Living on the lighthouses was sort of like that TV show, ‘Round the Twist’ in more ways than you think!
Forty South Tasmania
When I finished my 3-day Three Capes Track hiking experience earlier this year I realised after pitching to many publications that I probably needed to tell this story in the land it was set. So the lovely people at Forty South Magazine, a magazine I have long admired and read, took me up on my offer of tourism travel blog with a side of memoir. Enjoy 🙂
I have scanned the magazine as best I could.
Heaven is a remote paradise. Ansons Bay is two hours drive from one remote mountain paradise, Myrtle Bank in northeast Tasmania, to the ocean and the Bay of Fires.
Note: I have written about this trip before with more details and links. A link to my previous trip is at the end of this piece.
Forest flashes past with green speed. Man ferns (person ferns?) tower over shrubs and shade rocky outcrops from the dappled sun. Moss underfoot (were I walking) so spongey and vital, green and alive. Gradually the landscape changes to become coastal plains. Dust flicks from the wheels of the speeding car and sea mist coats the distant outline of coastal hills, a blanket, slightly damp and salty.
The breeze plays gently with this morning’s swimwear pegged at a jaunty angle on the green plastic clothesline cord. Op shop pegs. The bathers brush provocatively against the towel as rain threatens our previously sunny disposition.
Pending rain and it looks like it will be a laydown on last night’s sandy sheets for a nap, drifting off to the sound of pitter patter on the roof. The birds rejoice. Sandy feet and skin soft from salt water immersion in the sandy shallows at Policeman’s Point followed by a cool rainwater rinse.
Dad washes the dishes outside on the tank stand before the rain sets in “we won’t have to rinse these!” he says. A car passes on the road with mountainbikes atop ready for action in Australia’s mountain bike capital – the formerly sleepy town of Derby. He pauses his washing and looks up, a single word escaping his lips, “Derby” and returns to his dishes oblivious to other sounds with his earbuds in.
Evening drinks in the Caravan seated on unmade beds with sandy feet. A spur of the moment walk down to the shore for exercise and “to blow out the cobwebs”. Children play along the shore, taunting one another with names and actions. They freeze as we approach and say “Hi” selfconsciously.
The sand is soft and the weed underfoot squelches through toes. We leave the shore and walk along the road past houses bunkering down for the evening. Smoke escapes some chimneys despite the warmth of this summer night. A border collie strains on its chain and barks a warning, or is it an invititaion?
A bit further on a tall Bennett’s Wallaby speeds across the road in front of us. We freeze and watch her bounding retreat.
A trip to St Helens for supplies, op shopping and fish and chips. It’s a tradition and a necessity. We get to town in time for date scones and coffee at our favourite cafe, then it’s meandering from op shop to tip shop, to op shop again. We fill the back of the car with our treasures – clothes, bric a brac, books and jewellery.
By lunch time we are ready for fish and chips on the wharf. Families wait on the jetty while the delicious smell of fresh fish wafts across the water. Young children with fishing lines cast hopefully into the bay.
Back to Ansons Bay for a siesta and plans for mussell foraging in the shallows, later that evening.
It’s all sunshine and blue sky on the bay. A great day for a paddle? Feelers have already been put out for a kayak to borrow, but no reply, so a trip to the beach it is. We always stop and chat to the cows.
A final swim at Policeman’s Point where the tide is out. The blues astonish with their depth of field, water of varying depths and colours. The tide is receding fast – there is only time for a quick dip and out. We finish with a walk along the beach before going back to pack up camp to head for home.
Fold up beds, clear out perishables, leave no crumbs for the ants, turn off the gas, the water and lock all the doors. Packing is frantic and some get left behind. But is there another way?
On our way home we stop to check out the Little Blue Lake just out of Gladstone. Astounding colours that could only be created by a disruption to the environment – an old mining site.
The trip back to Myrtle Bank is the reverse with a stop in to Scottsdale for pies and pasties, sneaky lamingtons washed down with Farmer’s Union Coffee on sidewalk tables. A chat with some locals – lean in for some town gossip, familiar and warm.
Groceries purchased, and a final browse of the local op shops, we pass the remainder of the trip uneventfully. Happy to get back to showers and comfy chairs. Back to mountain paradise! Check out another trip to this part of the world here.
Early in 2023 I decided to focus my writing more towards travel and adventure. Travel writing is my passion – it doesn’t even feel like a job!
I also pledged to write an All In A Day piece every couple of weeks – Short adventures and musings that may or may not involve travel. I have loved this challenge and will continue for the forseeable future. Some of these experiences have become paid gigs that have been, or are about to be published in print or online.
While web content and copywriting (sometimes) pays the bills, and I enjoy the lifestyle freelance copywriting has allowed me to have, it doesn’t bring me the same joy of a well-worded travel piece or blog .
With changing economic times and AI thrown into the mix those web content and copywriting gigs have become more scarce. When businesses realise they can’t trust their business brand to AI there may be a turn around. But, until then travel writing has my back.
I hope you enjoy my blog. Unfortunately (or fortunately) if you spend time in my company you may also end up in my stories. I will always do my best to represent you in the shiniest way possible 🙂
Part 3 of “All in a day” takes me and two good friends to see the highs and more highs of Hobart town!
Hobart – the highs and the higher
January 2023
Travel companions: three enthusiastic Australians from the west
Our first morning in Hobart, Tasmania started like most days during our Tassie travels. Coffee and breakfast were on the agenda. We arrived in Hobart the previous day – all of us had met at MoMA (Museum of Modern Art) and ended our day with drinks at the Shamrock before sending Elaine on her way to help prepare for a wedding.
The previous morning, Leanne had enjoyed a delicious breakfast at the café down the road from our digs, Straight up. A vegetarian café with a delightful selection of vegetarian and vegan options and great coffee.
We were heading up the mountain that looms over Hobart town, kunanyi (Mt Wellington), that morning, so we headed to Straight Up for breakfast which was incredible. Some takeaway donuts were purchased for snacks should we get hungry during our mountain adventure!
Kunanyi and its foothills are the traditional lands of the Muwinina people. It is situated on an 18,011-ha reserve on the doorstep of nipaluna, lutruwita. The mountain is 1270m high and features some fantastic dolerite rock formations and a range of alpine vegetation. Kunanyi has a range of walks and hikes suited to climbers of all experience levels. The truly fit (or truly crazy) cycle to the top and enjoy a downhill run.
We drove our car up. The mountain is very close to Hobart city centre, and it took us about 45 minutes to reach the top. We were treated with a clear view and completely still conditions. The last time I had summited Wellington, I was making snow angels, and it was the middle of winter. The locals say it is a mountain of many moods.
We took advantage of the ideal conditions, explored the boardwalks, and ventured part-way down the zig-zag trail to get some photos. Tourists in their droves took selfies and group photos from every vantage point. The quiet side of the mountain where the Zig Zag trail starts was the most peaceful part.
Photos snapped and views admired; we decided that a swim was in order (as you do when in Tassie and the temperature is over 23 degrees). We chose the shores of Sandy Bay under the shadow of Wrest Point Casino, Australia’s first casino. Sandy Bay is a well-to-do suburb in Hobart, not far from the city centre, with beautiful beaches on the banks of the Derwent River.
The surf lifesavers were set up on the beach, and the sun was shining, so we changed and plunged into the cool waters of the bay. Nice once you were in! The water was clear, and the bottom sandy like its namesake.
We devoured the delicious donuts from Straight Up. They were amazing, filled with chocolate, jam, and custard, and coated in sugar. Then, sand and sugar-coated, we showered in the freshwater showers, got dressed, and went to find a supermarket for our supplies back at the hostel were running low.
It’s a good time to talk about our digs. We decided to stay at the Pickled Frog, a backpackers in Liverpool Street. Leanne had booked the deluxe apartment, “Frog Apartment,” with her own kitchen, bathroom, and a chandelier! Wendy and I went for the shared room with the general hoi polloi. I am no stranger to backpacker accommodation, so I expected lots of young people and possible loud noise, which is pretty much what it was. However, it was okay for a few days and had us situated in the middle of Hobart, close to the restaurants and a walk from Salamanca Place.
Sleep was broken with comings and goings all hours of the night and day and alarms going off super early for those who lived and worked in Hobart. However, it was reasonably priced, and the people running the hostel were super friendly and helpful. I will also say, I am no stranger to broken sleep and noisy nights being a frequenter of music festivals – but maybe my youth hostel days are over?
We returned to the hostel for a rest before the evening plans for eating oysters and taking in the docks commenced. The previous night had been spent at a delicious Greek Restaurant, Mezethes Greek Taverna, in Salamanca Place. The staff really went out of their way to make us comfortable and welcome. The food was deluxe, and we started with a small portion of oysters.
So we decided that more oysters were in order – Mures on the docks was my choice for a seafood feast. The multi-award-winning Mures is a Tasmanian institution. The Mures have served quality fish for over 45 years from various locations around Hobart.
The seafood did not disappoint. We washed down fresh oysters with Tasmanian beer and feasted on a shared seafood basket. The downstairs part of Mures, where we dined, is very casual, and the food is more suited to families and big gatherings. Whereas upstairs, the posh part of Mures serves seafood but in a more refined manner. We finished our massive meal with huge scoops of ice cream from the ice creamery inside the restaurant.
With hunger sated (or over-sated), we started our stroll back to the hostel, only to discover a shindig in progress in the local park. An Irish-style folk band had the crowd dancing and clapping – Craicpot was their name, and Irish jigs were their game. After eating and drinking so much, a wee dance was just what we needed, so we stayed and jigged and clapped until the band finished their set.
The park was crowded with locals and visitors eating food from food trucks and enjoying a family picnic on the lawn. It was the perfect ending to a day with us up mountains, swimming in the waters, and eating ourselves silly. Finally, we headed for bed (and hopefully sleep!) to ready ourselves for a visit to Salamanca Markets in the morning. Goodnight Hobart!
Week 2 – All in a day 2023 – a roadtrip to the east coast of Tasmania
Tassie Roadtrip – Northeast to Ansons Bay January 2023
Travel companions: two enthusiastic travellers from the West
With Mt Barrow looming, we left Myrtle Bank in the Northeast of Tasmania/lutruwita for the East Coast – Tasmania’s Bay of Fires. A convoy of two. Three adventurous women from Western Australia!
Ansons Bay, remote paradise (as the entrance sign declares) is on the Northeast coast of Tasmania. The Bay of Fires, situated on the land of the Palawa people, was described as such by the early explorers when they arrived on Tasmania’s shores to see fires burning. The eye-catching orange lichen that covers the coastal rocks in this part of the world contrasts directly with the wild blue seas and green coastal scrub.
Eddystone Point Lighthouse/lutruwita is the closest sentinel that keeps ships from the treacherous rocks of the area. The lighthouse is just inside Mt. William National Park and is accessible by a gravel road.
Our first stop was Scottsdale – around 40 kilometres from Myrtle Bank. Scottsdale is the small town where I went to high school, spent weekends with my best mate, and got up to all sorts of mischief—being an “out of towner,” I more often than not spent entire weekends in Scottsdale.
A stop in Scottsdale always entails a curly pasty at the Scottsdale Bakery, a browse in the op shops, and shopping for stores at Woollies. So, our op shop haul packed in the back, ice in the esky, food shopping done, and wine and beer purchased, we set off towards Derby, the mountain bike capital of Tasmania.
Derby was an ex-tin mining town with no future and cheap real estate before it became the darling of the Mountain Bike scene. Tasmania now boasts world-class mountain bike tracks, and people come from all over the world to travel the trails. It was here we used to go in the 80s to watch or compete in the Derby River derby – homemade craft set sail in the freezing waters over a weekend where Derby came to life for a moment only to go back into hibernation for the remaining 360 days of the year.
We stopped here for firewood and to call the Tasmanian Fire Department to get permission to light a fire on the block. The town of Derby was buzzing with bikes and people. A block in Derby that could be bought for next to nothing a decade or more ago now sells for six figures.
Gladstone, the last petrol station/shop/hotel before Ansons, was advertising a music festival that looked like it was heavy metal inclined for the coming Saturday night. A mutual agreement to bypass this particular musical offering was made without any discussion required.
The drive from Gladstone to Ansons Bay is via a gravel road and passes through some lush farming country where fresh-cut hay assaults the senses. The occasional copse of bush punctuates the trip. We had our eyes peeled for wombats and echidnas and were sad to observe roadkill that included wombats and Tasmanian Devils.
After around 30 minutes, we crested the hill and entered Ansons Bay. The view of the inlet and ocean beyond always takes my breath away. The inlet on this day was dark blue, and the ocean aqua – remote paradise indeed!
My block is a bush block sitting on the hill overlooking the bay, a mere 100 metres from the bay. Once the gate had been wrestled with, and we had given the caravan and shed annex a quick once over with the broom, we unpacked food, clothing, knitting, notebooks, novels, cameras, and games.
The beds could wait; it was time to go and check out the bay, where the local fishermen, pelicans, and dogs greeted us like long-lost friends. The water felt warm and was relatively clear, and the locals were curious.
“Where you from?”It seems everyone has a link to Western Australia, knows someone, or has lived there at some stage.
Our stroll took us past shacks and caravans of varying sizes – little, it seemed, had changed since my visit eight months earlier. Ansons Bay is like the holiday destination that time forgot. Electricity is available, but some properties, including mine, are not hooked to the grid. There is no petrol station, no shop and very little mobile coverage. The telephone tower was placed tantalisingly close but not close enough.
The locals have signposted an area just before you head down the hill into the town named “connection cove,” where you can pull in to answer emails and messages and update your socials. So close yet so far, and dare I say it – One Job!
We were feeling a bit warm, so we decided a swim was in order, and the nearby Policeman’s point was beckoning. The road out to Policeman’s Point is gravel and takes you to the inlet, where the brackish waters of the bay meet the pounding waves of the Tasman Sea. The tide was on its way out when we arrived at the popular camping site, exposing the vast sand flats, a popular fishing spot for campers and locals alike.
We immersed ourselves in the clear blue water, dodging blue bottles and rushing seaweed. The water was deliciously cooling without being too cold. It massaged our skin and washed away a week of business and travel. All that fresh air and salt water excited our senses, and suddenly all we could think of was nibbles and drinks. So we started back for camp only to discover Elaine had lost her phone. A trip back to the beach and the phone was right where she had dropped it!
The sun was still beating down at 5:00 pm, so we found some shade and set ourselves up with beers in hand and a tray full of delicious morsels. Never had anything tasted so good.
Even though it is nowhere near cool enough for a fire, we thought we should light one as we had permission to do so. The fire crackled at a distance, and our senses were loaded with everything that is good and fine in a remote paradise.
A day to remember and one of many to come.
All in a Day Adventures 