Australia

This post is bought to you by the letter W, for water. There’s been no shortage of it lately, both falling from the sky and tumbling down a cliff. As I drove the fifty-something kilometres from Bicheno to St Helens with the windscreen wipers on, the local’s assurances that the weather was likely to clear seemed somehow a little optimistic. St Helens is near the start of the Bay of Fires, apparently rated one of the world’s greatest beach areas. Probably not that day, however …

The weather had been pretty average on the way to Swansea yesterday, and any hopes of an immediate improvement were dashed as soon as I woke up to hear the rain on the roof. Not really ideal conditions for hiking several hours around the Freycinet National Park, but why let the weather (or logic) get in the way of a good plan? Thankfully the drizzle did eventually clear somewhat – it was still far from the picture-perfect shots that you see on the tourist brochures, but at least I didn’t need water wings on the trail.

Dropped the family out at the airport inappropriately early then headed out for a run and to explore Hobart. Battery Point and UTAS (University of Tasmania) were the first port of call – the former was particularly cool, with little streets heading every which way, old houses and commercial buildings everywhere and a very laid back vibe.

After breakfast at Retro Cafe on Salamanca Place (good food, truly abysmal service – don’t reward it with your patronage) the happy family headed southeast down the Tasman Peninsula bound for the biggest drawcard in the area. Famous for over 150 years as a brutal penal station for those convicts who reoffended once in Van Diemen’s Land, and for the last fifteen as the site of an equally brutal massacre by a deranged gunman, the Port Arthur historic site always draws the crowds.

The highlight of the next day in Launceston was … dinner. And not just because most of the rest of the day was spent either trying to find someone to serve us breakfast or lying in the park reading a book. “Lonnie” is a pretty sleepy town at the best of times, but on Sundays it seemed positively in a coma. Many of the shops were shut and foot traffic in the central city was light at best. A great excuse to do not much, so we took it. Fish ‘n’ Chips was the choice of evening meal location, and an inspired one it was. A truly excellent calamari salad, washed down by several bottles of cold Corona while shooting the breeze and sitting almost in the river.