An Island, Off An Island, Off An Island
Since Toby had missed Mount Wellington yesterday, he and Ross had made a plan to head up there first thing this morning. It was a perfect clear day and they reported better than average visibility and the dreggs of a stunning sunrise, with hardly anyone around (which may well have been due to the fact it was blowing a gale and the temperature was somewhere in the nether regions of the thermometer). Ross was heavily regretting his choice to wear shorts and their hands were still thawing when they arrived home (and this is the middle of summer!)
Sam had invested some serious time researching where to find Hobart’s best coffee, narrowing it down to two spots. We made our way to one of the spots - the Farm Gate Market - to see if he was right. Not far from our little cottage, these markets were a lot less crowded than the ones we’d visited in Salamanca yesterday and were chock-a-block full of fresh local produce, home-made treats, an impressive fleet of food trucks…and, as it turns out, excellent coffee. Thanks Sam!
We’d planned to meet up with Xuewei and Kevin this morning and go to church with them. We arrived literally on the bell, the loud clanging heralding the start of the service as we scooted across the road just in the nick of time. Everyone was super friendly and welcoming and made us feel at home. It was great to spend some more time with Xuewei and Kevin too. I struck up a conversation with the outgoing primary-schoolers, Tristan and Henry, who told me they were a bit partial to a kick of the old soccer ball. I told them my ‘boys’ were fellow football lovers and Tristan asked did I think Sam and Tobes would mind joining them for a quick game. Of course the boys obliged and they had a lovely time sharing a kick in the yard, with a fond farewell and fist pumps all round when it was time to go.
When planning our trip this time we had limited time and had to cut some places from our itinerary. Bruny Island had been one of them but our friends, Dave and Jayne, had schooled us before we left, telling us we’d be mad to miss this little slice of Tasmania and imploring us to make time to fit it in. So today we did just that. It was a 35 minute drive to the wharf, where we drove aboard and got ferried across the water to our sandy destination.
Bruny Island, at approximately 50km long, was surprisingly much bigger than I’d envisaged, Encouraged to make the lighthouse our first port of call, we were shocked when the gps told us it was a 50 minute drive away. Not to worry, we would just enjoy the scenery along the way. With Sam at the helm today, we passed dry, grassy paddocks of scattered sheep and cows and the odd rusty ute, unspoilt white sandy beaches, forests thick with gumtrees, rainforests of giant tree ferns and vast sand flats that went for miles at low tide. The “neck” of Bruny Island, where the sandy isthmus connects the north and south of the island, has a tall wooden staircase leading up to Truganini Lookout, named after Tasmania’s last surviving full-blooded Aboriginal woman. A viewing platform offers uninhibited, magnificent 360 degree views. It’s absolutely breathtaking. There was a steady stream of tourists snaking their way up the staircase by the time we arrived but everyone was patient and friendly and offering to take photos of each other. Molly was singled out by a young solo traveller and asked to take some Insta-worthy shots of him in every possible pose and position imaginable. He was having a field day setting up the shots; one minute looking wistfully out to sea, the next propping himself against the fence or crouching on the steps. Molly was tied up for about half an hour just taking his happy snaps. Just when she thought her work was done, he decided there were a few more shots to be had and called her back. Too funny.
We were on the lookout for wildlife today. Rumour has it the bush on Bruny is teeming with animals and birds and signs along the road suggest there might be some substance to these rumours. The one time I glanced down to look at my map, the whole carload erupted with the excitement of seeing a wallaby bounding along beside us. By the time I looked up, I’d totally missed him. Bummer.
Still not yet at the lighthouse, our stomachs were audibly rumbling so we thought it necessary to go in search of some sustenance. We found the cute little Mari Cafe in Adventure Bay that offered loads of Indian dishes with a smattering of cafe favourites thrown in for good measure. Molly ordered the avocado and tomato bruschetta, while Sam & I went for the smashed avo and tomato on toast. One cost $5 more than the other but when the dishes came out, they were totally identical. A trap for young players. (We can’t remember which one was more expensive but don’t say you haven’t been warned.)
Adventure Bay was gorgeous and looked tempting for a dip though we pushed on, thinking we may stop for a swim on the way back. We loved the little Bruny suburb named “Snug”, which was home to the Snug Primary School, Snug Tavern and Snug Butcher. What a cosy address.
Eventually we arrived at the famous and historic Cape Bruny Lighthouse, built in 1836 as a safety precaution after a series of shipwrecks fell victim to the rugged coast. Towering over the spectacular cliffs below, it’s the 4th lighthouse to be built in all of Australia and can be seen from miles around in all directions. It’s huge. Ross described the coastline as “stupendous” and I honestly couldn’t have put it better. Totally unspoilt and pristine, the bay, with its steady lines of swell rolling in, was truly magical. The grassy green hillside was completely littered with a variety of different sized and shaped animal excrement. This unofficial marsupial toilet block was certainly a loo with a view. I’m sure one of my kids once borrowed a book from the library intriguingly titled: “Whose Scat Is That?” which really would have come in handy at this point. I finally spotted a well-camouflaged wallaby cruising around the shrubbery (in other words, “lightening his load”) right near us, which made up for missing his mate earlier in the day.
After lots of photos and ample time just admiring the stunning vistas, it was time to head back in the direction of the ferry, with a visit to the brewery and the cheese shop planned for on the way. The weather had turned a little chilly so we decided to skip the swim. Sam and Molly had found a “short-cut” that seemed to be more of a direct route back, the only catch being that some of the road was not sealed. Rossco pointed out that Bruce, our mate at the car hire place, had warned that our insurance would be void whilst driving on dirt roads. Oh well, how bad could it be? The answer is: “quite”. As we bumped and rattled over cavernous potholes and tossed around, kicking up clouds of dust, someone commented: “if only Bruce could see us now!” The huge sign at the edge of the dirt road warned in large, bold letters that: THE COUNCIL DOES NOT MAINTAIN THIS ROAD and as it stretched on for kilometre after bumpy kilometre Sam said: “Gee, do you think the Council could just maintain its damn roads?”
When I spotted one solitary farmhouse amidst all the bush and said, “Wow, that place is really off the beaten track", Maisy gave me a wry grin and said: “Mum, this is the beaten track”. Very true.
Our “short-cut” eventually spat us out into civilisation but alas, the brewery and the cheese shop had shut up for the day. It started to spit with rain as we left the sanctuary of the island (after enduring a pretty epic traffic jam to get on the ferry) and headed home, very glad we’d taken the advice to visit this beautiful place.
Tobes, our social athlete, had another friend in Hobart to visit tonight while the rest of us dined at a very trendy Italian restaurant up the road. The menu looked incredible but the real drawcard was the pizza oven that looked like a disco ball. How cool is that?
