was staggering out the door. How he survived the can of spray I have no idea. Crisis averted.

Cradle Mountain was gorgeous country, the weather was rather erratic, but we were quite lucky. We stayed in these fabulous cabins with a spa next door and a fireplace that was operated by a remote!

I dragged Trish on a 10k walk around Dove Lake and up Snake Hill, the last 3ks would have been far more pleasant had they not been uphill. Dove Lake was unbelievably rewarding with fabulous views at every stop, green cool rainforest-like forests and comfortable boardwalks in most areas. Its good to know Tassie is doing something with all their national parks dollars.

Barely functioning after our 10k walk (9.5ks more than I usually walk in a day), we signed up for a wine and cheese tasting event which involved some tasty iced riesling and yummy stinky cheeses.

The journey continues

After some convincing Trish relented and we headed out to Port Arthur. Trish was a little concerned with our lack of mobile reception in Wolf creek country. After procuring some accommodation in what looked like converted shipping containers we headed out to the old and somewhat creepy convict settlement. We booked ourselves in for a ghost tour, somewhat inexplicably as neither of us had any desire to see a ghost. We didn’t see one, but the photos and stories were quite frightening and out last stop in the asylum had me wanting to make like a tree and leave.

We had an amazing dinner at a place called Mussel Boys and retired to our shipping container in the woods….alone…..

From then we took the 4 hour drive to Cradle Mountain which for some unknown reason took us 7 hours. Yes, we drove about an hour out of our way, but how does one account for the other 2 hours??

Tasmania - the arrival

Out Trip to Tassie was rather lacking in planning, however we had the foresight to book our first nights accommodation at an interestingly named hostel called the Pickled Frog. It has been a while since I’ve stayed in a hostel, and perhaps I’m getting too old and grumpy. Trish and I were rocked to sleep whilst listening to a girl snore loudly until 3:30am, which was then replaced with the beeping of a crossing signal outside our window. After finally donning a sleep mask and earplugs I fell asleep only to be awoken by glass collection morning. I awoke, took my stiff joints down from the upper bunk and attempted to quietly assemble clothing and shower implements. Upon entering the shower I immediately regretted not packing thongs, the sodden matt and wet, dirty floor were indications on impending tinea.

We joyously checked out and swore to never return. We climbed into our bright yellow, spoiler donned lancer that made us look like 18 year old boys from Campbelltown and headed up to check out the views from Mt Wellington.

Off to Tassie!

Yes, I am actually off to see some of Australia - for once! Stay tuned for exiting stories and hijinks