Our Last Entry

Unfortunately, as the saying goes, all good things must end, and this blog entry is the last one I will write for our Excellent Adventure . Last January, the end of our year of travels seemed like something in the distant future and never really entered our consciousness. And now it has happened. Our days of living out of a suitcase are over, at least for a while, and we have to readjust to a more “normal” life back in Calgary, which in many ways is just as, or even more, challenging than being on the road. Let me describe our journey home and then end with a few observations on the past year.

We left Rob and Lyn’s place before 7:00 a.m. on Sunday December 2nd and headed for the airport. It had been wonderful to see our friends again whom we had first met on a Caribbean cruise in 1992, especially with the added bonus of having been able to see their two sons again who are now successful young men with good careers. Hopefully we’ll be seeing them and other friends from Oz in Canada in the years to come. Anyway, Sydney traffic was light this Sunday morning and half an hour after leaving Ryde we entered the airport grounds and returned our rental vehicle.

Our flight was right on time, so after an excellent breakfast in the Air New Zealand lounge (Air Canada doesn’t have their own), we boarded our flight for Vancouver. Once again we had one of AC’s new Executive First cabins with their individual “pods” and lie-flat seats so we had a very comfortable flight. We touched down in Honolulu about 10 hours after take off and had to go through US customs before re-boarding the aircraft, a completely asinine and frustrating exercise in my opinion. But the Americans seem to delight in pissing off people coming to their country by putting everyone through the customs rigmarole, even when in transit. AC was starting a new non-stop Sydney to Vancouver route two weeks later that will eliminate the stop in Hawaii…too bad it hadn’t been sooner! Anyway, we got some sleep en route to Vancouver and touched down there two hours earlier than we had left Sydney, having “regained” the day we’d lost crossing the International Date Line in April.

Our first glimpse of Canada was a fitting one I suppose…grey skies and a thin blanket of white covering the normally green grass on the airport grounds. Yes there was snow to welcome us home, something rare in Vancouver at any time and certainly unusual for this early in the winter season. My first thoughts as we taxied to our gate were of our connecting flight to Calgary and whether there would be any problems…a prescient thought as it turned out!

As we waited for our noon flight it began to snow, a light dusting at first increasing in intensity as the morning wore on. We noted with some trepidation that the departures screen in the AC lounge showed a number of delayed and cancelled flights, but we were relieved to see our flight boarding right on schedule at 11:30. As our departure time of 12:00 arrived, the pilot announced that we were just waiting for de-icing before heading off to Calgary. And as it turned out, we waited a little longer than planned….4 hours to be exact. We sat there with occasional announcements saying we were still waiting (duh!!) and they didn’t have any idea when we’d leave. At least the crew turned on the entertainment system and we had time to watch a couple of movies which helped to pass the time. Finally at 3:30, the pilot announced that the airport had run out of de-icing fluid and that the flight was cancelled. This of course was a lie, as many flights did leave after ours, but I’ll give them marks for creativity at least!

We were told our bags would be unloaded and we could pick them up in the luggage area. Yeh right! After waiting another two hours with no sign of them, we gave up. We had to overnight in Vancouver. On the plane, the man sitting in front of me had lent me his cell phone to call the boys about our delay, and as we waited in line to change our flights to the next day, we struck up a conversation, which turned out to be very fortuitous. The hotel booking service for stranded passengers informed us that no rooms were available due to the many cancelled flights over the last 48 hours, but this fellow and his wife were frequent business travelers to Vancouver and stayed in a small boutique hotel downtown and he assured me he could get us a room there. So with the help of these fellow stranded passengers, we booked a room (by far the most expensive accommodation of our year away) and hopped a cab downtown. Our new-found friends were determined to wait for their luggage so hung around the airport a while longer, only to discover that all luggage on our flight was being routed directly to another plane which was going to Calgary that evening. (I guess they had miraculously found some more de-icing fluid!) Anyway, we had a very nice room at the Wedgwood Hotel and slept like logs till our wake up call at 7:30 the next morning.

The temperature had risen overnight and was now above freezing, and we could see that much of the snow had melted as we drove to the airport with our Good Samaritan couple. Being in Business Class we boarded first and as the last of the passengers streamed onto the packed aircraft we had yet another of our amazing “small world” experiences that have happened several time this past year. You can imagine our utter amazement when Sue’s best friend in Calgary, Diane, walked through the door and down the isle past us. It took a second for this to register and then all three of our mouths dropped open as we gawked at each other and tried to fathom this impossible coincidence. As it turned out, Diane had been in Penticton visiting her mother-in-law and was connecting in Vancouver for her flight to Calgary. As Diane blurted out…”What are the chances??” As the plane was about to leave Diane couldn’t stop more than a couple of seconds, but we caught up with here again the moment we deplaned in Calgary 90 minutes later.

Again this meeting was not only an amazing coincidence but turned out to be another very fortuitous encounter. We expected Ryan to be at the airport to pick us up, but after a call to our son (again having to borrow a cell phone – this time from Diane) we discovered that he couldn’t get his car started and he wouldn’t be coming. Fortune was shining on us as Diane’s husband Murray was waiting in their car outside the terminal and would give us a ride home. After a few minutes searching through the hundreds of suitcases which had been dumped in the baggage area we found our luggage and were on our way.

We found our house still standing when we got home and Ryan and Maddy, Rob’s lovely little terrier, there to greet us. Rob showed up later in the afternoon after he finished work and it was wonderful to be reunited with our family, albeit 24 hours later than planned. And therein lies one last “coincidence”. Readers of this blog may remember that on our very first flight on January 18th to Guatemala City, we were delayed by bad weather in Calgary and missed our connection in Houston, where we had to overnight. So, on both our first and last flights of this trip we experienced problems, though I must say that all our other flights and indeed all our travel has gone amazingly well otherwise.

So here we are back home. Things seem much the same as when we left in January, and a week later as I write this entry, we are pretty much back into a routine life in Calgary. The boys looked after the house pretty well though it needed a thorough cleaning (their view of clean and ours are pretty far apart!), and Sue has been busy getting the place shipshape. I unfortunately have been of little help as my hip has definitely taken a nosedive of late and I’m now not able to walk much. I saw my surgeon yesterday and am in the queue for a hip resurfacing or replacement, though I may have to wait up to 3 or 4 months before they can get me in. We are scrambling to get ready for Christmas as Ryan, Sue and I are heading to Saskatoon for a week while Rob is staying here and working. (He is certainly working hard at his job and finally appears to have found his occupational niche in life as an Acura salesman. And he is doing very well and realizing the fruits of his labour. His picture was in the paper a few weeks ago for getting the award for the top salesman this last quarter at his dealership!).

So that’s about the end of our story. We are back safe and sound and will likely not be doing any more travelling till I’m fully recovered from my hip surgery which could be 6 months or more. That doesn’t stop us from dreaming however, and realizing that we both enjoy travelling, I’m sure we’ll be flying off somewhere again as soon as we can.

So, how does one sum up such a marvelous experience as Sue and I have had without resorting to overused clichés and banal descriptions? I recall during our first week of this year away when we were staying at Puerto Barrios in Guatemala, we were chatting with a local with our rudimentary Spanish and he observed: “Ustedes estan teniendo una gran aventura” (You are having a great adventure) and he was right. Our “Excellent Adventure” as this blog has been called, has been both “great” and “excellent”. In our first entry, I commented on our excitement in setting of on this trip, but also some feelings of trepidation at venturing into the unknown. Although we had travelled for extended periods before, those adventures were many years ago when we were much younger and we weren’t certain how we would fare, especially in the unknown world of Central America and Peru. Australia was known territory and we realized that travelling there would be much more straightforward than our time in the Americas. But as it turned out, we really had nothing to be worried about as with a little forward planning and common sense the travelling was quite manageable.

This year has been a fantastic experience for both of us. We have seen many wondrous sights, had incredible experiences and met many wonderful people. The highlights are too many to mention though I might single out our time in Guatemala and Peru as perhaps the most intriguing and stimulating places we visited, and our three and a half months in Cairns as our most relaxing and enjoyable time. But nearly every day (with the possible exception of a couple of 45 degree days in northern Australia) was wonderful. We had thought about making a “top 10” list of our experiences, but that seems to be an impossible task. Suffice it to say that we have a wealth of memories and that our lives have been enriched as a result of this “gran aventura”. But this will be our last protracted journey like this. Sue and I both agree that a year is too long to be away and that our future travels will be in smaller segments of 2 or 3 months at the very most. Although we’ve made an admirable dint in Patricia Schultz’s list of “One Thousand Places To See Before You Die” we still have many new places to see and others to revisit. So who knows, there may be another travel blog in the future.

Let me end by saying “thank you”to a few people. To all those we have met and who have shared a part of our travels, it was a delight for us to have you share this experience with us. To Michael and Sue …thanks for our five-star experience in Costa Rica. To our friends Lyn and Rob, and Cheryl and Mike and their families, thanks for your hospitality and friendship in Australia. Thank you to all our family and friends who kept in touch…your emails and calls were much cherished and much appreciated. And to our boys Rob and Ryan, thanks for looking after things while we were away.

I hope you’ve enjoyed following along with Robb and Sue’s Excellent Adventure.

Australia Entry 24 - Our Last Days in Oz

As we stepped out of the terminal at Brisbane Airport, we were greeted by a waft of warm humid air and bright sunshine which felt wonderful after the cool winds and dull skies we'd had in Tasmania the last few days. After a quick check-in at Eurocar, we were on our way north towards the Sunshine Coast.
We had arranged a return visit to our friends Cheryl and Mike who live on the Gold Coast near Surfer's Paradise south of Brisbane, and with whom we had stayed for a few days in May on our way north. Cheryl had found a “bargain” long weekend at a resort in Nooseville and we'd agree to meet them there about midday Thursday. Although Mike is a teacher and really shouldn't have the time off, he had phoned in for a “sicko” this morning and would do so again Friday, giving him a chance to get a way for a few days. As we were leaving the airport our mobile phone chirp alerted us to a text message. It was Cheryl asking where we were. It turns out they were also on the road and had in fact just passed the Brisbane airport, so were about 5 minutes ahead of us. We kept in touch by text messages as we drove along the 6 lane motorway, eventually turning off onto a series of roads which required us to have our wits about us as there were a number of roundabouts with roads going to all sorts of Sunshine Coast towns.
The Sunshine Coast, about 100 kms or so north of Brisbane, is one of Queensland's premier residential and vacation spots with wonderful weather, great beaches and huge array of accommodation. We again drove through beautiful sub-tropical countryside which was green and verdant with colorful flowering trees, despite the continuing drought in southern Queensland. Apparently this area has had more rainfall than other regions to the south where strict water rationing is still in effect. (Our rental car had not been washed for example...”Sorry for any Inconvenience!”). Through the magic of mobile phone messaging, we were able to find Mike and Cheryl parked in the town of Noosaville and we figured out the location of our resort, which turned out to be great....a two bedroom townhouse in a complex with 4 pools, bar-b-ques and all the mod cons. But before we checked in, we joined Mike and Cheryl in their spacious Jaguar and headed to a restaurant pub with a great view over the bay, where we had a lovely lunch sitting on the deck in the warm air.
We had a wonderful weekend here in Noosa which, like most seaside towns we visited in Queensland, had changed dramatically since we stopped here for a few days as campers in 1978. The beach is much the same but of course there has been tremendous development of resorts, homes, shops restaurants, etc. over the past thirty years. We spent time relaxing by the pool, driving to nearby beaches, doing a little shopping, having several games of viciously competitive Scrabble, and of course sampling our fare share of Aussie wines. Mike and Cheryl are such sociable and easy-going people and it was delightful to be spending a few days with them. But despite the laid back and relaxing atmosphere, our weekend was not without a little drama.
Saturday November 24th was election day in Australia. For weeks we had been inundated with the usual flood of campaign ads, TV debates and political commentary on every morning show and news cast. The incumbent Prime Minister, John Howard, was seeking a 5th straight term, though the writing seemed to be on the wall for the 70+ Liberal leader as the polls were giving the opposition Labour Party under their young new leader, Kevin Rudd, a substantial lead. Cheryl and Mike had voted in an advance poll as they would be away on election day and there was no doubt where Cheryl had put her vote. She was quite animated as she listed a string of complaints about Howard et al and said she was absolutely praying for Labour victory which would toss out the “ineffectual and lying” Liberals who made a life of kowtowing up to George Bush. For the last few days the political commentators and pollsters had been saying that the Liberals were closing the gap and the election could actually come down to the wire. So Cheryl was in a bit of a state as she sat down in front of the tele to watch the returns. As it turned out, she had nothing to worry about as Labour won a comfortable majority, Kevin Rudd became Australia's new PM and John Howard was defeated in his own seat after 33 continuous years in Parliament. Cheryl was completely chuffed and celebrated till after the rest of us had headed to bed!
We weren't flying back to Sydney till Wednesday so Mike and Cheryl had graciously invited us back to their home in Ashmore for a few nights. We left Noosa and headed south towards Brisbane having arranged to see Mike and Cheryl at their place. On the way we left the main motorway and took a country road westward for a few kilometres to see a region called the Glass Mountains. As we came to a break in the dense forest cover, we could suddenly see a series of large rocky hills rising up from the otherwise gently rolling landscape. These “mountains” were the remnants of volcanoes which had eroded to leave just the a “plug” rising several hundred feet in sharp conical formations. Quite the sight! We sort of got lost leaving this area and instead of joining the motorway again well to the south, we ended up at the place we had originally left the main road, but in any case, we arrived at Mike and Cheryl's in the late afternoon.
Monday Sue and I spent most of the day trying to make hotel bookings for Sydney. We wanted to get something close to the theatre where we were going to see the musical Billy Elliot, but after 2 or 3 hours unsuccessfully trying to find something, we gave up and drove to a nearby travel agent who was able to book us into somewhere nearby. We also found the airport hotels are very expensive (just like Sydney city hotels come to think of it) so we are now hoping to stay with our Sydney friends Rob and Lyn on Saturday night in steady of just Friday night, and head off to the airport very early Sunday morning. This coming Sunday is going to be one long day!!
Tuesday the weather had improved from the unseasonably wet days we had over the weekend and on Monday, so we headed down to Main Beach at Surfer's Paradise just a few kilometres to the east of Mike and Cheryl's place. Surfers is famous as the fun and sun capital of Queensland and perhaps all Australia and a playground for the rich and famous (or those with large mortgages!). I guess at one time back in the 1950's or 60's it was pretty much a surfing destination as the surf is often ideal for riding a board. But over the years Surfers and the surrounding Gold Coast have become one of Australia's premier residential areas with incredible residential developments along the coast. A series of inland waterways and lakes has provided home-front access to the water for thousands of residents who can afford the sky high property prices. Just park your cabin cruiser at your private dock and life is good. Stretching along the coast are hundreds of high rise apartment buildings, the tallest and most expensive of these being here at Surfers. The Q1 Tower, the world's tallest residential building which we had toured when we were here in May, dominates the skyline. And a series of almost-as-tall apartments and hotels stretch along the golden white sand beach in both directions as far as the eye can see.
The beach was deserted by Surfer's standards with only a few sunbathers on the sand and a handful of riders out in the relative placid sea. Sue went off to do a little shopping in the nearby tourist area while I settled down for what turned out to be out last hours of sunbathing here in Australia.
That evening, Cheryl's ex husband Russ, whom we had known in the UK when they were still married, and their son Dean who had been at school with Rob and Ryan in Tadworth, dropped over for dinner. We had a good visit while we chowed down on 'Stampede Burgers” which I had put together and grilled up on Mike's bar-b-que (a big hit). It was a nice way to spend our last night with friends, though it was sad to say good-bye to everyone at the end of the evening.
We were up early Wednesday morning and bid farewell to Cheryl as she headed off to work. We didn't have much time to spare as we had to get our rental car back to the airport which was about 100 kms to the north. Traffic along the motorways was light and we made good time which was lucky as we spent about half an hour driving around a town near the airport looking for a place to fill up our rental car. By the way, it's worth mentioning that the price of fuel had jumped dramatically since we'd been on the east coast in the spring, and unleaded was now around $1.42 per litre compared to the $1.16 we'd been paying then. Fuel was certainly one of our biggest expenses on this trip. Sue kept track of all our fill ups along the way, so we'll have to add it up.
We had another uneventful trip on Virgin Blue ($89 each total cost). One thing that is cheaper in Oz are the domestic air fares. As mentioned previously, Richard Branson has introduced some stiff competition for Qantas in the domestic market and a new airline called Tiger, which just began operations this week, threatened to lower the price point event further. It was interesting to see Virgin Blue advertising flights within Australia (one day only I think) for five cents!! Now that's undercutting the competition!
We had decided not to rent a car for our one night in Sydney so we hopped a cab down to the hotel that our travel agent had booked, just to find that they were overbooked and were moving us to the Travelodge next door. It was a decent standard and they reduced our tariff from $195 to $120 for the “inconvenience”, so not a bad deal. We had a short walk around the area, did some email at an Internet place before returning to the hotel to get cleaned up for our big night at the theatre.
Billy Elliot had opened recently in Sydney to rave reviews. We had been lucky enough to find (on-line) two seats for this Wednesday evening performance though most other dates were sold out. The musical was being held in the Capital Theatre which was a grand venue originally opened in the 1860's and completely refurbished to its original period splendour in the 1997. The interior h.d ornate decorations, sparkling stars on the dark blue ceiling, Greco-Roman statues, and spectacular gilded columns and balustrade bordering the stage at the top and sides. It was almost worth the price of admission itself. The musical on the other hand, in our opinion, was something of a disappointment after all the hype we'd heard and the $125/ticket price tag! It is based on the film by the same name and although there were 2 or 3 spectacular numbers, the cast was competent, and the young lad who played Billy Elliot (one of five or six who share the role) was very good, the production seemed to lack spark and emotion. It certainly didn't make our top 5 musicals list.
Well, after a pause of a few days in the writing of this entry, I'm back, though you probably didn't even know I was away! We are currently on AC Flight 34 heading east from Sydney and I'll finish off this entry here on the flight.
The next morning we picked up a rental car at a downtown office and after a brief stop in the harbour area to take an obligatory picture or two of the Opera House and Sydney Bridge, we worked out way out of the core westward towards the Blue Mountains. Sue and I had driven through this area on our way to Sydney from Broken Hill in 1978, but we had not spent much time in this spectacular region with its deep valleys, orange cliffs and gumtree-covered hills. The motorway westward rose steadily and we were soon driving through rolling highlands thick with tall gums and gorgeous Jacaranda trees with their profusion of purple blossoms. We eventually left the main highway to follow a narrow, winding country road which took us through thickly forested terrain, eventually coming out at one of the most famous spots in Australia. Echo Lookout provides a panoramic view over a valley and surrounding cliffs and is a prime destination for tourists visiting Australia because of the famous Three Sisters formation, a large cliff face topped by three columns of rock. The formation was just the same as it had been nearly 30 years ago when we had stopped here, but I had forgotten that the Three Sisters, which is pictured in almost every tourist brochure on Australia, was just a small part of the majestic view that spread before us from the lookout.
Views of the Blue Mountains are spectacular but are always somewhat hazy. Sue had read that this was due to the “blue mist”, (whence the mountains get their name), that is created by the sun reflecting off tiny drops of oil released by the millions of gumtrees in the region, to float through the air like a thin blue fog. Unfortunately, our photos of the region are are somewhat misty and dull, but I guess that's a true reflection of how they appear.
I have to relate a little incident that unfortunately seems to be typical of prime tourist territory these days. When we arrived at the lookout, all parking in the area was metred. We weren't staying here long as we couldn't take any of the wonderful walks in the region and really only needed a few minutes to gawk at the view and take a few pictures. The metres were exorbitantly priced at 50 cents for 8 minutes, so we figured a 15 minutes would be lots. When we put our money into the electronic metre, it displayed a message saying “Insufficient Funds”. It seems even parking metres these days have their “minimums”. There happened to be two wardens ticketing cars nearby so Sue asked them and they confirmed we had to pay for an hour ($3.50) even if we were just staying five minutes. Sue bemoaned this to the young traffic wardens and they graciously said to go ahead for a few minutes and they wouldn't ticket us. But, it just seems that everywhere you go these days the price of looking at Mother Nature's wonders keeps escalating!
After our quick look at the Three Sisters, we continued on to another promontory where more “spectacular-views-for-a-price” attractions have been created. A Skyride, Gondola and mini train, each give you a different perspective of the mountains, cliffs, forests and waterfalls packed into this small region of the Blue Mountains. We opted to take the Skyride which travels slowly along a cable suspended between two cliff faces. It actually was well worth it as we had spectacular views of a high waterfall, cliff faces and the forest far below from the clear Plexiglas floor of the large gondola-like car.
The day's light overcast was turning to dark storm clouds as we made our way to the small town of Blackheath where we found a nice motel for the evening. We decided to try out some pub food for dinner, but as we were about to head off for the local tavern, the skies opened and the rain pelted down. We waited till there was a lull in the downpour to get in the car, but by the time we got to the pub, it was pounding down again. Sue ran from the car park, but as I had to hobble my way, my hair and jacket were drenched by the time I reached the door. The warm interior of the pub was very inviting and the pint of ale and hearty pub grub hit the spot.
The next morning was again overcast and foggy and it seemed that we might not be seeing much more than the road ahead of us! And indeed when we drove into a lookout we'd read about (Evan Lookout), all we could see was a few trees and thick fog. We hung around for a few minutes and were just about to leave when almost miraculously, there was a break in the clouds and the mist parted like the biblical Red Sea, revealing a deep green valley flanked by vertical orange cliffs and two or three waterfalls falling hundreds of feet to the valley floor. (At least the recent rains had resulted in these awesome displays!) Once again we had a stunning panoramic view of the mountains in all their splendour. We watched as mist formed just above the tree tops hundreds of feet below us, rising up the cliff face towards us like a white colored hot air balloon...quite the show!
The clouds continued to lift so we drove to two more lookouts in the region where we were presented with equally captivating views. Then later in the afternoon we started our homeward trek to Sydney to visit our friends Rob and Lyn whom we had originally shared a table with on our Caribbean cruise with the boys in 1992. Their sons, Iain and James are the same age as our Rob and are now grown up. Iain, who works in the banking industry, had just returned from London with his fiancée when we we were here in May and he popped into Rob and Lyn's just after we arrived. James, their other son, was back for a few days visit from Hong Kong where he is a pilot for Cathay Pacific. James arrived later in the evening and we had some interesting chats about his life as an international pilot.
Rob and Lyn as always, made us feel right at home and we had a pleasant evening with them talking over bar-b-que'd steaks and a glass of red or two (or maybe more...not sure!!). Saturday, Rob and Lyn took us to the Olympic stadium area to see the massive development that had hosted the Games in 2000 and then to a mall for some final souvenir shopping. And then it was a fond farewell Sunday morning as we set off at 6:45 for the airport and our Air Canada flight.
So, here I am, seated in my Executive Class “pod” typing up the last of this entry. We've been in the air for about 3 hours now and I can see several beautiful azur and green atols near Fiji directly below us. (Unfortunately we are not stopping in Fiji for a few days as we did on our last trip to Oz in 1994!) They say it's snowing in Vancouver and there's a cold snap in Calgary, so I guess I'll have to change out of my shorts before arrival!
I'm going to end this entry now, though I will write another one sometime soon kind of summing up our “Great Adventure”. So until then...over and out.

A pub near Noosa where we stopped for lunch. The flame trees in the region were in full bloom and presented a magnificent sight.

Cheryl and Sue at the pub

Mike and Cheryl cooking up some beef on their bar-b-que (sure...!)

Another beautiful flame tree

The Glass Mountains

Robb having a dip in Cheryl and Mike's pool

Main Beach at Surfers

A final splash in the Pacific

Christmas decorations at the beach seemed somewhat incongruous

The Q1 tower...world's tallest residential building

Some scenes of Sydney

The Opera House with Sydney Bridge in the background

The Three Sisters in the Blue Mountains

The Skyride we took

Early morning mist in the mountains

We could never pass an information kiosk without Sue wanting to stop

The recent rains resulted in some spectacular falls

Lyn, Rob and son James in Sydney

Homeward bound

Our last glimpse of Australia as we left the coast and headed east En route

Atols near Fiji

Our arrival in Vancouver....and That's Another Story!!!

Australia Entry 23 - Tasmania

Tamania

Like Western Australia, we have not visited Tasmania on previous trips to Oz. Sue had been looking forward to seeing this island,which is Australia's smallest and most southern state, though I must admit I was not looking forward to the much cooler weather. We'd been keeping an eye on the national weather forecast and had not seem temperatures much above the mid teens in Tassie despite it being virtually the start of Australia's summer. But as we stepped out from Hobart's airport terminal around four o'clock, late afternoon sun was warm and the air seemed mild enough, though a cool breeze made us glad we had donned our fleeces and long pants for our flight.

We picked up our rental car and got directions to the caravan park where we had booked a cabin for our first three nights. I don't know if we've mentioned before that we joined a camping organization called Big 4 which has many caravan parks around Australia. For the most part these are of higher standards and we've stayed in many of them because membership affords us a 10% discount. So, based on the quality standards of the chain, we had booked a cabin at the Barilla Holiday Park, a Big 4 near the airport. A ten minute drive brought us to a small village situated in beautiful countryside at the base of a large hill covered in green grass and scattered oak-like trees, with black and white cows grazing here and there. All in all it was a very pastoral scene very reminiscent of English countryside. Our campground was just a couple of hundred metres down the small country lane situated in a small grove of trees. It all seemed very auspicious.

But unfortunately this particular Big 4 was anything but up to usual standards. We paid our three nights tariff, forgetting my rule to always check out accommodation before paying, and we were somewhat depressed when we found our small, old and very rustic one room cabin which wasn't a patch on the great cabin we'd had at our last Big 4, The Peppermint Eco Park in Busselton. Anyway, we hunkered down for the night, but I was so mad at myself for having paid for three nights in this dump (“No refunds for early departure.” according to our receipt) that I slept badly and was tired and grouchy in the morning. While I was showering, Sue took the liberty of checking with the office as to whether they had anything better. Turns out they did and she said we'd take the larger cabin, despite it being another $40 per night. This cabin was indeed roomier but I still considered it the biggest ripoff we've had for accommodation in Australia, especially as we found a much nicer and cheaper campground for our fourth night in Hobart. Anyway we (or more correctly, “I”) didn't get off to a great emotional start in Tasmania despite our first impression of the landscape being one of great natural beauty.

We had not formulated any detailed plans other than we had 10 days here and wanted to see as much of the island as we could. We had left our big guidebooks and maps with the van, but Sue had armed herself with a collection of brochures and pamphlets at the airport and we had secured a map of the island from the Hertz desk, so Monday morning after moving into our new cabin, we mentally sketched out a tour around the island. We decided to stay in Hobart through to Thursday morning when we would head north along the east coast, turning left to see the north coast, and eventually heading south to be back in Hobart the night of November 21st, prior to our 7:00 a.m. (yuk!) departure to Brisbane the next morning.


One of our brochures had described Tasmania as “an island of untold wonders”. And certainly everyone we had ever spoken to who had lived in or visited Tasmania had spoken of it in glowing terms as being the most beautiful place in Australia. As well as its many natural attractions, Tasmania has a long and fascinating history with many remnants of it colorful past still preserved in museums and historical sites. So we began our explorations with a visit to perhaps the most famous of Tasmania's historical locations – Port Arthur.

As most people are no doubt aware, early settlement of Australia was fueled by the many prisoners who were sent here from Britain to serve their sentences. These “Prisoners Of Her Majesty” were sent here in their thousands and even today people from England are often referred to as POMs or Pommies. Port Arthur, situated on an isthmus to the south of Hobart, was first established in 1830 as a logging camp where the prisoners were put to work felling the ample timber of the region and loading boats in Port Arthur's natural deep water harbour for shipment to Hobart and beyond. But in 1833 the colony was converted to what today might be considered a maximum security institution which housed hardened criminals and repeat offenders. (It's an interesting aspect of this penal colony that prisoners for the most part were free to move about as they pleased, albeit in leg irons weighing 30lbs. Escape was almost impossible as the colony was situated at the end of a narrow spit of land called Eagle Hawk Neck which was only a few metres wide. Vicious dogs were stationed here and were trained to attack any prisoner trying to pass on foot and to raise the alarm for nearby guards. Also, the guards let it be known that the waters surrounding Port Arthur were teeming with man-eating sharks...in truth a fallacy...which further discouraged anyone from trying to swim to freedom. As a result, there was never a successful escape from the colony.)

Port Arthur was describe as “a machine for grinding rogues honest”, and the cogs of this machine were discipline, punishment, religious instruction, and, in later times, training in the trades. Life here was cruel for the inmates who were housed in dormitories if they were well behaved and in tiny cells if they weren't, where they would spend months or even years in a strict regime of isolation and silence. Corporal punishment in the form of a “tickling” from the Cat of Nine Tails,was frequent and severe for any prisoner breaking any of the hundred or more rules that governed their behaviour and controlled their existence. But alongside the 2000 or more convicts here, a community of officers and their families tried to maintain a normal existence, with schools for the children, social gatherings and even regattas in the bay. As a result, Port Arthur grew to be a town where buildings variously housing the large penitentiary, isolation cells, insane asylum and prisoners' hospital (where only the dieing were admitted) coexisted with officers quarters, churches, schools and administrative offices. The last prisoners were transported to Tasmania in 1853 and the penal colony at Port Arther closed in 1877, the remaining prisoners being dispersed to other jails. Interestingly, within two weeks of its closures, locals began flocking to Port Arthur to see for themselves what life had been like in the penal colony and thereby a flourishing tourist attraction was born which continues to this day. Much of the original town has been destroyed and today only about 30% of the buildings remain. Even so it is an impressive site and we spent 3 or 4 hours wandering through the remains of Australia's most famous and infamous penal institution.

Tragically, Port Arthur regained its notoriety for cruelty and death almost 120 years after the last prisoner left. On the morning of April 28 1996, (11 years ago to the day that Sue and I left for this tour of Australia), a young Hobart man named Martin Bryant armed himself with three high-powered automatic weapons and a large quantity of ammunition and drove to Port Arthur. He entered the home of a local couple he knew and shot them dead. He then proceeded to the historic site were he ate a meal in the crisp fall air on the deck of the cafe. Getting up from the table, he took a rifle from his bag, entered the cafe and began shooting indiscriminately. He then moved to the car park and eventually to the grounds of the site continuing his shooting rampage which ended later that afternoon when he killed two others in the town. At the end of the day, thirty-five people lay dead at Port Arthur. Unlike most killers in similar circumstances, he did not take his own life and was captured by police when he tried to flee on foot from the house where his last victim had been killed. Bryant was eventually tried, convicted and sentenced to 35 life sentences with no possibility of parole. So the tragedy, misery and despair which characterized the lives of indentured prisoners at Port Arthur so many years ago, was again felt by hundreds of people who lost family, friends and colleagues that black day. Even today signs at the site request that visitors do not ask staff about the killings as many of them were touched by the tragic events. It almost makes you wonder if the ghosts of the many who died cruelly at Port Arthur had some how conspired to reek their revenge so many years later.

On Tuesday, after an obligatory visit to the Information Centre in Hobart to stock up on brochures, we drove to another caravan park to book a cabin for Wednesday night (they were much cheaper and much better than the Barilla!!), stopping along the way to wander through a public exhibit at the Antarctic Division Headquarters. I had no idea of the extent to which Australia is involved in research in the Antarctic, but this huge government complex certainly gives you a clue! There were some very fascinating displays in the small public area and we learned a number of interesting facts about this icy continent...for example 70% of the world's fresh water is held in Antarctic ice!

In the afternoon we drove somewhat haphazardly through the Huon Valley (often compared to The Shire in Lord of the Rings), gorgeous rolling and green countryside southwest of Hobart, stopping in at an Apple Museum (aka gift shop) where we sampled (and bought) some of the delicious local apples, and the Grandvewe sheep farm (get it....Grandvewe) where some wonderful sheep cheese is produced from the milk of the ewes. Again we couldn't resist buying.
Wednesday we were up early, thankfully saying our farewells to the Barilla, and drove south to the small town of Kettering where we boarded a ferry for a short ride to Bruny Island and a day that will have to rank as one of our top days in Australia. We had booked an excursion on a boat leaving from the appropriately named Adventure Bay, which promised an exciting 3 hours touring along the rugged southern coast. So, just after 11 we joined about 40 others boarding two identical boats, which as our friendly captain told us, had been purpose built for this type of site seeing.

The boats were about 40 feet in length with about 10 rows of seats, four across. They were powered by 3 275 hp super charged outboards which gave the craft a maximum speed of 50 knots, though we didn;t exceed about 35 (which was plenty fast enough in the seas we were to encounter). Our boat wasn't full so we took our captains advice and took a seat near the stern where he promised the “motion” would be less than in the bow. (As we were to discover he was right, though it turned out that there was still plenty of “motion” where we were sitting!) The seats were open to the air, though a roof covered the seats, so before setting off, we were all presented with full length rubberized coats with high collars and hoods...a hint of things to come. It was pleasantly mild in the harbour and at this point we were feeling pretty warm as we had donned 3 or 4 layers of clothing in anticipation of trip at sea. But believe me, it wasn't long before we were thankful for the cold weather clothes and fleece toques they handed out.
Our skipper, who was quite a card, demonstrated the use of a life jacket, indicating that it was equipped with a whistle (for attracting sharks) and a light (so you could see them attack). We weren't sure if he was kidding when he assured us we didn't need to wear a life jacket, though there were plenty available, but in any case we set off in the calm waters heading to the headland at the end of the bay. As we rounded the headland we quickly learned why we needed our sea gear and why the front seats of the boat were equipped with seat belts. The constant strong winds blowing in from the Antarctic produce some very rough seas off the south coast of Tasmania and in fact the Southern Ocean, between Antarctica and Australia, is the most violent ocean in the world. Our guide had assured us we were in for a beautiful “calm” day...everything is relative I guess. Our little craft was soon bucking along, slamming into the large swells sending up spray to the sides of, and sometimes over, our speeding boat. Our seats near the back were certainly more stable than those at the front that rhythmically rose and fell with the waves, but not by much. We still felt the motion of the boat as the bow pointed skyward as we climbed a wave and then dropped as we entered the trough. But unlike some boat rides we have been on, we didn't even bounce on the seats, so these boats had evidently been very well-designed. Sue had taken some Gravol and we had both availed ourselves of the ginger tablets handed out before we set off (coats the stomach) and luckily we didn't feel seasick at all. But it was certainly an exciting ride at times over the next three hours...the people in the front seats even throwing up their arms at times as if they were on a roller coaster ride.

We soon pulled in closer to the shore where the water was little calmer and for the next three hours we were treated to a most fascinating tour of the rugged coastline. We motored slowly along observing the spectacular towering cliffs, the tallest sea cliffs in Australia, rising straight up from the sea over 260 metres. All along the coast, the jagged rocks at the base of the cliffs were pounded by the relentless seas throwing up huge plumes of water and spray, presenting a colorful canvas of deep blues and brilliant white in stark contrast to the copper and gold tones of the cliff face. Several times we pulled into small bays to see caves or sea tunnels in the rock. At one point we stopped to witness the “breathing hole”...like a blow hole but where an incoming wave is sucked into a small opening in the rock face and then “exhaled” with a huge spout of spray by the pressure of the compressed air in the cavern. Further along we encountered rocks covered in white guano by the nesting cormorants. After an hour or so we motored up towards a towering monolith of rock called The Monument, rising from the sea perhaps a hundred feet like a huge pinnacle just a few metres away from the cliff face. Although we knew what was about to happen from the brochure for this tour, we still gasped and held our breath as the skipper put the throttle full forward and the triple outboards roared, hurtling us toward the small gap between the rock tower and the cliffs. We zipped through the small passage with only a couple of metres on either side of our boat, and safely through, our Captain quipped.. “Wow...I've always wanted to try that!”. What a rush! We continued motoring into the wind and heavy seas heading to the last point of land before Antarctica a couple of thousand miles to the south. We reached our turnaround point at a place called The Friars Rocks, a number of small, craggy islands protruding from the sea like huge stalagmites rising from the ocean floor. Here we saw a colony of seals swimming in the lee of one island or “sunning” on the rocks. Our skipper said they often see Great White sharks and Orcas here as the seals make tasty meals for these large predators, but there were none evident this day. So, after a brief rendezvous with our sister boat who had preceded us by 10 minutes on the trip out, we turned down wind and began our trip back, spotting several albatross but unfortunately none of the humpback whales we'd hoped hope to encounter. The return journey was much smoother as we were with the wind and waves, though it was still a relief to finally enter the sheltered bay where we'd set off, and no longer to have to hold onto the handrail of the of the seat in front! This trip had turned out to be much more, interesting and exciting than we had anticipated and will certainly have to rank as one of our top days in Australia.

That night we stayed in our nice cabin in the caravan park at Snug and set off the next morning, Thursday, up the west coast. We passed through Hobart and took a secondary road winding through some of the green pasture lands north of the city on our way to a small seaside town called Bicheno. Before going on with our tour of the island, I should record our impressions of Hobart itself.

Hobart, a city of about a quarter million, is the capital of Tasmania and sits at the southern end of the island on the Derwent River. It is built on hills around a harbour and is one of the loveliest places we've seen in Australia. Many of the well-preserved buildings date from the mid 19th century and especially in the central harbour district and nearby Battery Point, you have the feeling of being in an English seaside town. In the residential areas small winding streets are bordered by stone stone cottages, at this time of year resplendent with stunning displays of roses of every color, azaleas, rhododendrons, and many other flowers and bushes which seem to fill the small front gardens of these picturesque homes. And the city seems to live an unhurried existence as even the commercial streets are uncongested and people proceed at a leisurely pace. In some ways the citizens of Hobart seem to go along as if they were still in the 19th century....quite a refined and endearing place.

We arrived in Bicheno in mid afternoon and found another very nice caravan park where we stayed for a couple of nights. Late that afternoon we walked down to the beach just near the park intending to just have a walk, but were very surprised to find a number of Little Penguins (used to be called Fairy Penguins when we were last in Oz) sheltering in clefts in the red rocks strewn along the white sand beach. We knew that this coast was a nesting site for these, the world's smallest penguins, but we had anticipated seeing them only at night when they return to shore from spending the day feeding at sea. But I guess not all of them go to sea as we saw several of the little birds with their dark blue and grey plumage lying or standing on the sand in narrow clefts in the rocks. They were certainly safe from contact in their little dens but we could get within two or three feet of some of them and they didn't seem at all bothered by our presence...really cute little animals.

The next morning we were greeted by clear skies and the promise of a warm day. We headed south about 35 kms to Freycinet National Park where one of the “jewels” of this coast is located. Wineglass Bay is beautiful turquoise bay rimmed by a strip of white stand, as the name suggests, in the shape of a wineglass. The bay it is only accessible by a walking path (or by boat)with a round trip of about 2 hours and unfortunately my hip prevents me from making such treks these days, so Sue set off by herself . I picked her up when she returned and her assessment was that the bay was nice but did not live up to the advance publicity. (I suppose we are a bit jaundiced having seen so many stunning places on this trip.) We then drove to a nearby beach where we had out lunch and sat in the warm sun for a couple of hours.

The next day we headed north west climbing up from the coast to the central plateau of the island, eventually reaching Tasmania's second largest city, Launceston. There was a major car racing event on here this weekend and we passed the track on our way in to town, noting the thousands of cars parked in the fields near the track. Thankfully we weren't passing when all those cars were leaving or we could have been stuck in traffic a long time.

We arrived in the city about midday and found a park which had been noted in one of our brochures as having a spectacular gorge with suspended cable chair which would give you a fabulous view. As it turned out the gorge was not much more than a small stream cascading down some rocks, but it was a nice spot for the locals as there was a large municipal swimming pool and grassy areas for picnicking. We then headed down to the centre of town and where I found a free internet hotspot on an outside mall while Sue went for a haircut.

Later that afternoon we continued on the port city of Devenport where the large ferries to the mainland (or as the Tassies call it, “Tasmania's northern island”) set off and arrive daily. After checking into a cabin near the sea, we decided to have take out fish and chips (eaten in the car) and then take in a show at the local cinema. The only reasonable alternative was “Elizabeth – The Golden Age” which Sue really enjoyed and I found to be a pleasant divergence from our usual cabin-bound evenings.

The next the weather closed in and we had dull skies and a very cool wind as we motored through some absolutely gorgeous countryside on our way to the village of Stanley at the very north west corner of the island. We passed through a region of farmland where steeply sloping hills covered in green grass supported herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, many appearing very bare and clean from their recent shearing. I commented to Sue that this area of northern Tasmania had some of the loveliest landscape we've seen anywhere, again confirming the many comments we'd heard about the beauty of this southern state. At one point we turned off on a small road towards the coast and encountered a farm growing tulips, some of them still spreading in a profusion of deep yellow and purple hues. We stopped at a lookout nearby for a brief look over the sea cliff. The howling wind off the turbulent seas below and the gray scudding clouds made for less than idea site seeing conditions, so we were soon back in the warmth of the car, continuing westward.

Unfortunately the weather worsened as we approached Stanley and by the time we checked into our cabin, the wind was almost gale force producing a banging and clanking as it shook the cabin's metal walls. Happily it seemed to be well anchored and didn't, as I feared it might, blow off into the night like Dorothy's cabin leaving Kansas for Oz.

Stanley is a quaint and charming little town built at the base of a large rock hill at the end of a spit of land that resembled a sort of a mini Gibraltar. Some old stone buildings, wood-sided cottages with colorful flower gardens, and the mandatory hotel and pub, lined the two or three streets that made up the main part of the town. Their version of Gibraltar was called The Nut and it loomed over Stanley like a giant sea wall protecting the town from the northern winds and seas lashing the coast. There was a chair lift going up from the town to the summit of The Nut, or for those in great shape, an almost vertical footpath. But both options were out of the question this day as the wind and rain had shut down the lift and neither of us would be taking the challenging pedestrian route. We were hoping for better the next day to perhaps get to the top, but although the wind had died down the next morning, a thick blanket of sea fog had enveloped the rock, leaving only flitting images of green grass and black granite as momentary holes in the fog passed by the cliff face. Still our day in Stanley was very pleasant despite the weather and we drove around the area, visited an historic farm nearby and generally took in the very English-like ambiance of the town.

The next morning, November 19th, we set off on a drive to Cradle Mountain National Park in the very heart of the island. Although only 250 kms away, the drive along the narrow country roads which snaked through the green pasture lands and roller coasted over the frequent hills, seemed interminable and it was late afternoon before we finished our climb to the island's central mountain range. After checking into a cabin, we drove into the national park along a narrow road through thickly forested hills until after 6 or 7 kms we reached the end of the track at a lake which was bounded at the far end by a high ridge of jagged mountains. In a way it was like Lake Louise with the towering mountains at the end of the lake, but certainly no where near as awesome as that jewel of Canada's Rocky Mountain lakes. We had a short walk along a path beside the lake and Sue carried on a little further while I sat near an old wooden boat house and enjoyed the view. Cradle Mountain and Wineglass Bay are the two most famous Tasmanian sights, and neither of them lived up to expectations, but this was more than made up for by the rest of the country which was more beautiful than expected.

On our way back to our cabin we detoured on to another small track that wound up into the forest and after a few minutes came to a deserted parking lot where an old and now unused wooden house stood. It was called Waldheim and was the first lodge in the park, built by a Swiss man who fell in love with the place and worked hard to have the area made into a National Park. It's a bit of an eerie place especially when, upon entering the dim interior, you step onto the decaying and creaky floorboards and unexpectedly encounter the ghostly reflections reflected in a pane of glass, lifesize cardboard models of the owner and friends, dressed in period costumes. One's first thought is of a haunted house, but of course that couldn't be the case....right?

On the treed and grassy slope outside the old building we encountered two native animals we hadn't seen before. A couple of small marsupials called pademelons were hopping around feeding on the grass and leaves of bushes. These little creatures are sort of a cross between a large rat and a small kangaroo and today exist only on the island of Tasmania. And just as we were about to drive off, we noticed a movement to the side of the road and a large wombat ambled slowly across the parking lot looking a bit like a small furry pig. It was neat to see these species which we had read about but hadn't expected to encounter. And the next morning we were to see another of Tasmania's animal icons.

After checking out of our cabin, we drove back towards the park to the Tasmanian Devil Sanctuary. This “sanctuary” was recently opened with the objective of breeding Tasmanian Devils in captivity and also educating the public about these interesting animals. At one time the Devils inhabited much of Australia but have died out on the mainland and now exist only here in Tasmania. The little animals are actually very cute being about the size of a small dog, with soft black fur and inquisitive brown eyes. The little beasts have a reputation as being ferocious killers, but they are infact scavengers who use their powerful jaws to crush and devour other animals' kills or the abundant road kill on Tasmania's roads. Although not exactly social animals in the sense of a pet dog or cat, they are not aggressive and the one brought in to the visitor centre by one of the trainers seemed quite happy to be held as it snuggled into her neck, its little paws clinging solidly to her shoulders. We watched a fascinating film about the life cycle of the Devil and then wandered among the pens where several of them sat and looked at us or chased each other around the enclosure. These Devils are being raised here in captivity not as zoo animals for public display ( although that is a result) but rather to try to breed a population that is free from the killer cancer that is being spread through the Tasmanian Devil population. For the last few years a terrible facial tumor (most unusually for a cancer it is contagious) which is spread by physical contact or sharing food, has been sweeping through the population and threatens to drive the Devils into extinction. The trainer said the the terrible disease eats away their faces and jaws eventually resulting in them being unable to eat. The disease is fatal in all cases. The trainer said the species could be extinct within ten years if this continues and so far scientists have been unable to find a way to prevent or eradicate the cancer. So places such as this sanctuary are trying to preserve the Devils through a breeding program though the small gene pool could very well prevent it from being successful. We found the little creatures to be just delightful and we can only hope that some way is found to continue their existence.

We hadn't expected to be long visiting the Devil Sanctuary, but we'd been there nearly two hours so had to drive along pretty smartly as we were headed to Hobart that evening. At this point I should just talk a little about an interesting part of Australian sports life...cricket. Not many people outside the cricket playing countries would know that that Aussies are the worlds best cricket players. (Why is it that a country with such a small population can produce some of the world's best athletes in nearly every sport imaginable??) Anyway, it is now cricket season in Australia and the first of the seasons Test Match tours were underway. Like Bill Bryson in his hilarious description of a cricket radio commentary in In A Sunburned Country, we too could usually only pick up the “play by play” of the cricket test, and strangely enough I began to look forward to hearing it as it seemed to make the time go by. But perhaps I will extract Bryson's commentary as he says it best:

Listening to cricket commentary on radio, according to Bryson, is "like listening to two men sitting in a rowboat on a large, placid lake on a day when the fish aren’t biting; it's like having a nap without losing consciousness. It actually helps not to know quite what’s going on. In such a rarefied world of contentment and inactivity, comprehension would become a distraction.” Bryson continues with his version of the announcers' commentary: "Neasden, it appeared, was turning in a solid performance at square bowel, while Packet had been a stalwart in the dribbles, though even these exemplary performances paled when set beside the outstanding play of young Hugh Twain-Buttocks at middle nipple. The commentators were in calm agreement that they had not seen anyone caught behind with such panache since Tandoori took Rogan Josh for a stiffy at Vindaloo in '61. This was repeated four times more over the next two hours and then one of the commentators pronounced: 'So as we break for second luncheon, and with 11,200 balls remaining, Australia are 962 for two not half and England are four for a duck and hoping for rain.'

Bryson is quite the card, but he captures the essence of the broadcast which is of course deadly boring, but somehow becomes addictive. The “tourists” (team on tour of Australia) were the Sri Lankans and they had been beaten in the first “Test” held in Brisbane, by “an innings and 98 runs” which all you cricket aficionados will know is a sound thrashing. The second Test match, which was being held in Hobart, had started the previous Friday and was wrapping up its five day run today. Play starts at 10:00 and continues to 6:00 pm with various breaks for drinks, lunch and tea. (They are nothing if not refined these cricketers!) So as we headed south I was entertained by the often comical commentary of the announcers and the colorful descriptions of the play with all its strange terminology. Where else can you hear a sports commentary with phrases like: “Patterson takes up position at silly mid off”, “And what a disaster for Sri Lanka as Coojurumbi is out for a golden duck”, “Surely it must be leg before wicket”, “What a lovely stroke for four, straight through the covers”, etc. I actually started to understand what was going on after several days of listening to this! And by the way, Australia won the second and much more exciting match, on the last afternoon when the final Sri Lankan batter was bowled out just 20 minutes after lunch!

But back to our trek southward. When we left Cradle Mountain, we hadn't planned where to stop that night, other than we would see where we got to and stay somewhere north of the city. As we got further south, Sue checked our accommodation guides but couldn't find much in the way of caravan parks on our route, so we were starting to get a little concerned as we reached the hills to the north of Hobart. Sue did come across an ad for a place called the Heimat Chalets which were advertised as self-contained accommodation, so we decided we check them out. We thought they were just off the main road, so we were a bit dismayed to come across a sign for the chalets pointing up into the hills and reading 7 kms. It was getting late and if they turned out to be a dive, we'd have to turn around the retrace our route and look for something else...probably a motel in the city. But as sometimes happens we discovered an absolute gem of a place.

We followed the road which rose precipitously through farmland and forests till we were near the summit of a high hill with a magnificent sweeping view of the green valley below. An small sign which we almost missed pointed us down a farm yard track for a few hundred metres where we came across a large modern house sitting at the crest of the hill overlooking the valley. As we got out of our cars a woman about our age came out to greet us and before long we were settled into one of her two “chalets” which turned out to be small two bedroom houses just down the hill from the main house. For just a few dollars more than we'd paid the night before for a wooden cabin in the woods, we had this wonderful, comfortable house equipped with every mod con we could ever need. The woman Maxine, was Australian but was married to a Swiss fellow named Henry (changed from Heinrich). Their business had taken the” Hei” from him and the “Ma” from her and added “t” for Tasmania to form Heimat which coincidentally in German apparently means “homeland”. This was eerily similar to the business name chosen by our good friend John in England. He called his consulting business Neimat, combining letters from his sons Neil and Matthew. Anyway we very much enjoyed our night in this cozy house perched on a hill, despite the scudding clouds, strong wind and intermittent rain that pelted the area.

After a long chat with the friendly proprietors we were again on our way, heading in to Hobart and our last day in Tasmania. As it turned out, we were on the road which passed the Cadbury Chocolate factory. We'd been thinking about taking one of their tours so we decided to pull in and see if we could get a tour. These tours are so popular that you are supposed to book in advance to assure a place, but I guess it wasn't too busy on this Wednesday morning as we were able to secure a spot on a tour setting off in just a few minutes. We had a little introductory talk from a young tour guide who reminded me of our son Ryan and said they were very concerned with safety and with not introducing any foreign materials to the factory floor where they might contaminate the pure Cadbury chocolate. As a result, everyone had to don hairnets and the guys, like me, who had any facial hair, had to put nets over their faces. Everyone had to remove any jewelry including rings, earrings, piercings, etc., all in the name of hygiene I guess. So we set off and spent about 45 mins looking at pipes, conveyor belts, mixing vats, etc. all the time being surrounded by the intense smell of chocolate. The tour wasn't overly exciting actually, though the best part was watching the robotic arms that would pick up chocolates from a passing conveyor belt, scan them with a laser to decide what the shape was, and then place them perfectly in one of many differently shaped receptacles in the chocolate box....all at blinding speed. We were cautioned not to handle anything in the factory, and by no means steal a sample from the conveyor belts laden with different Cadbury goodies, but we were each given a little box of miniature bars at the end of the tour. Oz is a country of chocolate lovers, consuming, on average per capita, nearly 5kg of chocolate and Cadbury has had to expand its production capacity significantly to keep up with demand.. Despite this obesity-promoting intake, Australia ranks only 13th on world list, Ireland, strangely enough, being the world's leading chocolate eating nation.

So with our sweet tooth satisfied for the day, we continued into Hobart and after stopping for a walk and lunch at the Botanical Gardens, checked in at the hotel we'd pre-booked for our last night. We returned our rental car and walked around the downtown area, Sue doing some souvenir shopping while I sought out an internet hotspot. And as I was walking along a pedestrian mall while Sue was in one of the shops, my eyes fixed on a sight that stopped me in my tracks. There on the corner was a green and white sign we'd been searching for in every town we'd been in since leaving Sydney nearly 7 months previously. I went back and grabbed Sue saying it was time for a coffee, despite it being 5:00 pm. I escorted her along the mall till it came in sight for her. Her mouth dropped open and she let an a happy cry of “Oh my god!!”. Yes folks we had finally found a long sought-after Starbucks, the first we'd seen in Australia. It turned out this was the only one in Tasmania, though we hear there a few in Sydney and we have since found another in Noosa north of Brisbane. But on this cool afternoon, we made a beeline for the counter and were delighted to see the usual array of Starbuck products. We've given the song and dance about our frustrations with getting a cup of coffee in Oz in previous entries, so suffice it to say we savored every drop of the delicious brew which was just the same as we get at home. An unexpected but fitting way to end our visit to Tasmania.

The next morning we were up well before 5:00 to get out to the airport for our 7:00 a.m. flight We had a lovely sunrise as we rode the shuttle out to the airport casting a golden glow over the harbour and hills surrounding the city. It was our last view of this beautiful island which we had thoroughly enjoyed and will not soon forget. But, we were looking forward to our visit with Mike and Cheryl, so we were feeling pretty chipper as we stepped out of Brisbane airport into the hot Queensland sun, and headed off to Noosa to the north.




This is a view of some of the remaining buildings at Port Arthur
The "Pententiary" as it was kown was a dormitory for prisinors

A single isolation cell where some people spent years

An example of the more civilized parts of Port Arthur, the church

Some scnery around Hobart

This was the sister boat to the one we went on for our trip along the coast taken at the outset in the calm bay where we started out.

Robb set for rough weather. At one point his cap blew off and they had to stop the boat and retrieve it from the sea with a long fish hook

The Monument. We zoomed between cliff and the pinnacle rock at full speed.

Some of the coastline

One of many caves and bridges we saw

The Friars rocks

Back on land on our drive north we came across this group of school children. All children wear school uniforms and hats (when outside) are cumpulsory

The beach at Bisheno

We found several Little Penguins sitting in clefts in these rocks

Cute Little Penguin

Wine Glass Bay

A beach in Freycinet National Park where we sat on the beach on our last warm and sunny afternoon in Tassie. The weather turned dull and cool after that.

Some of the old colonial buildings in Launceston

The island was a wash of color such as these Martha Washingtons growing by a beach on the north coast.

More of the picturesque scenery in norther Tasmania with beautiful yellow tulips being cultivated.

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