Suddenly Winter
Bucketing rain stirred me from my slumber this morning and a glance at the BOM app revealed it was a chilly 9 degrees. It was hard to believe that just a few short days ago we were plastering ourselves with suncream and looking for somewhere to escape the heat. Tasmania keeps you on your toes.
After one last visit to the Whispering Woods, it was time to pack up and bid farewell to the work experience girls, ready to tackle the rugged West Coast.
Each time we’ve left our hotel we have driven aimlessly around in the driveway for ten minutes, trying to make sense of Siri’s directions and actually escape to the road. It was only this morning that I saw the big sign at reception that said to ignore your GPS as it will try to lead you up the garden path, so to speak (a garden path suitable for 4WDs only).
Maisy was spinning the tunes and Sam was our chauffer today and after we finally managed to find the way out, we splashed our way around the bends through the pristine wilderness. It was quite rain-foresty (an emphasis on the ‘rain’ today) with dense forests of shady tree ferns fanning out along the roadside for the first winding stretch. That soon gave way to forests of tall pines. Molly commented that she hadn’t seen pine trees this tall before, to which Sam replied, “haven’t you been to Martin Place at Christmas time Molly?”
Soon our scenery became myrtle, straight-trunked eucalypt and sassafras forests, the dappled light flickering through the trees whenever the clouds parted. Beautiful Mountains rose up around us in layers and we passed lots of pretty creeks, lakes and streams. It really is so unspoilt and wild.
The temperature was dropping as the rain pelted down. We had toyed with the idea of a walk to Montezuma’s Falls, which was on the way. The falls would certainly be pumping with all this precipitation but it was a 3 hour round trip and we didn’t feel like a trudge through the sludge without gumboots or raincoats. It didn’t sound like much fun. We decided to give it a miss.
Spotting a sign for a lookout, Sam swung the Carnival into a driveway and attempted to power up the steep gravel road to treat us with the views. Our carload exploded with a barrage of “NO, NO, NOs!! ” as the wheels started spinning on the wet pebbles and we slipped and slid on the track. The old Carnival just wasn’t going to cut it. Only those of us silly enough to get wet, braved the climb on foot but we were rewarded with a view right out over the bush to the Southern Ocean, albeit a bit grey and foggy. There wasn’t a man-made thing in sight. Just wilderness as far as the eye could see. On a clear day it would have been spectacular.
Still a long way from civilisation, the boys stopped to relieve themselves behind a roadside bush. I was in dire need of the same but didn’t fancy squatting in the rain and wasn’t so sure I could find some shrubbery thick enough to hide my behind behind, so I crossed my legs and hung on, hoping for a township to materialise on the horizon very soon.
Sure enough, the little town of Tullah soon came into view, with a population of 201 (approximately) and a local pub with a loo. Phew.
Rosebury, another tiny west coast town had a top pub, named Top Pub and colourful metal statues along the side of the road and we saw a little steam train puffing away.
Eventually we pulled into our destination, the quaint and remote town on the Gordon River, Strahan. We have rented a cute little pink cottage, a stroll away from the main street, with a room full of bunk beds (should be interesting), a fireplace and a big heater. It’s even equipped with electric blankets. The temperature had soared to a balmy 13 when we arrived, so we cranked the heater to 30 degrees (the actual temperature in Sydney today) and settled in for a snuggly afternoon of board games, books and banter - the cricket droning on in the background, a reminder that it was still summer.
We’ve noticed that the overall price of food is slightly higher in Tassie; in restaurants as well. The recommended hot spot for dinner tonight, was the waterfront local pub in the heart of town but the main meals - just burgers and parmis- were all around $50 a pop, making it a bit steep, even by city slicker standards. Ross let his fingers do the walking and found us an alternative place to eat, a little tavern further up the road.
This cute local had a couple of lovely ladies - one of them the publican - running the joint. Mandy took the orders (not proficient in the art of the eftpos machine) and Vicki ran the eftpos machine (not too good with computers). They were the salt of the earth and knew everyone who stepped through the door by name. We felt like outsiders and Ross did make waves when he pushed a couple of tables together. I suspect we’d probably plonked ourselves in someone’s regular spot.
There was some confusion at the bar when a customer ahead of me in the line, deviated from her usual and ordered a Bloody Mary.
“Ooh, what’s in that one love? That’s exotic!”
“I think you’d best Google it.”
A quick call through to the kitchen ascertained the good news that they did have a dormant can of tomato juice in the kitchen and the even better news was that it was still within its expiry date. The bad news was, it was up on the highest shelf and neither Mandy or Vicki - slightly vertically challenged - could reach it. Not to worry. High-Vis Harry put his James Boag down to come to the rescue. Crisis averted. They were quite chuffed with the finished product and the eyes of an admiring crowd watched on as they read the ingredients out loud and concocted their cocktail step-by-step. Bloody Mary, bloomin’ miracle.
Our meals took just over an hour to arrive but we soaked up the atmosphere and eavesdropped on the talk of the town.
When we finally emerged, there was a brief break in the weather so we could have a little wander without getting wet. The clouds even parted, allowing us to take some quick pics of the west coast sunset.
Humming to myself: “we’re all going on a summer holiday…” I snuggled into my electric blanketed bed and hoped the sun might make an appearance tomorrow.
