Last
Tuesday, over $6 beers at our favourite local bar, Kent, Conor, Liam and I
opened up a map of Tasmania and considered the Australian island-state with
speculative eyes. On impulse, the boys had booked a flight to Launceston, the
second largest city in Tassie, to depart Wednesday morning. After clearing it
with my work, it didn’t take much (or really any) persuasion on their part, to
convince me to fly down and join them a day later.
I caught a
flight out of Tullamarine airport Thursday after work, landed in Tasmania a
little after 8:00 pm, had the guys pick me up from the airport in a rented car,
and then road shotgun, as Liam drove us eastward: towards the coast. We spotted
12 wallabies during our drive down dusty, winding roads that first night, and
Liam dodged them all expertly.
Friday
morning, we woke up to blistering heat, as Kent, Conor, and Liam nursed
sunburns from their epic hike up Cradle Mountain, which they’d completed the
day before. It turns out we got unbelievably lucky with the weather all
weekend: Tasmania is typically colder than the rest of Australia, with summer
highs usually settling between 17-23 degrees. By comparison, we enjoyed three
days in the high 20’s and swam comfortably in the cool ocean waters each day of
the trip.
After
breakfast at our hostel, we spent Friday morning exploring Mount William National
Park and the Bay of Fires, before driving south to Coles Bay. Coles Bay was the
part of the trip I was most excited for: neighbouring Freycinet National Park,
the region is home to Wineglass Bay, one of the top ten beaches in the world.
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| First up close wallaby sighting |
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| The summit of Mount William |
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| Bay of Fires |
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| Bay of Fires |
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| Standing at the edge of the Tasman Sea at the Bay of Fires |
We stayed
at a great hostel right in Coles Bay, which was reasonably priced and had
everything we needed: including a beach, a bar, and a bottle shop within walking
distance. I think our whole group agreed that the town of Coles Bay, though
quaint, was one of our favourites. If you find yourself in that part of the
world, be sure to check out the bakery on the main strip. Reasonably priced and
full of fresh, homemade baked goods, it was a great find for breakfast Saturday
morning.
The hike to
Wineglass Bay is divided into two parts: a steep climb to the lookout, followed
by an equally steep decent to the beach itself. During the first half, to the
lookout, I was reminded of the hike I did in Norway in August to Pulpit Rock:
the path was bursting full of tourists of all shape and size. Don’t get me
wrong, it’s encouraging to see so many people taking time to connect with
nature, but the crowds also take away from the sanctity of the place. I was
pleased when, after our initial ascend to Wineglass Bay lookout, the crowds
thinned and we made our way down to Wineglass Bay virtually alone.
What does
one expect from one of the best beaches in the world? That question was heavily
debated amongst our group. Crystal clear water, surrounding mountain views and
white, untouched sand? Wineglass Bay had it all. When we arrived after nearly
an hour and a half of walking under the pulsing-hot Australian sun, the
green-blue water and pearly-white sand beaconed to us, promising refreshing
relief.
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| Wineglass Bay from the lookout |
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| Finally reaching the water after hiking down |
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| The sand was the nicest I've ever stepped foot on! |
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| The lack of road access keeps the crowds at bay |
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| The guys contemplate a swim |
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| Soaking in the views |
Quickly
stripping down to our bathing suits and abandoning sweaty backpacks and empty
water bottles in the sand, we raced into the ocean and welcomed the waters cool
touch… that is, until we noticed the jellyfish. In the shallows, as the waves
kissed the beach, dozens of jellies drifted aimlessly, carried by the current. I’d
never seen jellyfish in the wild before (and certainly not in such numbers) so
I found this display to be fascinating. Others, however, were slightly more
discouraged. When a particularly large wave came crashing ashore, I swear Conor
jumped three feet high to try and get out of the path of a drifting jelly. In
the end we made it unscathed, avoiding jellyfish stings, but still managing to
enjoy the crystal clear ocean waters.
The hike
back to the carpark was a grueling 45-minute climb, combined with a swift descent.
By this point our group was almost out of water, so we were motivated to make
it back to the car before the sun could do its worst. Next stop: Bruny Island!
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| We pulled over to snap some photos along the scenic drive down the east coast |
The drive
along Tasmania’s east coast, past Hobart to Bruny Island was stunning: each
twist and turn in the road revealed hidden coves and beaches, as the Tasman Sea
hugged the wild coastline. We boarded the Bruny Island Ferry in the
late-afternoon, and then drove 45 minutes around the eastside of the south part
of the island to Adventure Bay, where we stayed for the night. Adventure Bay is
ripe with wildlife, including platypus (which we unfortunately didn’t see),
Echidna’s (which we did see), and wallabies (which were so plentiful they
almost felt like pests).
On Sunday
morning we took the advice of a local and hiked 6km trek to Fluted Cape, an
aggressive climb to 272 metres above sea level, that rewards hikers with stunning
views of Adventure Bay, dramatic cliff faces and the surrounding green-blue
ocean. Between August — October you can see whales here, as they migrate past
Adventure Bay in search of more temperate waters to birth their young.
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| Conor at the top of Fluted Cape |
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| Conor and Liam (standing a little close to the edge!) |
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| Where the ocean meets the sky... |
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| The water was crystal blue |
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| Liam and I took a break during the hike down to build some tiny rock towers |
After
cooling off with a drip in the ocean, we made our way to Bruny Island’s main
attraction: The Neck. Because of the way the island naturally formed, north and
south Bruny are connected by just a thin strip of land, a couple kilometres
long, that slices through the Tasman sea. Visitors who climb 240 stairs to The
Neck lookout are greeted with a unique panoramic view.
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| View from The Neck, Bruny Island, Tasmania |
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| 240 stairs lead to the lookout |
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| Group shot! |
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| Conor catching some z's in the back seat |
From the
neck, we queued up and awaited the ferry that would take us back to the
mainland, and onward to Hobart, Tasmania’s capital. Hobart is overlooked by
Mount Wellington, a 1,200-metre-tall mountain, which you can access by car. As
the sun began to set on our last day in Tassie, we made the windy-drive up
Mount Wellington.
Although
not the tallest peak in Tasmania (or even in the top ten) the view from Mount
Wellington was worth the drive, as from the top you look down into the city of
Hobart, and the surrounding harbour and waterways.
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| From the summit of Mount Wellington, looking down over Hobart |
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| We were lucky it was a clear day and you could see so far... |
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| It was chilly at the top! A jacket was required. |
The weekend
marked my first trip outside of Victoria since I arrived in Australia in
September, over four months ago. I think my growing love affair with Melbourne
has been well cataloged on this blog, and yet, there was something comforting
and familiar about packing up the bare essentials into a backpack, boarding a
plane, and exploring somewhere new.
Cheers,
Heather
