The only other time I have travelled to Tasmania, was in the period of…
– pink-checkered blouse (yes, blouse, cos it had a rounded collar and a little bow to tie under the collar)
– navy, fine-cut cord overalls that were tucked into
– brown boots.
I still clearly remember sitting on the ground in the Ye Olde Water Mill (perhaps not it's real name) hotel in Launceston, doing the fold in the lower leg of the overalls that was necessary to shove them into the boots.
I was totally on my fashion game for the time – it was the late 70's.
I also clearly remember our flight down there being via Melbourne, and as we taxied to the runway at Tullamarine, I pointed to bags on a trolley on the ashphalt telling my mother they looked like ours.
Of course, she said they weren't.
Of course, we landed in Tassie bagless.
I was supposed to fly down to see my good friend, Shots (the only reason that could drag me there, as I was quite happy to poopoo the state at every opportunity) back in July last year but had to postpone due to the Chilean volcano ash. I was one of the few people who had no problem at all with Qantas cancelling flights due to possible safety issues relating to the ash. I prefer not to risk a crash, thanks, and flew in September instead.
Spotted some snow, over Victoria..
It had been a warm day in Sydney, but I was anticipating some cold weather closer to the pole.
I had joked about Melbourne keeping my bags as I flew down, but shut up with fear when I saw the plane that was taking me on the short leap over Bass Strait
It was TINY!
That equates to more-reason-to-get-scared, for me.
* Some artistic licence is being employed here with my photo selection – the dull day being the day I left, and the blue sky is the mini plane on my return journey – but hey, it's my blog. I can if I want.
It's five steps!
That's closer to the ground than I like to be…
From the mainland….
…
..to the island…
I took the whole waiting-at-the-carousel-until-there-were-no-more-bags pretty well I thought. Attended to by the friendly, 'Steve', I was informed my missing bag would be flown down from Melbourne that afternoon and delivered straight to my door in Launceston.
Only problem was, we were headed to Hobart for a night out in the 'big smoke'. I was assured this would be no problem and my bag would be delivered to me in Hobart shortly after I arrived there myself.
Shots and I hightailed it to Hobart. Via a winery.
In Launceston the nearest winery is adjacent to the airport. That's excellent town planning, I think.
We restrained ourselves.
Passing through the historic, Campbell Town, I learned from my tour guide…
virtually nothing. But she did point out this old bridge…
and passed on to me the sage advice that if I'd seen a photo of something or somewhere, then I'd as good as seen it.
And so it continued in that manner, 'Tassie – as told by Shots'.
While she may not have told it so well, she was, however, extremely accommodating with pulling over for me to take happy snaps EVERYWHERE. Her paitience was her virtue, and needs to be commended.
The winery, between Campbell Town and Hobart (I know, I need to be a little more contemporary with these posts, lest I forget the details) was rustic and inviting.
I loved the shutter open and close system
But I was a little taken aback when I was asked to pay $5 upfront to taste the wines – refundable of course, if you buy a bottle. This was the go at almost every winery in Tassie. At one stage I asked if I would still have to pay if I spat after tasting (indicating I was not there for some free grog, but rather to discover new ones to buy), but was told it didn't matter, I still had to pay. In the cases where they only had two or three wines that I would be interested in, they lost my business, as I was unwilling to pay $5 when I could genuinely not find any wine I wanted to drink.
Sam was happy to have me there, I think. She looks pretty excited in this pic
It was evening when we got to Hobart, and still no bag. We went out for some dinner, and desert
and a small drink down by the water, but gawd I was cold in my Sydney clothes!
Next day, in warm clothes, I had a stroll around the waterfront
to Salamanca markets, taking in the 'Bart's cosmopolitan side. Great market, with yummy food, and the type of gifts that you go to a market hoping to find, but rarely do.
Apple isle apples
Tassie is no longer just famous for it's apples, it's now a huge producer of gourmet foods, and, as accommodating as Sam was in her chauffering/tour guide role, I think I need a return visit to explore them all.
I did marvel a little at the architecture of Hobart.
It appears that the CBD experienced an expansion and building boom around the 60's and 70's and, perhaps as a reflection of the cool clime, took a rather big leaf out of the Handbook of Eastern Bloc Functional Architecture….
and my personal favourite
the inviting Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery….
Even the oh so cool MONA (Museum of Old and New Art) seems to be following suit with it's austere facade.
But the onsite accommodation, on the other hand…
overlooking the river. Look at the bed up in that window! Love it. Sonny….??….
The MONA is a private collection owned by David Walsh, seen here in this interview to be an affable kind of bloke, happy to thumb his nose at the prudish and/or god-fearing, and very down to earth, despite being extremely wealthy. Who says you can't make money from gambling?
Guided through the menagerie with an ipod (without any reading glasses, and an adversity to all things 'i'), I left most of the art appreciation to what I could see. The grotesque and macabre of a carny circus, smattered with some S and M, and porn themes. In a nutshell, it's art that I love, because it draws me away from the regular, it moves me, and makes me think.
Having said that, my favourite piece (below) wasn't even remotely controversial. Julius Popps', Bit.Fall
Cloaca Professional, by Belgian, Wim Delvoye, aims to reproduce a digestive system including…
..the end result..
…complete with a faint smell, enough to make me choose not to linger too long.
There is a bar inside the museum
but the MONA also boasts it's own winery, and brewery.
At $10 a pop for wine tasting and a high price per bottle at the cellar door on top of it, we declined the tasting and opted, instead, for a cheese platter at the restaurant accompanied by a nice, local, pinot gris.
While the wall of plaster-casted vaginas ('The Great Wall of Vagina' by Jamie McCartney) has now made way for new work, the MONA is on my highly recommended list, and, dare I say it, worth the trip to Tassie just to see it.
The following day, this time out of Launceston, I had Sam on another punishing schedule of driving me around the countryside.
Breakfast was at the cellar door of Jansz. A sparkling wine maker, somewhat cheekily coining the term, Methode Tasmanoise.
Sadly, I've never been a fan of this particular bubbly, but we picked up some 'healthy' nibbles there, to tide us over
Sharing the Jansz Tamar Valley location is the Piper's Brook winery. I'm glad I tasted there, as I really enjoyed the pinot gris and have bought more since returning to Sydney.
Heading east, we stopped in at Yondover Farm, choosing (not too surprisingly) a cheese plate for lunch
this one, made by these guys…
The road to Freycinet has some lovely scenery of the windswept coastal variety.
I really love a farm next to the ocean
And proving that too much cheese is never enough, around afternoon tea time I found myself buying a lovely, mild cheddar.
We arrived in Freycinet not long before sunset, only to discover the much lauded beauty of Wineglass Bay is only accessible through the bush, on foot. We had neither the time, nor inclination for a bushwalk at that stage, and hey, I'd seen the pictures!
Coles Bay was pretty lovely.
Sam was a little toey about driving back in the dark, so I offered to drive. It's 100 or so km back inland to the freeway, but the road is pretty straight, and empty of any other traffic – at least of the mechanical variety.
But, holey hell! I have never had to swerve around, and slow down, for so many wildlife on any stretch of road. Eight separate animals wandered into the path of the car. I think I managed to see all of Tassie's larger mammals in that one drive. It wouldn't have surprised me if a bloody Tassie Tiger walked over to the centre line, next!
Dinner was not cheese.
It was delicious and hearty pub fare. So hearty, in fact, that Shots asked for a doggie bag. The waitress said she would check with the chef.
Which we thought was a little odd.
But she came back and gave Sam a plastic container – for Sam to fill herself.
Weird, filling your own doggie bag!
The last day of my whirlwind trip saw me tasting honeys at Chez Sam
yum
Doing a portrait of my delightful host – a shot of Shots
which we didn't take too seriously
and, of course she doesn't love my favourite…
And having a quick look around the Design Centre, which has some stunning sculptural furniture and household pieces, and proves even more that Tassie has a lot more to offer than the occasional six-fingered hand.
Of course, there are still dark spots on the hip-o-meter, but the natural beauty (of which I saw only the tip of the iceberg), the gourmet producers, the wine, and the art will have me returning soon. Just hope my bags travel with me next time.
Back at Launceston airport, Steve was there again to inform me my flight was delayed. I suggested to him that with the lost bag issue and now a delay, perhaps I may get an upgrade from Melbourne?…
I did.
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