Tasmania

Our three days in Tasmania retrospectively fulfill all that everybody has ever said about Tas, it is lush and the weather rushes past on its way to somewhere else, never quite establishing itself as a this or that day, the sun shines and then it has to give way to a rush of cloud.  Everything is teeming, the sea with fish, the shore with crustaceans, the gardens with fruit, the hives with honey and the atmosphere is somehow teeming with dreams, perhaps you collide with the dreams of those who have dreamt here before.  We were in danger of sleeping like drugged people but in our waking moments we packed in a lot.  On the first morning we inspected that garden and all the fruit and Barbie's attempt to jam and dry the apricots before she starts on the plums.  We picked up eggs from the 3 hens who pottered around and once spotted were seen as definate producers of breakfast.  After a egg and apricot breakfast we were taken up to the top of Mount Wellington and then on in to Hobart.  From the top of the mountain which is made up of extraordinary rock formation, you can see for miles, miles of mountain and lake and little islands forced up by volcanic activity into the sea which definately was there first.  We went into Hobart which is quite a holiday spot with rather smart coffee shop and art gallery in an old jam factory.  We walked about the port chatting to a Greenpeace volunteer who was offering guided tours of the Steve Irwin, a boat which had been patrolling the whaling waters and which had been rammed by a Japanese whaler.  After lunch we returned to base, collected the bits for boating and just walked down straight in front of the house to collect the dinghy and board Honeywind.  This boat had been built by Philip and his father and had won many races in its time.  At the moment he is fitting it out for a prolonged round the world cruise and had interrupted his work to take us out for a few days to see the coast round this end of Tasmania.  The first night we lay in our bunk wondering if we should be frightened, the lightning flashed, the thunder roared, the rain poured, perhaps all those old spirits which teem in the air were coming to give a display of pyrotechnics.  However, we were in that Tassy state of brain meltdown so we gave up any idea of fear and went to sleep.  The following day we sailed around the islands glimpsing the coastline and seeing vineyards and little villages where Australians have now made into a great holiday spot.  The weather remained a bit blowy and so the more ambitious plans were shelved and we found a nice mooring near Woodbridge.  The names of places are good fun and jump up at you proclaiming the first person who got there and named it after home so Scottish names jostle with Cornish, Cornish with Dutch, and then good old East Anglia finds a place on the map.  We should just say how kind Philip and Barbie were to have us, what fun we had and how good it is to catch up with old friends.  We so appreciated all that they had done to get the boat ready and to give us a wonderful time which we wouldn't have missed for anything.

The next morning was much brighter and we sailed beautifully back towards Howden but stopping at a lovely beach where oysters lay waiting to be picked.  Liz and Barbie swam in wonderfully clear water and Philip and Richard collected a harvest of oysters.  Of course, opening them is more of an operation.  Interesting too that for us, these represent the smartest and most expensive dish on any menu but for the locals, they are just lying about cluttering up the beaches.  We sailed peacefully home, had a little sort out, and a final very good dinner and disappeared into that soporific state previously described.  

We left early the next morning and as the plane lifted back into the sky and we headed back towards Sydney, we felt our brains returning to a slightly more alert state.  I think that Tasmania is a bit like Devon, it casts its spell over you.  We found the book which Colin had recommended, In Tasmania by Nicholas Shakespeare in paperback at the airport and started reading it on the way home.  This was rather like reading your stars the next day, you find yourself thinking oh yes of course that was what it was,  and this description of Tasmania and its kaleidoscopic nature and packed past made a lot of sense of what we had experienced.  Highly recommend the visit but definately read the book as well.