Hobart

Next stop Hobart, where we stayed at Treasure Island Caravan Park at Berriedale in the northern suburbs. A really nice site right on a bay of Derwent River and an easy bus journey into town. (A lot of people seem to use the Royal Showground which is a few kms further into town, and probably cheaper, but it's right on the Brooker Highway and doesn't look too inviting - glad we decided not to stay there. And recently heard on the radio that there is talk of maybe closing it down to campers.)

Hobart itself is in a lovely setting on a huge natural harbour (the second deepest in the world) and nestling in the shadow of Mount Wellington to boot (d'ya get it?) (1,270 metres or over 4,000 feet making it a substantial Munro). Went into town on the Friday, wandered around the centre for a while before stopping for a drink then an excellent curry in the Anapurna Salamanca. Hobart is so reminiscent of Scottish cities like Edinburgh and Aberdeen both in terms of size and architecture, and even the weather is more akin to the UK than Oz, that we immediately felt at home. And to make us feel even more at home on Saturday, after an afternoon wandering around the Salamanca market we met up again with David and Nobumi and had a great night out with them and their friends Les and Carla. The Salamanca Street area is all arty farty and full of trendy places to eat and drink. We ate at Sals where the food was very good, but the highlight was the live entertainment. A guy called Billy Whitlam sang and played guitar. He played all our favourite stuff, even the less well known or downright obscure, and was absolutely brilliant - a great range, a great voice and a great guitarist (no we're not on commission, honest!)

Next day we had a great trip out on the Harbour with Wild Thing. In their fast boat we skirted the coastline past the oldest lighthouse in Australia, out into Storm Bay and around Betsey Island where we were delighted to witness a fantastic display of flying by three Wedge Tail Eagles - a pair showing their youngster how to fly. We also finally booked our return ferry. (Tasmania is so incredibly popular and busy that we had to opt for an earlier departure date than we'd ideally wanted. But it's probably just as well because it's time we got on the road to the more remote parts of Oz and keep to our planned schedule.) It being a Sunday the buses were few and far between so we jumped on one heading our way. However, we were so busy chatting that we didn't notice it didn't actually go past our site and we ended up in a shopping complex in a rather less salubrious part of Hobart. We did manage to get back after waiting about an hour for another bus. On our last day in Hobart, we did Louisa's Walk a walking theatrical tour which tells the story of Louisa, a female convict transported from England to Tasmania. Not surprisingly there was a lack of women at that time so there was a deliberate policy of 'finding' women petty criminals or those on trumped up charges to transport to do women's work. When we booked we didn't realise that it was a public holiday and when we found public transport wouldn't get us there in time, we phoned to try to change the time to later in the day. Surprise, surprise - Judith and Chris (who run and do the tour) offered to pick us up in the town centre. When we got there we recognised them because they were in 19th century costume. How's that for service! A rather surreal experience to be picked up by the actors, in costume, and in the centre of Hobart. But the tour was brilliant. It took us from outside the Cascade Brewery, through the park and down to the Womens Factory (a euphemism for a dreadful prison) with Judith and Chris acting in part and us participating as other convicts - much to the amusement and bemusement of passers by. They were both excellent actors and we learned so much about what life must have been like for these women. It turned out that because of the public holiday when most things were closed, we were the only ones on the tour. But Judith and Chris say they are happy to do it for even one person. If you're ever in Hobart it's definitely a must do.

Port Arthur

The run from Hobart down the Tasman Peninsula was stunning - when is it going to stop? There are always more and more stunning coastal views and something exceptional to see, such as those around the isthmus between the Forestier and Tasman Peninsulas called Eagelhawk Neck. Highlights included the Tessellated Pavement, an incredible natural rock formation on the shore that looks like loaves of bread, the Tasman Arch, the Tasman Blowhole and Devils Kitchen. Port Arthur was an easy half hour walk through the coastal forest from our camp site (the Port Arthur Caravan Park was one of the nicest sites in terms of space and layout). But typically of us we made it harder for ourselves. We left a bit later than planned and ended up taking a wrong turning which took us up through the bush and forest and we ended up with no idea where we were - we were probably back near where we started. Luckily we came across some forest workers who put us back on the right track. Port Arthur is essentially a large historical site centred round the penitentiary and other related buildings, eg the Commandant's & Doctor's houses, hospital, asylum etc. It's set in a picturesque cove in (another) large natural harbour, and it's hard to imagine how it can have been the scene of such misery all those years ago.

It is even harder to imagine the more recent tragedy of the massacre in 1995 when 35 people were gunned down and many more injured. We wondered whether everyone who visits the site is aware of this more recent tragedy and, as we wandered round the memorial garden dedicated to those who lost their lives, it was clear that many didn't know about it. We had also heard earlier that there is some speculation about this event (shades of JFK?) and in the hope of finding out more we've bought a book written by no less than Margaret Scott!

During our walk about the site we saw a great pall of smoke arising from what appeared to be the direction of our camping ground. It's funny the tricks these things play on you - is it our campsite, is it our van, did we switch the gas off, should we rush back? But we held fast and it turned out to be back burning in the national park well away from the site, although the smell of wood smoke hung around all the time we were there.We returned to Port Arthur that night for the Ghost Walk. Our tour was at 9pm, so at 8pm we headed off along the path where we'd got lost that morning - through the woods, along the beach, up through the woods round the headland - in the increasing darkness and hearing every rustle. As we approached Port Arthur, in our torchlight we saw some things moving up ahead. Sharp intake of breath - but thankfully only rabbits. The ghost tour was interesting and quite spooky, but Eric (who's had ghostly experiences in the past) didn't get any sensation of ghostly matters this time - although he did spot a couple of bricks in the church tower that looked as if they were people looking down on us! But when we were in the basement of the doctor's house, in his underground dissection room, one woman who was standing with her back to the wall jumped when she was convinced that she had been tapped on the shoulder - and her husband denied all knowledge. They happened to be the couple who gave us a lift home when we decided it was too late (or were we too scared?) to walk back along the dark, dark path.

Earlier in the day we'd had a look at the site's searchable database of prisoners who'd done time at Port Arthur. We put in all family, and some friends', names and you'll be pleased to hear there are no references to Enscoe, Greig, Ferrier, Gladman, Dyte or Coull. However, there are some Scotts, loads of Taylors and Murrays, a few Milnes and Grants and Robins and one McPhillips. There's a distinct lack of references to prisoners originating from Aberdeen and Arbroath, but there was one from Montrose and a number from Edinburgh. However the vast majority of the records were missing home town details and of course, there could be lots of your relatives who were transported to other parts of Australia. The next day we decided to tour the Taman Peninsula and headed to Maingon Bay, the most southerly part of the globe we've ever been. The big attraction there is Remarkable Cave, and remarkable it was, but for us the coastal view was just fantastic (sorry, we're running out of superlatives) and definitely not to be missed.

Then we headed to our next camping ground at Fortescue Bay in Tasman National Park. On the way we were fortunate to spot our first echidna (a little spiky thing a bit like a big hedgehog and with a long snout for rooting out ants. Craig - is this in your book?) It was at Fortescue Bay that we also saw our first penguins (fairy ones they were) - but alas they were all dead ones lying on the beach. They've now all gone out to sea and some just don't make and are washed back ashore. Such a shame, but such is nature. Eric decided to have a rest the hip day but Margaret took a good coastal trek through the bush to Canoe Bay and felt very intrepid tramping through the isolated, snake infested bush on her own.

Maria Island

Heading north the following day, as we left Dunalley Eric noticed the temperature gauge go sky high. A quick u-turn back to town and we found a mechanic who was able to help us out. Bruce - the first one we've come across - diagnosed a leak in the radiator hose caused by rubbing against the fan belt flywheel. A heavy duty puncture repair kit and a couple of hose clips and we were on our way. Phew, what a relief!

Once again as we travelled up the coast the views were just magnificent. We stayed overnight at Triabunna in order to catch the morning ferry to Maria Island, an island national park that is now deserted but was once yet another penal colony. It is just beautiful. We took the bikes and cycled about 25 kms down and back the west coast of the island where we saw lots of wild life, including our first wombat in the wild (with another couple of sightings on our way back), lots of Cape Barren Geese, sea eagles and black cockatoo etc (see photos). And the scenery yet again was just wonderful - you'll just have to look at the photos to see what we mean. A thoroughly enjoyable day out and the only sore point was our bums!

Coles Bay

Next port of call was Coles Bay on the Freycinet Peninsula. On the way we took the opportunity to pop into a couple of vineyards on the way for tastings and to stock up our wine cellar, which is located beneath our two 'dining room' seats. The weather has been really good recently, which has enabled us to enjoy the scenery at its best. This part of the journey yet again was ……………. you'll have to use your own superlative, but 'glorious' would go some way to describe it.

That night we decided not to cook and planned to buy a pizza from the neighbouring take away. However, when Eric got there the pizza dough had run out and we had to make do with some of the best fish and chips we've had for years -Tasmanian trevella, scallops, squid and prawns. And, Eric also came back with what turned out to be the nearest thing we've had outside of Scotland to a mealie/white pudding.

The following day it was great to have David and Nobumi join us from Hobart for an overnight stop (third time we've seen them while in Australia). It was unanimous that we would do the walk to Wine Glass Bay (the main attraction, not surprisingly because it's absolutely stunning) which involved a steep climb to the viewpoint and a steep descent down the other side to the beach. Although Wine Glass Bay does have a natural crescent shape, it is so named because in the days of the whaling station here the water was coloured red, like wine. When we got to the beach and while we had some fruit, David whipped off his clothes and plunged into the chilly sea (see photos). We had a really good night and a BBQ back at Annie before saying a fond farewell the following morning.

We moved into the National Park campground at Richardson Beach then headed off for a game of golf at Freycinet Golf Course. Afterwards, we headed to the Cape Tourville lighthouse and look-out point where we spent ages looking out over the fantastic coastline, north and south (so many breathtaking sights!), watching seabirds feeding on shoals of fish - in fact the sea was literally churning with the numbers of fish leaping around on the surface.

Cradle Mountain

After Coles Bay we headed inland to spend our last couple of days in Tasmania at Cradle Mountain National Park. On the way, we took a short detour to Ross, a picturesque historic village, the Tasmanian Gourmet Sauce Co., and Clarendon, a historic colonial country estate on the River South Esk - all worthy of a visit. That night we stayed at Longford which is a pleasant country town and the following morning had a guided tour of Woolmers Estate which is a historic wool farm. It has the oldest working sheep shearing shed in Australia (shay that with a drink, Sean!). The next night was spent at Mole Creek - a middle of nowhere place really but our site had great views of the superb Western Tiers (ie hills) and we greatly enjoyed our tour of the Marakoopa Cave. We'd liked to have gone round King Solomon's Cave too but unfortunately didn't have the time!! As we journeyed, the countryside changed from coastal, to moorland, to rolling farmland (all still very brown - how they desperately need rain), to densely forested foothills and gorges with wiggly- windy- hilly roads and finally to the mountainous National Park itself - a real driving challenge for Eric and Annie both!

On our way to Mole Creek, as the following day was our 29th wedding anniversary (who'd have thought it?!?) we decided to stop off in Deloraine at a 50's diner (surrounded by old petrol pumps and garage memorabilia) for a burger and chips) foe our celebratory feast. Thnis n early beat the Silver Wedding feast at a corner Chinese restaurant in a Stockholm suburb when we failed to realise that on the day nearly every eating place (except the Chinese thank goodness) was closed.

Cradle Mountain, one of Tassie's main attractions, is very distinctive and instantly recognisable. The big thing to do here is to climb the mountain itself and set off on the seven day hike on the overland track to Lake St Clair at the southern end of the national park (where our regular readers will remember we stayed a couple of weeks ago). Unfortunately time and Eric's hip didn't allow us to do either of those but we did do a few shorter walks - Pencil Pine Falls, Enchanted Walk, Snake Hill to Dove Lake, where we saw loads of wombat droppings but no wombats. The weather had closed in a bit but on the first afternoon, as we walked from the visitor centre through the bush track to Dove Lake, we got a pretty good view of a moody looking Cradle Mountain surrounded by low cloud. Tomorrow (23 March) is our 29th anniversary - can't believe we've put up with each other for so long - and we're looking forward to celebrating it by doing the walk around Dove Lake, which sits at the foot of Cradle Mountain and affords great views of it, and a bottle of bubbly. As luck would have it, however, the heavens opened the evening before and it poured all night - very happy for the locals and farmers, but could it not have waited just one more day? Although it had cleared up in the morning, down it came again just as we headed out of the campsite and by the time we got to the start of the walk it was hailstones and blowing a gale! Great!! But not undaunted, as we were well clad for it having experienced the vagaries of the weather hill walking it Scotland, we waited for a lull and when, sure enough it came, away we went. And we're so glad we did, even though half way round the hailstones came down again in torrents. It was pretty chilly but we warmed ourselves up afterwards with a hot cup of coffee by a roaring log fire in the Cradle Mountain Lodge Tavern. A bright and sunny day (could it not have been like this yesterday?) but sadly our last in Tassie and we wanted to make the most of it before our 9pm sailing back to Melbourne. After driving north to the coast at Somerset (again through wonderful scenery and views of the mountains in the distance) where we completed our 'circuit' of the island, we headed east through Penguin and Ulverstone to spend the afternoon at Narawntapu National Park and collect another stamp on our National Parks Passport (counting up we visited and/or stayed in 10 of Tassie's national parks). The tourist map marks this park out as a place for seeing wildlife, and see it we did - in droves. The usual wobblies (wallabies) and Paddy Malones (pademelons) were just everywhere in abundance. But there were also plenty of wombats snuffling around, and we got our first sight of yer'actual kangaroos - great muckle beasts they are. Glad they didn't come too close, although the wobblies and Paddy Malones hung around us and some even came right up to the van door. Some people feed them, despite the signs saying not to, and they can become a real nuisance. Anyway, we pretty much had the place to ourselves and after sitting reading the Sunday paper on the beach, we (well Eric) cooked dinner on the free public BBQ before it was time to head for Devonport and the Spirit of Tasmania. We're really sorry to be leaving Tassie, it's been 'Fantasmaniastic'. We keep saying how gorgeous it is but it's not just the scenery - it's also that the colours are so vivid and the clarity so sharp, it's like watching a 3D film but without needing the glasses. We've thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. However, we've spent so long here feel it's been like a holiday in a familiar environment as so much of it reminds us of Scotland. We're now looking forward to getting started on the journey proper around the 'big island' and exploring the 'real' Australia.