My
Trip to "Tazzie" My
Trip to "Tazzie"
Diary
A Narrative of My Journey
What can I say about Tasmania, except I'm moving here as fast as possible?
Day 1
We arrived Friday night after a hectic day of travel arrangements and an almost missed flight. We flew into Hobart, then rented a car and drove to Port Arthur, a good hour's drive. So yes, this is where our "driving in Australia" driving stories start. For those that have heard my harrowing tales of driving through Spain and Portugal - that was nothing compared to this.
Imagine California's Route 1 with all it's windy twists and turns. Now imagine it even narrower, with no shoulder or guard rails, only posts with reflectors on them. Also imagine that it's dusk, and you have poor night vision to begin with.
Got the picture? Good. *Now* imagine you are relearning how to drive - on the wrong side of the road going about 100 km/hr - Wheeee!
I think Greg stained himself. There are grooves in the door handles where he was clutching.
Well, he shouldn't have had me drive first, although to be fair, I suppose I should have had that eyeglass prescription updated before we left. And I did have a wee case of jet lag. But still...all in all, I think I did OK. At least till I ran over that Wombat.
The darn thing just sat there, and I couldn't slow down because Greg was yelling at me and there was another car behind us. I felt bad when it thumped underneath us, but there were already so many littering the highway I figured it was some sort of Wombat suicide pact. That made me feel better.
We finally got into Port Arthur about 6 pm, just in time to check into the room and have dinner before the evening's tour. We were lucky, we were booked into a hotel with -stairs-, that's how we knew it was a good one. (In the listing of hotels the "better" ones listed STAIRS as one of the first benefits. The cheaper ones listed SOME STAIRS. We couldn't figure out if that meant every other one was missing, or there was just no bottom half and a bunch of milk crates lying around.)
The room was...interesting - I'll know in the future colonial dinner means not very good. But the service people in this country are great - too bad they don't work for tips, they're so friendly. And when they give you a price, that's the price, no tax or anything added.
Anyway, the tour we went on was a lantern-lit walking ghost tour of the Port Arthur Penal Colony. OOOooooo, scary! It takes you through the remaining buildings and recounts all the scary stories and ghost sightings they've had to date. It was pretty neat, but I was so stressed out from the drive and jet lag that I fell asleep at most of the stops - and a few times while we were walking. We both passed on our big opportunity to take home a certificate of bravery, and headed back to the room.
It's winter here, and quite brisk, so I was glad I had long johns to sleep in.
Day 2
The next day (Sat. the 5th) we set off again for Hobart, this time with Greg driving and me clutching. Luckily I'm able to sleep through anything, so I gave in to oblivion and hoped I'd live to wake up again. (Let's just say that for the rest of the trip, neither one of us much likes how the other drives.)
In Hobart we stayed at The Lodge on Elizabeth, a romantic Victorian B&B (yeah, I know, it was with Greg, but those were the breaks). A 15 minute walk took us down to the waterfront and Salmanica Place, where every Saturday they have an open air market. I didn't buy much, I swear! Anyway, I like Taz so much I thought I'd buy all my souvenirs here instead of Australia proper - except the didjeridoo.
We wondered around some more, ate, and made our way back to the hotel a little after dark. It felt like 9 pm but it was only 5 - I think we're getting old.
Day 3
This brings us to today, by far the most spectacular. Hobart was really nice, for a city, very picturesque and friendly, but the rest of Taz is gorgeous! It's got the tall forests and coastline of Oregon, the population of Alaska, the rolling hills of the English countryside (and sheep - lots of sheep!) and to travel through all this scenery are the curves and turns of California's Route 1. It's perfect - ocean, mountains and all four seasons - wrapped up in one friendly package.
They are about two years behind the US web wise, so opportunity abounds, heh-heh.
Anyway, first we were going to go skiing, but there's no snow yet. Then we were going to go whitewater rafting, but that didn't pan out either, So we decided to do some hiking around the Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Clair region. Good call!
Words fail, it's too magnificent to describe. You'll just have to hope the pictures come out. Those of you who have seen my Alaska pictures will get a strange sense of deja vu - as did we. The cabin we stayed in was way cool - a 2 bedroom loft dealie with a wood burning stove for heat. Outside the window is a view of the forest (and Lake St. Clair) and every now and then a few wallabies will jump into view. I almost tripped on one coming up the path from my walk on the beach.
It was a nice 2-hr walk through the forest and around the lake, even though it rained and was 50F. Didn't matter - I was prepared! I had toe-warmers, long johns, waterproof, breathable pants over my jeans, a thermal top, a wool shirt, a polar fleece, and a shell jacket over all of it. I was very comfy, thank you. Quite a shock for most of you to hear from the "if it goes below 70 I freeze" girl. Maybe a cold weather home is in the cards for me yet...
Tomorrow we're either going horseback riding or hiking along a different section of the state, and eventually we'd like to get to some northern port town to overnight in.
Well, time to put another log in the stove, pour another glass of wine,and kick Greg's ass at cribbage. (For the record, I won the first game in Australia.)
Ta!
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