A Breath Of Fresh Air
Well, it’s third time lucky with this trip to Tasmania. Having had to cancel twice before due to Covid restrictions, we had re-booked, half thinking we might never actually make it…
With a ridiculously early flight out at 6am, it meant an even more ridiculous wake-up time of 3:30am. Shaking Toby awake gently at the aforementioned silly time, he revealed that he actually hadn’t yet packed. What?!! Miraculously, he managed to sort and shove the appropriate things in his bag in time, having it zipped and ready by the time we were being picked up. When our incredibly kind friend, Keryn, had offered to take us to the airport, enquiring what time we’d need to be there, she hardly batted an eyelid when I told her the obscene time and arrived promptly at 4am to pick us up and deposit us at the boarding gate. Talk about going above and beyond!
Barely awake in the car, we were packed to the hilt, each with a big heavy suitcase on our laps, attempting to take selfies in the dark. Tobes had a moment of slight panic, realising he’d forgotten his passport. I guess Tasmania is technically overseas.
Sam had been a late inclusion to this trip, initially thinking he’d have to work, so he had booked his flights separately and consequently got to sit in the very front row all by himself. Apparently Jetstar has done away with business class but you can’t beat the front row. Seated only a few rows back, we loved that we could see right into the cockpit. The guy behind me got straight to snoozing and stretched his long legs so that his enormous feet went all the way under my chair and poked right out between my own not-so-enormous feet. I had to spread my legs out either side, to avoid them.
Stepping off the plane out into the crisp Tasmanian air, we all agreed how much fresher it seemed. It even smelt good. Armed with incredibly detailed instructions (including photos) for how to find our bus stop, we were picked up by an overstuffed shuttlebus to be taken to our car rental place. Cramming in, bags and all, it became apparent that Sam wasn’t going to fit. He waved us off, the driver assuring us he’d be back in a jiffy to grab him.
Our hire car thankfully sported a much bigger boot than my car back home, negating the necessity for bags-on-the-lap. The patriotic Hobart-loving attendant gave us loads of sightseeing tips and plied us with maps and brochures brimming with fun and exciting things to do in Tasmania’s capital. He was so enthusiastic and even walked us to the car, giving us a friendly send-off, complete with a wave.
Leaving our luggage in the car, we set-off on foot in pursuit of the waterfront. The inner city streets are so picture-perfect, with gorgeous, dormer-windowed cottages, adorned with creeping vines, white picket fences, and gardens a-bloom with pretty, plump roses, manicured hedges, and other beautiful blossoms, bursting with colour. Molly joked that expert gardening skills must surely be compulsory in this suburb.
The road meandered down to the shore of the Derwent River and wound all the way around to the city centre. Hobart is not exactly a hulking metropolis, with a population of only 250,000 people. That, coupled with its lack of high rise buildings, give it definite (big) small town vibes. We love it!
Electric scooters are the preferred mode of transport here and there are scooters parked neatly on street corners everywhere. Tobes thought he’d try one out and had a spin around the waterfront on our way to the famous Salamanca Markets. We had expected the temperature to be cooler in the Apple Isle but were surprised to feel the warmth of the sun today. It was somehow hot but fresh at the same time. Molly aptly summed it up, suggesting it was like a summer’s day with the airconditioning on.
The markets were expansive and so much fun to walk around; stalls boasting beautiful handicrafts, clothes, fresh produce and delicious food. Ross got himself some scallops-on-a-stick and we all scored some freshly squeezed apple juice and gourmet popcorn. There were circus buskers and musicians, a big leafy park to sit in. It was a really great atmosphere. We’d arranged to meet our friends Xuewei and Kevin (who moved from Sydney to Hobart a few years ago) for lunch in Salamanca Square and it was fantastic to see them and catch-up.
Keen to rest our weary heads, after lunch we were able to check-in to our cute Airbnb accommodation - a little cottage in Sandy Bay, with its own picket fence and rose garden - and we hit our pillows for some recharging of our batteries after our early start.
This afternoon, Toby caught up with a friend he’d met in Mexico last year, while the rest of the family ventured uphill to Mt Wellington for an eagle-eye view of the entire city of Hobart. The rocky scenery on top of the mountain was as stunning as the view down below, with long, tall rocks that looked like they had been propped up on their ends, standing side-by-side in clumps; Hobart’s answer to Stonehenge. Other bulbous boulders were covered in splats of colour that looked like paint and the low (somewhat spiky) vegetation was dotted with pretty little flowers and wispy fairyfloss plants. It was beautiful. Boardwalks take you around the top of the hill with scenic lookouts from every angle. Charles Darwin famously ascended to the heights of Mt Wellington in 1836, declaring it to be “of no picturesque beauty” but, given It had taken him almost 6 hours to get to the summit, in his woollen trousers and waistcoat, shiny leather shoes and cravat, I can’t imagine he would have been feeling tip-top and in the mood for a glowing review when he got there.
While we watched, clouds started to sail in and obscure the view and it was quite chilly atop the peak. Ross was busting but we couldn’t see any toilets anywhere so he snuck around the back of a big clump of rocks to where he thought he could relieve himself discreetly, away from prying eyes. Shortly afterwards, he realised he’d actually been facing the boardwalk and the open road, giving everyone for miles around a perfect view of his indiscretion. Oops!
Driving back down, we had decided to dine at the Taste Of Tasmania, a huge festival of food and wine, right in the city centre at the dock, which was open for its last night. Reunited with Toby, we were spoilt for choice for what to eat with a plethora of tasty options on offer. There was live music and a buzzing atmosphere. So much fun!
