I have not made a post for a few days. Camping and low signal is tough to upload photos to the server. I wrote most of this on the Spirit of Tasmania II on our trip home. I plan to upload it at the airport after Mitchell drops me off. He plans to continue driving towards South Australia but I will return home to my dogs and work.
We stayed a night at Sommers Bay on Monday which was an afternoon to do laundry and take a shower. Not much to report this day at all.
Our trip to Port Arthur was quiet, being a Tuesday morning we didn’t see that many tourists or any school groups and we had a quiet tour with a few others around the area, learning the history. I love history and the way they guarded the peninsula is very well known.
The boys prison across the bay, having been mostly pulled down and there being nothing to see there anymore, would have been a tough site. Around 3,000 kids at one stage who decided to kill one of their guards due to his cruelty.
For $13, we camped at Fortescue Camping Ground, I stayed with the camp site while Mitchell picked up dinner. I was overrun with possums. Defending my things against theft. They largely ignored me when I tried to shoo them away. Mitchell got bitten when he tried to pat one. Did not draw blood. Still has a mark though. There was also a wallaby getting quite close.
These fellow mammals were much too comfortable in our settlement in their territory for the night. Securing all food and smelly things we went to bed with noises heard through the night. Below is a video (When I can upload it properly).
Our journey on Wednesday was to travel towards Freycinet National Park. Visiting the Tessellated Pavements on the way and the dog line.
We set up our tent in a recluse camp ground free of charge. No other visitors here. I don’t believe I took a photo of this one. It was ready to crawl into when we returned after doing a penguin tour in Bicheno. Bicheno was recommended to us by a man named Brett (a tug boat operator from Newcastle) we met twice on Bruny Island in the Bruny Island Hotel. We subsequently saw Brett again at the tessellated pavements.
We did the 12km Freycinet walk on Thursday. I took a box of weak cold and flu tablets, mastering the bushman’s blow. Wheezing the whole way. Comments were rightly made on my heavy breathing. Powered through the last 4km to a podcast to take the mind off of the dreary emptiness and deafness of the mind which comes with the common cold.
We paid our National Park tax once again for this single day bush walk, a vehicle entry to Freycinet National Park was an extraordinary $44 for the day. We both became somewhat frustrated on this trip with the cost to visit a national park that is meant to be for everyone. We should have purchased a season pass but didn’t really do the maths when visiting Cradle Mountain as it was advertised as being seperate to the rest. We later learnt you can include it all in a bundle. Still, we pay taxes dammit! I was especially not happy about subsidising non-tax payers. There was also an absurd number (4) of disabled parking spots at the beginning of a busk walk that takes you either 6km return or a 12km circuit (and no, the information centre had a separate car park 2km back down the road). Funnily enough no disabled parking spaces were occupied. Is this criticism too harsh of me?
In any case, it was a great walk. We saw the marvellous Wine Glass Bay. Mitchell described it as “perfection” as he stood on the shoreline admiring the view.
Walking across to Promise Bay seeing shells that were intact and uncrushed by human feet. I tried to imagine, as I often do, how our 4 billion year old planet has changed over that great expanse of time. How long does it take sand and beaches to form? We saw fossils of 20 million year old shell creatures earlier in our trip.
Saw another bird I was able to identify to tick off my imaginary list as an undedicated bird watcher, being a Grey Fantail.
For the night of Thursday, after the walk, Mitchell found a very good deal on a motel with a laundry in Launceston. It rained all night so this was a good plan. Everyone we ran into told us how dry Tasmania is and that it gets no rain, that this is the driest season they have had. But it was at least sprinkling every 10 minutes since we arrived. The tent had certainly never been packed up dry. Constantly wet. As we waited for the clothes to dry we definitely had a laugh or two. Ordered Japanese via Uber Eats, watched Person of Interest in the lounge room. Discussing the emerging capabilities of AI.
On the way from Launceston to Devonport I stopped to visit my cousin I hadn’t seen for quite some time. It was good to catch up with him. Mitchell and I met my other cousin (his sister) in London last year. He gave Mitchell some great tips on touring the Northern Territory with sights to see.
As we drove towards the ferry, Mitchell was quite critical that the day we leave Tasmania is the day the sun starts to shine. It was becoming a nice warm day outside.
As we waited to board the ferry we laughed at the hilarity of my constant sickness during our holidays, Mitchell excitedly imagined the moment tomorrow morning he would get to kick my sore aching body out onto the concrete pavement of Melbourne airport. Throwing my things out of the passenger door at the same time and revving his Ford Mustang engine as he sped off on his extended holiday towards South Australia. Given his typical forgetfulness, I proposed that he would likely forget something in the car that belonged to me. Upon realising this, he would tear around the airport concourse loop at high speed returning to my position to also throw that last item out of the car at me as I left in bewilderment, glad to be done with him as well.
I accidentally directed us to the wrong airport at Melbourne. Realising when it was a far smaller airport than I remembered.
It was a wonderful trip and I am very grateful for the experience.