Wednesday, March 16th we drive to Hobart. It's a pleasant drive through farming country, though Robin was a bit upset when he ran over a snake, and actually slowed down wondering if we should go back and see if it was beyond help. I vetoed that, asserting that he had done the country as favour, as Australia has the largest number of poisonous snakes (and bugs, and fish, not to mention the crocs). Further on, we decided to stop off for lunch in Richmond in the Coal Valley, one of the principal wine growing regions in Tasmania. A pretty town largely consisting of stone buildings and a stone bridge over the Coal River, not unlike Richmond Bridge in Surrey. Unfortunately, most of these buildings are now given over to the usual trappings of tourism, namely gift shops, novelty shops and the like. But at the Richmond Wine Centre, we did find a very good café and some good Tasmanian Pinot Noir -Ayer Vale.

Our destination, Hobart, pop 200,000, reached by crossing the impressive new Tasman Bridge, was the first large city we had seen in a week. We are staying right in the centre of town at an old fashioned gentleman's club, The Tasmanian Club, with whom I have a reciprocal arrangement from the City University Club in London. It turns out to be enormous. The high ceilings, rich wooden panelling, creaky floorboards, old fashioned fittings (like brass light switches) and brightly patterned Victorian style carpet, are exactly like the gentlemen's clubs in London. Particularly the antiquated rules regarding areas off limits for women, which didn't amuse Glenna. The billiard room has to be seen to be believed. It is enormous, holding not one but two full sized tables. We walk around the local downtown area passing the usual statues of British monarchs, and along streets named after them (and Laclan Macquarie, whose name is everywhere in this country). An interesting area to explore is the older quarter - Battery Point - where the first British settlement started, and which for the most part remains as narrow streets and smaller cottages next to the dockside. It was here that Hobart's most famous son was born, later to become a Hollywood legend - Errol Flynn. Salamanca Place, a row of old warehouses alongside the docks, now converted into cafes and bookshops, was beginning to get decked out in green for St. Patricks Day on Thursday. We decided to avoid the Irish pubs and went to dine in Mures, a harbourside fish restaurant. Glenna had Blue Eye and I tried an Abalone (the large mollusc).

The next morning we visit a Narryna, a lovely stone Georgian House that won Australia's Small Museum award as a Heritage museum. It was a real find and very well curated, encompassing the history of the successive occupants starting with the Haig family who built the place, as well as providing lots of interesting objects that really gave a feel for the colony's early social history and what it was like to live in such a place.

Next we went to the TMAG ­- Tasmanian Museum of Arts and Gallery, which proved more interesting than we thought it would be. Highlights were the highly apologetic exhibition that documented how unfairly the aborigines had been treated by the Europeans, and a great Antarctic exhibition. The café provided a fast and tasty lunch break.

Our final tourist attraction was the Maritime Museum, not as good as some we've seen in our travels, but still full of historical artefacts, including, for the more bloodthirsty visitor, all manner of instruments for killing and cutting up whales, representing what was a very big industry in this part of the world at one time.

We chose not to dine in the Club, as a bridge evening was in progress, so we went to Monty's in Montpelier Street, a restaurant we stumbled upon while walking around Battery Point. Very friendly and modern European in style, this newish restaurant deserves a mention in the guide books (travel reviewers, please note). We had excellent lamb, cooked as three different cuts, and then were offered the cheese menu sporting 35 different cheeses, mostly Tasmanian. Unfortunately, Glenna reminded me of my dietary requirements, so I limited myself to two selections.

Friday, March 18th and we leave Tasmania after a most enjoyable 8 days on the island. We're now bound for Sydney, but not before visiting the Drifters Internet Café to have breakfast and upload this latest blog. It turns out that this café is also a shrine to Hobart's famous son, Errol Flynn, with all manner of Flynn memorabilia, including his dinghy and a model of his sloop - Solace. We brought our jar of Tasmanian Leatherwood Honey to the cafe, and surrepetitiously finished it off with our toast.