For the final leg of our trip we planned to drive inland towards Launceston, Tasmania's second largest town and then over to the west coast and back down to Hobart. The day started with a hot shining sun as we made a short detour down to the beach to watch waves crashing up through a blowhole. We did laugh when someone got cocky and stood too close and got a surprise shower. Leaving town, it started to rain as we drove up the east coast, and did it rain. The first real rain we have had. Finally, we turned inland and climbed through some mountains, slowly leaving the rain behind. After stopping at a small town, favoured by mountain bikers, for a cup of coffee we had our one and only siting of a Tasmanian devil, a live one that is. It was sauntering across the road. They are surprisingly small, about the size of a chubby Yorkshire terrier. They are carrion eaters so spend time at road kill and often end up as road kill themselves, so not surprisingly we must have seen a dozen or so squashed on the road. Conservationists are worried as besides their tendency to get squashed they have developed a facial cancer that results in death.

Finding a suitable wild campsite is always a challenge and this night was no exception. Turning up a possible side road (they are always a good bet) we soon discovered a settlement which was inconsiderately hogging all the coast so had to turn back. At least we did get to see another echidna heading down to the beach.

With better success we drove up a side road to a state forest and military area with prohibited access. Peter assured me that they would check the area before launching any missiles! We found a lovely spot up a very rough mud track (almost too rough for Syd 2 but he made it) and hid ourselves behind a tree. As the sun went down some curious wallabies appeared. They seemed a little perplexed at finding a large white object in their forest and just sat and looked at us for some time. Despite the worry of military action I slept like a log. Next morning Peter was on wildlife spotting duty while I was dressing. I came to see what he had spotted but he said nothing. I questioned him asking if that included the large wallaby sitting by the side door!

Popping into Low Head we had breakfast outside the lighthouse and then had a peep at the Type G Diaphone fog alarm built in Birmingham and subsequently used at the lighthouse from 1929 to 1973 when it gave up. It is the only one of its kind in the world that could be operational so locals were keen to restore it and it now sounds midday every Sunday. They did have a bit of trouble as no one knew how to actually get it to sound but finally a manual turned up at Portland Bill light station in England. Apparently, the horn sounds like the roar of a 1000 elephants (not sure how they know that).

Our first destination just outside Launceston was Seahorse World which we came to regret visiting. I hadn’t looked too hard at the leaflet we had picked up and it turned out to be a seahorse farm. Have you ever heard of such a thing, with them even being supplied to a Hobart restaurant? Horrid.

In Launceston, we popped into our first automobile museum which was an assortment of very shiny cars on loan from various owners. I was especially impressed by a restored car which had been caught with front wheels hanging over the edge of the Hobart bridge when the central section had collapsed in 1975. The bridge’s supporting pillars had been struck by a bulk ore carrier. The central section bridge fell onto the carrier sinking it in minutes.

The next day we planned to walk along the Cataract gorge upstream of the river Esk. The start of the gorge is at a shallow basin and lovely old 1899 Victorian pleasure garden with lovely wooden tearooms, kiosk and band stand, a chairlift, suspension bridge, flower beds and resident peacocks. You can walk about 3 km up one side of the gorge to an old power station and back the other side and if your legs are still holding out you can walk towards the town and the road bridge across the start of the gorge. Peter decided my legs were okay so after a short rest for a cuppa of we went.


The so-called Duck Reach power station was begun in the 1850’s and opened in 1894 to provide the first electricity to Launceston, making Launceston the first city south of the equator to be lit by electricity generated by water power. It finally closed in 1955. It was a bit controversial as its designer proposed to have the water tunneled through the hill instead of piped around it. Something of an engineering feat for the 1850’s. The actual electrical generating equipment was made in England and connected to alternators also made in England.

After a short rest, we walked along the gorge towards the town. Halfway along Peter said he could hear bagpipes. I politely suggested maybe he needed a rest but had to apologise when rounding a bend a few minutes later we came across a bagpiper changing the reed in his pipes. He had emigrated 40 years previously from Edinburgh and played in the local bagpipe band. We chatted for a bit and then left him to it. I must admit that the acoustics in the gorge were very good.

Before heading back to the campsite, where I had negotiated a 5 dollar reduction for the second night, we dropped in on Evandale. This is down in the guide book as a sight to visit around Launceston. It was charming, if a little small with some original Georgian buildings and 5 shops, two with cafes. I was however bowled over by the rose bushes at one café. The large bushes were covered and I mean covered in fragrant blooms.

We had planned to visit a platypus centre but on researching a bit it didn’t seem you actually saw platypus so chose to give it a miss. The caves we had lined up to visit next were closed due to floods so we gave them a miss as well and headed west. We stopped on the way and camped wild in a small carpark for visitors to a scenic lookout. Camping wild does have its drawbacks. One being that I do worry about being moved on and this particular night I awoke to flashing blues lights. Believing it to be the blue lights of a police car I woke Peter who looking out and assured me it was only lightning. Easy mistake to make in the early hours when you are half asleep. That was my excuse. Mind you the lighting was a very remarkable cobalt blue.

Around forty percent of Tasmania is covered by national park and the west has the highest concentration, at what turned out to be a considerably chilly higher altitude. We braved it and camped wild for several nights, with every fleece we possessed covering us and Peter even wearing socks in bed. We did two long walks in the Cradle Mountain National Park, well long for me, of 2 to 3 hours. Peter said I had walked about 4 miles, no wonder I had DOMS (delayed onset muscle soreness) the next day. You have to pay to go and do the walks which made me realise how lucky we are for all those public footpaths and bridleways.

One town (there aren’t many) over on the West side is Queenstown which has a rather good review in the guide book. After our visit I did wonder if these writers ever actually visit these places. It was the gloomiest looking town I have ever visited. It has a short grungy high street with some closed shops and the rest looking like a good coat of paint would not go a miss. We decided to visit the museum which is housed in an old hotel and each room has a sort of themed collection of old paraphernalia. With no real historical context, you came away feeling you had been to a repository of assorted old bits and pieces, which was sad as the town has a rich mining history and has had several economic ups and downs. Most certainly a 'down’ at the moment! The surrounding Lyell Mountain range now ugly through mining activities was found to be bursting with copper and some gold and silver seams. The first mine, Iron Blow was discovered by three hardened prospectors in the 1880’s. It was taken over by three canny investors who saw that the areas wealth was in copper. Other mines were opened and the area saw an economic boom. The investors became wealthy while the original prospectors died in poverty. Must be a moral there somewhere.

Driving on we camped in a hotel carpark (with permission of the owner) for another chilly night. We felt we should pop into the bar and have a drink but didn’t hang around long, as yet again it was a bit characterless compared with a good English country pub.

Mount Field national park was our next stop as we headed back towards Hobart. It is at a lower altitude and so a much more pleasing temperature. We had another nice walk, 2 hours this time and then camped at their campsite and dined with pademelons around us. On the walk, we came across some Eucalyptus regnans which are the tallest hardwood and tallest flowering plants in the world. The tallest was recorded as 98 metres. Redwoods do reach over 100 metres but they are softwoods. A sudden raucous screeching alerted us to the presence of cockatoos, Yellow tailed black cockatoos to be precise. A group of 8 or so were shredding a decaying log to get grubs. They seemed to be enjoying themselves if the noise they were making is any indication.

Our final day before handing the campervan back we had the idea to drive to Mount Wellington outside Hobart and do another 2 to 3 hour walk. All was going okay until we started driving up. Gradually we became immersed in a snow storm with accompanying gale force icy wind and Peters latest CD of Xmas music! Now I have been quite willing to try a good walk but this was a bit too much so after braving the ferocious weather at the top, with no views to speak of because of low cloud cover, we retreated down for a cup of coffee. I should point out that Hobart whilst a little breezy was in sunshine.

Here ends 5,000 miles down under although we should rename it 7,272 miles down under.