Farewell to Van Diemen's Land

Well, six weeks isn't a very long time, is it!  I can't believe that I'm due on the ferry to go home today and that my time here in Tasmania is at an end.  Ah well, there's still so much to see that I'll just have to start planning the next trip here.

The evening light on paperbarks, Low Head

I decided to explore the Tamar Valley, thinking food, wine, galleries and some serious chilling, but instead found the Tamar Island wetlands centre.  There was a lovely walk over the wetlands to the Tamar Island.  The area was very marshy, with reeds and mud everywhere, as well as A LOT of snakes.  

This rather pretty copperhead was sunning itself about a metre away from a sign explaining how there were snakes in the area.  I thought it was fake until it yawned!

And then there were these two ... what were they doing?!?!

And this is why they are called copperheads, I guess.  It sounds so much better than coppertummys.

In Launceston (or Lonnie if I wanted to sound like a local), there was an amazing gallery of blown glass.  The pieces involved incredibly complicated patterns and yet were glorious in the simplicity of their shape and style.  Unfortunately, my rather austere budget does not allow me to buy such works of art.

Beautiful and delicate ... this was my favourite

Leaving the big smoke, I wandered back to the north, visiting Deloraine again (I really could live there) as well as some art/craft galleries along the way.  And I ended up in Mole Creek.  Now, someone had defaced the sign so that it looked like Wolf Creek but that didn't deter me and instead I found one of the gems of my trip.

The Mole Creek hotel was a bit OTT with Tasmanian tigers everywhere!  Evidently, the owners of the pub saw a tiger about twenty years ago ... and a lot of locals have also seen the (perhaps not extinct) marsupial around the little town.  It's certainly doing no harm to the tourist trade.

I walked out to the Alum Cliffs which had some lovely views and then went to see if the caravan park had room for me.  Well, I struck gold yet again.  The park was booked out but the lovely owners found me a site (I called it Site 0) with my own covered benches, a creek, firepit and even power.  The creek had trout in it (and an elusive platypus) and then I discovered Merran and Warren were coming there in a day or so.  How good was this!

Maggie loved this caravan park.  OK, it had water and grass but the real attraction was initially Clyde.  Clyde was an entire male heeler who Maggie thought was the new love of her life.  That was until Glen, the owner, started driving around in his ride-on mower, delivering wood to campsites.  So she rounded him up for a time, much to everyone's amusement.  And then she found the sheep!  Bliss!

Warren, Merran and I went up to Devil's Gullet, a rather steep drive up, up and up, before a short walk out to a lookout.  The views were incredible!  Cradle Mountain, Mt Ossa, the whole Overland Track laid out in front of us on a beautifully clear day.  The lookout itself was terrifying ... it jutted out over nothing.  I thought I was incredibly brave to even go out this far (Maggie the therapy dog helped!).

I know, I know.  The sign says no dogs (or cats ... go figure! Who takes their cat for walkies in the bush?) but when we put Maggie in the back of Warren's car she cried and cried.

I left Mole Creek quite reluctantly.  With only a few days before the ferry, I decided to give Maggie some quality time at the beach and explore some of the other campsites that I hadn't yet visited.  I went to Greens Beach which was a delight - long sandy beaches and a shallow bay.  I camped under some enormous pine trees where I was entertained by the black cockatoos that were eating their way through the pine cones.

Leaving Greens Beach, I decided to go to Turners Beach and here is where everything almost came unstuck ... literally and figuratively!  Lady Google Maps said turn right onto C741 and so I did.  C741 quickly became a dirt road and I did wonder if I should turn around and take the longer route, but the road had a good surface so on I went.  BIG mistake!  The corrugations started soon after that and then the road began to climb ... steeply!  I went down into third gear, then second, bouncing all over the road.  Then road became REALLY steep and I was in first gear (still bouncing all over the corrugations) and I realised that if I stalled I was in serious trouble.  That if I met one of the possible logging trucks, I was in SERIOUS trouble.  That if I stalled when I met one of the logging trucks, I was in REALLY SERIOUS TROUBLE.  Often, when you read a thriller they talk about "breaking out in a cold sweat".  I've always wondered was that really a possible thing ... it is!  Anyway, as you can tell, Van Morrison came through like a champion!  He climbed the mountain, crawled down the other side (second gear, bouncing all over the place) and got me to Turners Beach (big disappointment - no sand and rough seas).  NEVER trust Google Maps.

A PS to this story is that I warned Merran about the now infamous C741 and she thinks it's the same road that Google Maps took them over when they got off the ferry.  In the dark!  With a caravan!  Aaahh!

So this is the end of the trip - I'm sitting here in the caravan park at Devonport, waiting for boarding time.  Maggie is going to travel in the van this time (I couldn't face putting her in those cages again) and I am going to enjoy a drink or two on the deck.  It has been a delightful six weeks and I'm very sorry it's finished ... can't wait to get on the road again!

Doing it tough at the Bay of Fires

Everyone talks about the Bay of Fires.  They ask if you've been there yet.  They all have a favourite camping spot (actually, everyone told me the same place! - and I didn't stay there!).  They rave about the shops at St Helens.  And the fish and chips!  Crayfish!  Divine!  So I guess it's no surprise that I went there.  However, the favoured camp site was wall to wall campers and caravans (as one review put it ... you would be able to hear someone fart three doors away!) and instead, I followed Merran and Warren to Grants Lagoon which might not have been on the beach, but it did border a beautiful lagoon, had very few campers, enormous sites and great hybrid toilets.

Here's my next bit of trivia ... Tasmania is full of bumblebees.  They were smuggled here from New Zealand and were first observed in 1992 (and are probably very inbred since they think there were only two original queens - that trivia is for you, Kelvin).  They are everywhere!  And the Tasmanians (in particular the tomato growers) are lobbying for these introduced species to be bred up and used to pollinate crops.  Jacqui Lambie (who has said some sensible, if rude, things in the past) agrees with this, so she is now off my Christmas card list!  I cannot believe that this is being contemplated considering the evidence about the harm introduced species do to the natural environment.  There is a theory that they are trying to get this approved in Tasmania so that tomato/cucumber growers can get the bumblebee introduced to the mainland.  Be vigilant!

The beaches on the Bay of Fires are absolutely stunning.  Huge rounded boulders splashed with vivid orange lichen tumble out of the white sand.  The sea is a delightful turquoise in the sunlight and is surprisingly warm, although our lagoon was even warmer and a beautiful (and clean) way to start each day.  Maggie thought the lagoon was wonderful!  One day, I walked out from Skeleton Point to Grants Point and then Dora Point.  When I got to Dora Point, I was delighted to see four dolphins, lazily make their way past me ... it looked to be two mothers and their young.

Merran named this the Rock of Australia.  It was huge and you had to wonder how it was formed, with this significant gap (the Bight) at its base.

I had the loveliest time at the Bay of Fires with Merran and Warren.  Apart from the delicious fish that Warren was catching, it was great to have company (sorry Maggie ... sometimes I need to have an actual conversation!).  But it was time to ...

... get clean!  So I went back to St Helens and spring-cleaned the van, washed the bedding, scrubbed layers of sand and dirt off me and, finally, took Maggie to the dog wash!  We were SO clean!  Unfortunately it didn't last long but we felt pretty damn good for a short while!

The path east from St Helens goes through Pyengana, home to two lovely walks to Hall Waterfall and St Columbos Waterfall, a cheese factory/dairy and the Pub in the Paddock ... which is a pub in a paddock.  I stayed at the recreation ground - I'm rather fond of these free camps since there is a lot of space and there are usually good facilities (got to keep the footballers happy!).

Halls Waterfall

Maggie at the base of an enormous (hence ancient) myrtle tree.

A myrtle tree wrapping itself around a tree fern

St Colombos Falls

This area (the north-east of Tasmania) is full of old mining sites but many of the communities seem to be stagnating ... except around Derby.  Derby has become the Mecca for mountain bike riding with a plethora of trails of varying difficulty.  Staying at the free camp at Derby was impossible because it was full of two-wheeling, lycra-clad, ultra-fit people toting bikes.  Walking a dog didn't cut it at all.  I went up to Gladstone to escape the scent of lubricant and sweat, only to find that I'd left my duelling banjo at home ... cue music ... so didn't stay at that free camp either.  I must be getting fussy!

The little blue lake was formed when an alluvial tin mine stopped production and the mine was flooded.  Visitors are warned about swimming in the lake because the water is highly contaminated with toxic heavy metals.  Mind you, this didn't stop a family from having a refreshing dip while I was there.  I hope they're ok.

 Low Head Lighthouse

I ended up at one of the caravan parks at Low Head that had converted their dead cypress trees into some sort of carved homage to Pirates of the Caribbean.  The park itself was quite tastefully organised so one shouldn't judge a park by its appalling sculptures at the entrance.

And now I'm off again.  I'm not quite sure where I'm off to but perhaps somewhere with mountains.  Watch this space ...

What Plant Is That?

 I thought I was very well prepared for this trip, having packed numerous fiction and reference books.  So identifying birds has been a doddle (although I did struggle a little bit with the dead fairy prion) but ... identifying plants has been quite a challenge.  It's easy to see that a flower is a heath ... but what heath?  I've seen about four different casuarinas and am a bit embarrassed to just keep saying "oh look at the casuarina".  So I'm on the hunt for a good book on Tasmanian native plants.  Until then, go for broke!  Any identifications gladly accepted.

On a slightly different flora issue, I'd just like to say that Tasmania is the weed-centre of Australia (sorry, Tasmanians, but it had to be said!).  Most paddocks are full of weeds (thistles, gorse, ragwort, blackberries, dock) and many of the roads have agapanthus, gorse, briar roses, blackberries and an orange-flowering bulb filling the verges.  Even the conservation areas and national parks are full of blackberries and other weeds.  Thistles, thistles, everywhere!  

Scoparia (Richea scoparia)

Round-leaf rice-flower (Pimelea nivea)