Susie and Nick's month in Tasmania

Exploring the MAP OF TASSIE

By Susie Underwood

Did I tell you Nick and I have retired? Well, as we now have so much time on our hands, we decided to trek across the country to Tassie for a proper look around and to spend Christmas with sundry east-coast-dwelling rellies.

First taste of the rugged Tassie landscape southwest of Sheffield.

After the long drag across the Nullarbor, we 'camped' under the high transmission power lines at a caravan park in Melbourne for a couple of nights to catch up with family and do a spot of shopping before hopping on the night ferry to Devonport. It was exciting lining up with hundreds of other travellers and freight trucks for our turn to drive into the guts of the Spirit of Tasmania. It was like driving into a multi-level car park. I couldn't believe how many cars and trucks were packed in. They certainly have the process down pat and in no time we were parked up and mounting the stairs to the fun areas of the ferry - bistros, bars and even a couple of cinemas. It was very impressive and before long we were fed, watered and watching the fairy lights of Melbourne fade on the horizon. We wedged ourselves into our tiny little cabin for the night and next morning were disgorged efficiently onto the streets of Devonport (not Davenport, that's a couch) for an appointment with an auto electrician. We had some trouble with the speedo and wipers on the way over, which Nick will elaborate on later. Suffice to say I'm rolling my eyes as I write this. Several hundred dollars later, we were on our way to Cradle Mountain after a short stop to stock up on thermals. I know, I know, Tassie is a cold place, but this was just

Out of adversity ... we lost a day getting the brakes done but landed a perfect one-day-out-of-ten at Cradle Mountain.

ridiculous. It was practically snowing! The Tasmanian countryside reminds me very much of New Zealand - very green, very beautiful and mostly perpendicular. We stopped in at Sheffield to stock up on comestibles and have a look around and were blown away by how friendly everyone was, one woman even crossing the street to introduce herself and say hello. After spending a delightful hour or so in Sheffield checking out the murals and having a cuppa, we continued on up (and up) towards Cradle Mountain. Alas, we were not to reach our destination - on one of the many steep and winding descents, our back brakes started screeching and an ominous smell of hot metal infiltrated the cab. By the time we inched our way to the bottom of that particular slope I was screeching nearly as loudly as the brakes and poor Nick was nearly as hot and bothered as the rotors. We motored into Ulverstone late in the day for an unscheduled stop over at a delightful little RV park called the Blue Wren while the very friendly and efficient Gordon from Bakers AC and Mechanical re-shoed the cruiser. Next morning we retraced our path, this time making it up to Cradle Mountain without incident. After booking ourselves into the camp ground, we set off for Dove Lake. My first big ticket sighting was a wombat grazing beside the road. I've never seen one in the wild (well not a live one) and I was tickled pink to actually spot one. Dove Lake is a place of unsurpassed beauty. It's like walking around in a post card. We were particularly lucky with the weather - we had struck the one day in ten with a cloudless sky and bright sunshine. With the snow melting up high, the mountain sides were glittering with waterfalls and the lake itself was just breath-taking. It took us three hours to circuit the lake and it was worth every minute - except for the last 30 minutes when I was making a beeline for the ladies - all that running water! We had a great night there entertained by Fatso the Porky Pademelon before bailing out next morning to visit the Tasmanian Devil Sanctuary. Here they are building an insurance population of healthy disease-free Devils with a view to reintroducing them into the wild when a cure for the Devil Facial Tumour disease is found. From the heights and wild beauty of Cradle Mountain it was back down to earth with a thud. Our visit to the auto electrician in Devonport had proved unsuccessful and we were heading to Burnie to source

Our folding bikes got us around nicely without having to break camp.

another auto electrician in a bid to have our wipers and speedo fixed. The one place in Australia where you cannot function for long without windscreen wipers is Tasmania and as the weather had closed in after our sunshiny day on the mountain, the wiper issue was becoming rather urgent. Well, what can I say about Burnie? Not a lot as it happens, but we did literally run into a certain yellow-scarved politician as she popped out of her electoral office. We were resigning ourselves to spending the night in Burnie when the call came through from the auto electrician that they had found and fixed our problem. After emptying the wallet once again, we decamped for points west, arriving in Stanley late in the afternoon and booking ourselves into their charming caravan park. Now I'm not usually one to sing the praises of caravan parks. I do prefer the wide open spaces and a bit of P&Q, but this place was quite lovely. Our site was surrounded by high hedges and the ablution block provided us with clean shower mats every day which was a lovely homely touch. We were woken in the night by unholy screeching from under the hedges, to be informed the next day that it was penguins coming home to roost after a night's fishing. We never spotted any of the elusive birds, but jeez they were noisy. Stanley is a lovely little town. We unloaded our folding bikes the next morning and set off to explore the place. The weather continued to be unpleasant and very windy and there was no way Nick was going to get me into the chair lift to get up to the Nut, however we did wind our way up the hill to Highfield where we spent a couple of hours wandering around the house and grounds. From Stanley it was on to Strahan in the pouring rain (wipers obediently clearing our windscreen) - our route taking us along a dirt road through the Pieman Reserve. I can't really report much on what we saw. It was foggy and rainy, which in itself made for a memorable drive, and quite atmospheric and spooky, but whether it was mountains or dark clouds we saw I couldn't tell you. We stopped briefly in Corinna and drove onto the little ferry across the Pieman and on to Strahan. This place was another highlight of our trip, despite the dismal weather. We booked onto the Macquarie Harbour cruise the next day, which took us out through Hell's Gates into the Roaring 40s, and then

A look around Sarah Island gave a fascinating insight into the convict ship building utilising timber floated down the Gordon.

on to Sarah Island for a fascinating tour of the old settlement with a very entertaining guide and then up the magnificent Gordon River. What a stunning place - the forest is so thick and tangled it was a wonder anyone got anything done. On the way back we stopped off at an old mill site. Nick spent a happy hour checking out all the different types of wood on offer and then we found a gin distillery. After selecting our poison for the evening, it was back to our chalet in town (yes very decadent I know) for gin and the oysters we had picked up in Smithton the day before for $1 each. I think the final oyster tally for our time in Tassie was 8 dozen (14 all up if you include the SA oysters we scoffed on the way over and back). The weather continued dismal the next day as we wandered over to Queenstown for the Western Wilderness steam train. It was to be a shortened trip because there had been a landslide up the line (because of rain), but it was just long enough for us to enjoy chugging through the wilderness, tea and scones in hand. The drive out of Queenstown was more than a little nerve wracking I have to say. It was very foggy, freezing cold by this time and the road had many S-bends and precipitous slopes along the way to our next stop, which was Lake St Clair. It's very hard to keep a positive attitude about a place you arrive in on a freezing cold, wet and windy day.

Finishing the day in style with freshly shucked oysters and a drop of local fire water.

Newly built and luxuriously appointed wagons of the Wilderness Express took us up the Rack and Pinion rail line towards Strahan.

Historic Strahan is the centre of Tassie's wild west coast.

The camp site was crowded and muddy, so we floated about the place for as long as we could before setting up camp. I was sitting in our camper, wrapped in every article of clothing I possessed when Nick coaxed me out to see a wombat snuffling around near our camp. Well that certainly brightened up the day for me. The next day the weather was perfect and we strolled around the lake to Platypus Beach (sadly no platypus) before heading to Derwent Bridge and The Wall. I'd not heard of this place before - 80 metres of three metre high Huon pine carved with images of the first European settlers and local flora and fauna. It certainly is very impressive and it was very hard to keep my hands to myself - the carving was so detailed, I just wanted to touch it! From here we were headed to Lake Pedder, (largest inland water body in Oz) camping for the night at Ted's Beach,

which was a lovely spot on the lake's edge. One thing about WA, if you're heading somewhere which is 100km away you can pretty much guarantee you'll be there in an hour or so. The Tassie roads are so winding (much like NZ), you start to wonder how many days it will take you to travel 100km. The dam wall was very impressive and the lake vast. After the obligatory A beautifully restored steam engine added a touch of romanticism to our journey. snaps, we headed down to the Huon Valley to spend a very pleasant couple of days with friends in Glen Huon. For its size, this dam plus a series of canals and Lake Pedder only contribute about 13% of Tassie's power needs. Looking out over Lake Pedder - largest inland water body in Australia.

After leaving Glen Huon we turned south, driving through Franklin (home of the Wooden Boat Festival), to Geeveston where we stopped for breakfast. After stocking up (me on souvenirs at the Visitor's Centre and Nick on chunks of wood at a specialty mill in town), we breakfasted at the Old Bank Cafe in Geeveston. If you are ever down that way, drop in. Their food is outstanding. Bellies full, we headed off to our next destination, Hastings Cave. On the way there we encountered a bewilderedlooking young man, his car sideways and up to its gunwales in mud. He had stopped on the side of the road to take a phone call and slid into a deep ditch. Lucky for him it was Nick to the rescue and he was soon out and on his way to explain to his dad why the Triton was so dirty. Now I'm not much of a one for holes in the ground, but I will make an exception for Hastings Cave. It is extraordinarily beautiful with towering stalagmites and tites, all dramatically lit. The lowest chamber is huge, big enough to hold an orchestra and appreciative audience. From there it was on to the ferry and over to Bruny Island where we camped up at the end of the beach at Cloudy Bay and had a lovely restful couple of days fishing, walking and exploring the place and girding our loins for the big smoke of Hobart and a bustling family Christmas.

This hapless driver reckoned he pulled over to take a call but ended up taking a pull.

Hastings Cave is quite spectacular.

Three Ks down this South Bruny beach at Cloudy Bay is the best campsite complete with new dunny.

Ferry ride number six between North Bruny and Kettering.

Wineglass Bay is much more preferable in aquamarine. There was a huge turn-out for Taste of Tassie as Sydney to Hobart contestants charged up the Derwent to Constitution Dock.

Hobart is an absolutely delightful city. I just love it. After the excesses of Christmas, in that week between Christmas Day and New Year's Day when you're never quite sure what day it is and you've lived on cheese for a week, we diverted ourselves with a visit to MONA on the ferry and were lucky enough to catch the yachts crossing the finish line and sample Tasmania's food and wine at the Taste of Tasmania. If you are ever in Tassie at that time of year, the Taste of Tasmania is a definite must-do. It's so well run, everyone is friendly and polite and it was an absolute joy to visit. Another little gem I found in Hobart is the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery (TMAG), I do have a thing for museums and this one delivers in spades. From Hobart it was up to the Hazards in Coles Bay for NYE with the family. This is the site of the famous Wineglass Bay, which I had always assumed was named because it was shaped like, well a wine glass. Apparently not, its moniker is much more sinister. Whales were slaughtered on the beach there and the bay would fill with blood, making it look like a glass of red wine. After learning this I looked at the place with fresh eyes. We took a water taxi from Coles Bay which dropped us at the isthmus from where it was a 30 minute walk through the bush to the beach. It was just lovely and we picnicked on the beach before heading back to our water taxi and our last night at the Hazards. From here we drove up to St Helens winding our way up the stunning coastline and then across through Fingal to our final night in Ulverstone before boarding the ferry. Even though we'd had a month in Tasmania, we still only scratched the surface of this beautiful place. Because WA is so vast, I had assumed that we'd be able to 'do' Tassie in four weeks but how wrong I was. We are both keen to get back there and visit all the places we either missed or didn't have enough time to thoroughly explore.

AustraliYARNa

By Nick Underwood

Salt lake sights

Just west of Kondinin, larrikin cocky wit on display in a salt lake with fabricated swimmer doing laps, while on shore a ubiquitous blue painted tree reminds us to keep an eye on the mental wellbeing of our mates.

Last resting place

Rusting car hulks at Koonalda just over the border in SA evoke the 50s and 60s with a mix of English and Aussie marques. A cemetery of broken opportunities to make the journey west or east.

Imported Entertainment

Chinese tourists are as entertaining as the sights they're ostensibly there to enjoy. Camera is king - not to necessarily capture the view but to record themselves as being there. At another stunning coastal panorama on the Great Ocean Road, girls drape themselves over the bonnet of hire cars while another makes several attempts at a star jump for the camera - and this is just in the car park - not a stunning vista in sight. At viewing points, kids and grannies are jostled into position to record a memory of them at this place. Elsewhere, photos are snapped of info boards as the manic rush to record and hurry on continues. I tried to imitate the star jumper in the car park but failed.

Possumbilities

At Lake St Clair our nearest neighbour, Pirate Jim from Bunbury, regaled us with stories on fishing success, axes, Japanese knives, amazing deals on camper trailers and, more recently, how a possum the night before undid the zip on their camper trailer, hopped inside and helped itself to a loaf of bread and a packet of Pringles. We are the sum of our anecdotes. Western 4W Driver #114 93

Roaminclature

By Nick Underwood

Intriguing place names tickle our fancies - little highlights as we pass by to fool around with and conjecture over until a fresh one looms up to start us off again.

Here's a small taste of some we discovered over east. Burnt Creek: Three we found and there were probably more. They all did look a bit the worse for wear and in today's climate (excuse the pun) just a tad too close to home. Bust-Me-Gall Hill: At the top of a saddle after a steep and winding climb in east Tassie, this unofficial signage speaks for everyone who doesn't do heights and perhaps for those who just discovered they don't. Asses Ears Road: Really tested the imagination. Deep in the East Grampians this name refers to a profile in the range, but the ears must have been lying flat during our visit as we couldn't spot a likeness anywhere. Murdering Hut Creek: The mind

boggles. A search of NSW geographic names might expose the deed behind the name. Gotta watch those huts - you never know when they're going to turn on you. Bird in Hand Road: Hints at decisions made and opportunities taken, or a twitcher from the Birden On Society lives there. Worlds' End (SA): So named because at the time the place was settled everyone thought the land was marginal at best. We camped there in Burra Creek and it was delightful. Get Brawlin Road: Warring neighbours are common. These must have been exceptional to evoke a road name. Turn Back Jimmy Creek: Was it a flood

that took Jimmy down the watercourse? Or was Jimmy on the rampage and repelled here? Either way a welcome change from Five Mile, Six Mile, and Ten Mile Creek ad infinitum. Suez Canal Road: We didn't drive (or float) down this road, so never spotted a culvert that might have invoked the moniker or met anyone living there of middle eastern appearance. Well, it's a mystery.