Travel Reports
Tasmania
Imagine what it must be like to step off the edge of a map. Unless you are into space travel it’s not an experience many of us will have these days. Our world is pretty much mapped out, all the contours filled in, the rivers traversed and mountains climbed. So, it comes as a shock to remember that a scant few hundred years ago (a mere millisecond in the history of the universe) there was a race to ‘discover’ – and I realise I’m getting into political mud here - the mythical Southern Continent.
It was the Dutch who first set foot in Tasmania when the explorer Abel Tasman arrived in 1642. He named it Van Diemen Land, after his ‘illustrious master’, the Governor General of the Dutch East Indies, Anthony van Diemen, claiming it as “the first (land) we have met with in the South Seas, and not known to any other European nation.” Of course, if you take a World Atlas and trace your finger from Europe to Australia it’s incredible that Tasman missed that entire Australian coastland, but that’s what history states. I have a theory (admittedly not backed by fact) that he did arrive in Western Australia, and finding it so unspeakably hot went in search of more clement territory. He found it in just about the last place you can reach before you fall off the end of the world.
And yet, so much of Tasmania seems familiar; from the Alpine forests of the central Highlands, or the little fishing towns in the southwest with their neat brick cottages, to the rolling hills and lavender fields that surround the capital, Hobart. Indeed, when Captain Cook got here he must have thought he’d gone full circle and arrived back in his native Yorkshire! Today Hobart resembles an English market town with sturdy Victorian houses, pedestriansied streets and converted warehouses down by the waterfront (now chic hotels, restaurants and gift shops). Nor is the deception deflected by the street names; Liverpool Street, Warwick Street, Argyle Street.
The history books may state that the Dutch got here first, but they didn’t really win. By the early 17th century it had been visited by a host of explorers (including Cook and William Bligh), circumnavigated by the mariner Matthew Flinder and declared an island. In 1803 it was established as a British penal colony and among the settlers projects was the systematic destruction (through slaughter, abduction and rape) of the indigenous Aborigines. The Aborigines had been around for approximately 20, 000 years so they didn’t leave without a fight, but gradually their population was decimated to the current scant figure of 8500. It was still known as Van Diemen’s Land (Tasman didn’t get any recognition until much later when it was renamed Tasmania, confining Van Diemen to the history books - which is fine by me; men in suits should never have places named after them.) Then, over the next 50 years around 73, 500 convicts were transported from Britain for crimes ranging from political subversion to minor misdemeanours.
Port Arthur on the southernmost tip was established in 1830 and is now a Historic Site providing an enthralling insight into the convict experience. A favourite exhibit is the Convict Study Centre where you can search, via a computer database, for your ancestors and see if they ended up here (mine proved illusive, though there remains some suspicion on my mother’s side!) and for what reason. But it’s the museum, located in the former Lunatic Asylum, which gives you the best interaction; via a playing card you are handed at reception. Match the card to the convict and follow his (or sometimes her) movements from arrival to release (or death) through meals (‘coarse gruel), punishments (‘the treadmill’) and sporadic revolts. If you’ve the stomach, you can take the ferry out to the Isle Of The Dead, where 1100 former convicts and soldiers are buried, including Edward Carte, a new-born babe who was mistakenly given an overdose of opium, and William Madams, a juvenile delinquent whose diagnosis of “rheumatism of the ankle” was probably actually due to snake bite. Looking back at the bleak (and now half-ruined) site it’s easy to understand why it was chosen to “grind rogues honest.” It’s one of the most desolate places on earth. with nothing south until you hit the Antarctic.
Vessels on their way to the South Pole stop off in Hobart, while the city’s Antarctic Adventure apparently provides free access to a cold room, a simulated camp and a Sub Antarctic Plant House with plants that can survive icy winds. I chose instead to undergo another sensory experience and left my charming B&B, the gay owned Corinda’s Cottages (17, Glebe Street, +61 3 6234 1590) for a winery. Or two.
Wine tasting is an essential part of any visit and there are at least two major food and wine festivals held throughout the year; the Taste of Tasmania in Hobart (December/January) and the Taste of Huon (March). However, any time of the year is good to pop in to a boutique or family run winery and sample the goods, including some of the best Pinot Noir in the world, or some rare Sylvana varieties. My first stop was the Home Hill Winery (38 Nairn Street, Ranelagh), about a 30-minute drive south of Hobart in the Huon Valley. With its rammed earth restaurant and glass walls that open out on to stunning views across the valley, it’s is a place you long to linger, but, mindful that I had a long drive to the East coast and a date with a kayak, I showed restraint, grabbed a slug of Pinot Noir at the Meadowbank Estate (699, Richmond Road, Richmond) and headed off into the wilderness. A word of advice; because these are small wine producers most of the produce is expensive. But it also means little of it is for export, so if you do find something you like, sod the cost; buy a crate and have it shipped back home. You won’t regret it.
Before I reach the East Coast let me pause a second and recommend the drive from Port Arthur to Freycinet along the Wielangta Forest Drive. A 35 kilometre gravel track through temperate rainforest of massive Pine, Blue Gum and Eucalyptus trees, across rollicking hills that occasionally open out on to grand vistas and sneaky views across the landscape to the coast, this has to qualify as one of the Great Road Journey’s Of The World. My rented Holden Commodore made light work of it, but I would have loved a thunderous great 4WD to really do it justice.
Mercifully though, the rest of the journey is on tarmac roads, but do stop off at the lesbian-run Left Bank Coffee Shop (7, Maria Street) in the sleepy village of Swansea for a slice of Lemon Tart. Tasmania may not have a gay scene of any note, but plenty of gay and lesbian couples have moved here to set up in business. Attracted by the cheap real estate, high standards of living and a change in the law that transformed it – on paper – from the most intolerant Australian state to the most liberal, there are now so many the Tourist Board prints a map of Gay Tas’, which you can pick up in any Visitor Information Centre across the state.
In contrast to the south, Freycinet offers white sands and a warmer climate. At sunset the granite peaks along the peninsula are bathed in red and possums wander from their nests to scavenge for food. My guidebook described my accommodation, Freycinet Lodge, as ‘Top End,’ though I thought the rooms a little impersonal. Few places can boast such astonishing views, however, especially those across Coles Bay and back toward the National Park. With the forest alive to the sights and sounds of black cockatoos and yellow wattlebirds it’s a perfect place for hikers.
At daybreak with threatening rain I sprinted up the mountain to catch a view of Wineglass Bay before it disappeared behind the clouds. Although steep it is worth the effort; although the story behind the name is desperate. Shaped like a wineglass, for years the water was tinged with red from the blood of whales harpooned on their migration north to the Great Barrier Reef. Thankfully the whales are left alone these days and, having paused to catch my breath, I sprinted back down, passing two Pademelons sitting nonchalantly on a rock. I never knew these small relatives of the Kangaroo existed until I got here, but one of the delights of Australia is that just about every creature you come across doesn’t exist anywhere else in the world. The scenery may be Scotland but the animals are straight out of a fairy tale.
It can be distressing when you first arrive and all you see is road kill, so this is what you do; book yourself on a Bush Tour with Craig Williams and submit to your inner child. Craig runs Pepper Bush Adventures out of Scottsdale (65, King Street, +61 3 6352 2263) and he took me in his 4WD – at last – to the bush at night. As the light faded and my belly filled with fresh produce from his barbecue I watched in awe as hundreds of strange marsupials came out in search of food; Bennett’s Wallabies, Wombats, Possums and some insanely cute Quolls. These last came extremely close to our fire and Craig gave a perfect description when he called them “cats in spotted pyjamas.” Sadly there were none of the elusive Tasmanian Devil around, but it was hard not to act like a fifteen-year old who’d just discovered a wine cellar!
From Freycinet I headed due west to Cradle Mountain, with its spectacular peaks and lakes. The forest is home to some King William Pine trees that are almost 2000 years old. That’s as old as the Romans, or Jesus, or twice as old as the Vikings! With beautifully-furnished rooms, private decks that overlook the rainforest and a spa that offers an extensive menu (I opted for the full-body Vichy Salt scrub – bliss) I could easily have spent a week here.
But more sights beckoned with a cruise up the Gordon House River (Gordon River Cruises, +61 3 6471 7187) from Strahan to Sarah Island, (site of the first penal colony and a diverting half-day’s adventure) and a meal at the Franklin Manor boutique hotel (The Esplanade, +61 3 6471 7311). This last was pure indulgence with a menu that travelled through seven tantalising courses from egg foam and soya jelly flecked with gold leaf, to wasabi ice-cream. The love affair of a Michelin chef from France and a waitress from New South Wales, their ‘Discovery Menu’ compliments each exquisite amuse bouche (using only the freshest local produce and seafood) with wines from their exhaustive cellar. Ask nicely and they will take you down there. Whether you make it back up is up to you!
I spent the night at the extraordinary Wheelhouse Apartments (4, Fraser Street, +61 3 6471 7777), two self-contained units built by the current owners back in 2002 that afford more ‘edge of the world’ views across the harbour, through floor-to-ceiling windows from which, if you are lucky, you may spot dolphins as they follow the fishing boats back in to the bay. The apartments are currently up for sale and I utilised the five hour drive back to Hobart, where I was booked in for two final nights, plotting ever more extreme ways to raise the money to buy them.
I was still plotting on my first night at the eccentric and arty Edinburgh Gallery B&B (211, Macquarrie Street, +61 3 6224 9229). And still plotting on my second, at the boutique Henry Jones Art Hotel (25, Hunter Street, +61 3 6231 6391).
The Henry Jones is located in a former jam factory and wouldn’t look out of place in California or New York with its autumn-coloured textiles, exposed beams, plasma TVs and stylish cocktail bar. Hanging out here seemed like the best option after a trip into town to check out the only gay bar, Kaos (237, Elizabeth Street, +61 3 6231 5699) whose few clientele suggested that of the town’s 185, 000 population, 184, 900 of them had decided to stay at home for the night!
Before my flight back I had one final appointment, on Bruny Island. This is where Tasman first landed - two lumps of land joined by a sandy isthmus less than 100m wide. Today it’s home to a tiny population, including Michael Carnes and his partner Robert Lavis, who have built a self-contained apartment for rent in the grounds of their home, the HIBA Gatehouse (53, Adventure Bay Road, +61 3 6293 1456), complete with rose and rhododendron walks, landscaped gardens and access to a private beach with dramatic prospects back across to Port Arthur.
It was while Michael regaled me with amusing anecdotes about his life on Bruny that I gave up my plotting to purchase the Wheelhouse Apartments and reflected that his home too encapsulates everything Tasmania has to offer; superb hospitality, exquisite food and views that are almost epic in their drama. All that was missing were the marsupials! The truth is you don’t really need the Wheelhouse. You could throw a tent up in the air in Tassie and where it lands is where you’d live. I’d put money on you being happy.
Getting There:
Quest Travel offer a seven day Taste Of Tasmania Self Drive package along the east coast of Tasmania from £199 (excluding flights). A ten day Ultimate Tasmania Self Drive tour with time to discover all the island's magic spots costs from £399. Contact Quest on 0845 458 5425 or log on to www.questtravel.com
Flights to Tasmania with Qantas (including two additional stops within Australia, plus a stopover of your choice in Hong Kong, Singapore, Bangkok or Bali each way) cost from £799. Book through Quest or log on to www.qantas.com.au for other deals.
Andrew Copestake
