7th December

We wake as the sky turns to mod grey. Mal struggles out to the foredeck camera in hand. Tasmania is a series of thin grey lines. The sunrise is imminent and it is like a sunrise from childhood, big and full of drama. It is wonderful, the wind is fresh, the land looms slowly closer.

We berth and all of a sudden we feel like we have been spat out into a new place. Expectations fight with reality as we try and reconcile.

What is Tasmania like - well it is not a flat plain, but rather rolling hills, steep mountains in some parts, but what we have seen so far is rolling hills and lots of agricultural land, then planted forests and of course area of wilderness.

Mal thought it would be quiet but the traffic has been quite brisk - tankers, large trucks and of course some caravans and such. We bought a National Parks pass - most parks have an entrance fee and we have only found one with authorized camping so far. There are lots of signs, "no camping". So in that way it is not a friendly island to travel in. The local people we have met in shops and so forth have been friendly and there is the touch of islander (like Kangaroo island) about them.

We found a guy who is going to do some work on the trailer rear draw bridge/door to make it easier to lift up. So we have left the trailer with him and headed off solo. We made about 50k on our first day out - there are lots of beautiful natural wonders to appreciate but Mal is very aware that the British came and stole this island off the former inhabitants - it happens but Mal still thinks it sucks.

We ended up camping at Boat Harbour Beach - the wind was gusting heaving so we dropped the roof and listened to the rain pass in light showers.

Tuesday 8th December

Rain and wind for breakfast. A bicycle rider huddles under the nearby BBQ shelter. We head up to Rocky Point NP (by the way no camping here) it is still overcast with light showers. The headlands are impressive as is the windswept vegetation. The ocean pounds the rocky coast, the coast holds up in an amazing way, all orange lichen and sea weed and small shell fish.

We go along to Edgecombe Beach where we stop for lunch - this place is amazing - the foreshore is a wonderland of eroded rock formations. Sue and Mal are both enthralled. We drag ourselves away and drive up to Stanley, a cloud has snagged on the mountain so we stop and take a snap.

We climb the Nut, it is a steep pinch then there is a 2km loop around the top before we inch back down, knees aching and sample a local ice cream.

It is now 5pm and we want to drive down to Cradle Mountain to do a walk tomorrow. We refuel at Wyundam, and take a back road through some pine forests and finally wind through the mountains where the blue winged parrots swoop across the road as we pass.

We find Iris River - just a patch of grass by a fast flowing stream. No one else there, no trees, just wide open right next to the road. It is late so we stay - shortly afterwards a car pulls up, five young people pile out, pop up tents, photograph the sunset and light a fire. 10 minutes later another car pulls up and another tent goes up, all of a sudden we are a village.

It rains over night