The Terrific Tassie Tour 2023
30 April 2023 / Word and Photos by Rod Nicholas. More photos by Allan & Anne Caldwell
17 March to 01 April 2023
This tour (TTT23) has taken three years to complete, and it was worth every minute of it.
It was put together by our good mate Ken Keeling, whose meticulously planned program was firmed up after a full reccie run in October 2019, all ready for an April 2020 kick off. Of course, you know what happened next.
Fast forward to late 2022 when our Events Coordinator was mapping out a program for 2023. Why not give Tassie another go? After all, we already had a route, accommodation selected and so on. We just needed a sucker hero to volunteer to update a few details and voila! A new Tassie run.
Enter the redoubtable Tony McDonald and his Partner-in-Chief Iris. Hours and hours later, the Terrific Tassie Tour 2023 was on; eight cars, 16 members and guests set for two weeks of fun on the Small Island. While some changes to the original plans were needed, with Tony & Iris in charge and Ken’s blueprints, the whole thing went off like a military operation.
Many thanks go to Ken (who, with Diana, was unable to make the trip due to illness), Tony and Iris, and the rest of our tour group for making this such a memorable time.
Most of the tourers
We were departing the Big Island from the Spirit of Tasmania’s new port in Geelong, and more by coincidence than planning, we all turned up at the Geelong Waterfront around the same time. After wandering around for a bit and inspecting the artwork dotting the shores, we agreed we didn’t need to get to the ferry terminal early and promptly headed there anyway, a couple of hours short of check-in time. Turns out there is surprisingly little to do at a ferry terminal.
Boarding the ferry was a hurry-up and wait experience (if waiting to board was an Olympic sport, we’d be hot favourites in the Paris 2024 Waiting (Pointless Queues) Team event), but altogether went very smoothly. The ship left port around 9.30 pm. After convivial drinks and a bite to eat, we all had a good night’s sleep crossing a very calm Bass Strait. Sometime early the next morning we docked in Devonport where we had another Waiting Team training session leaving the ferry on Saturday morning. The little MX-5s were roughly grouped on level 5 of the ferry, and thus unloaded at Devonport quickly, but Matt and Kerry, in their MX-Subaru found themselves in the bowels of the ship, awash in the bilgewater. They may have been first on board, but they were among the last half a dozen vehicles to leave.
We took the long way to our first stop at Ulverstone and discovered a well-known Tassie secret – the roads are a hoot! So much fun, with twists and turns that guarantee a smile on the driver’s face (and maybe white knuckles for the passenger). It was here, by the way, that we noticed the first of the three potholes we saw in 2,800 km of Tassie roads.
Our next destination was Launceston, a mere 100 km down the road, but we had no intention of taking the freeway. Down here, up there, a zig here, a zag there, and we were headed for Nowhere Else. We passed Paradise, missed the Promised Land, and didn’t stop at Lower Crackpot, all the while zooming (at a responsible pace) through beautiful rural countryside.
A few days in Launie gave us time for some day trips to Beauty Point, Beaconsfield, and Rosevears and later to Low Head, Bridport and Barnbougle (where we had a delightful lunch). In Launie, we stayed a few metres from the track to Cataract Gorge and a some of our crew wandered around there (well worth the effort) and nearby sites.
The following day we were off to Scamander, about halfway between St Helens and Bicheno. The day was grey and drizzly as a we drove on to Scottsdale for our cuppa stop. We quietly (!) invaded the Art Café and demolished their supply of scones, jam, and cream. A little further on we stopped for lunch at Pyengena, some opting for the café at the dairy farm, and some the warmth of the Pub in the Paddock. Next stop was the Bay of Fires, and although drizzly, we were still able to admire the rocks that give the area its name, and snap more than a few photos. Our Scamander stop was in lieu of Bicheno (we couldn’t get accommodation there) and was a comfortable, albeit basic stopover.
Scamander to Hobart the next day took us to Bicheno and the Spiky Bridge, just out of Swansea. It’s a most peculiar sight, and there is no definitive answer to why the bridge is built the way it is.
A lunch stopover in Triabunna proved to be a hit, especially if fresh oysters and other seafood is on your list of ‘Tassie Things To Do’.
Our stay for the next few nights was the Olds Woolstore Apartments in Hobart, and it was an excellent base camp, only a few minutes’ walk to the city centre, waterfront, restaurants and fooderies and several breweries – what more could you ask for?
A ‘free’ day saw some of us take the ferry to MONA (the Museum of Old and New Art). There’s a strange mix of art here, with a fairly strong focus on the obsessions of owner David Walsh (mostly sex and death). As one of our group said, ‘negative or positive, MONA has succeeded if you formed strong opinions, more so if you express them to create an understanding of what the art means to you’. I’m betting more than a few visitors sit on the negative side of that equation.
Others tootled far and wide, heading towards Port Arthur or Richmond, or simply hung about the city.
The following day most of us hit the Salamanca Markets, accompanied by almost every tourist in Hobart and a few thousand travellers who disembarked from a cruise ship. The markets were ridiculously busy – stalls with local produce (so many distilleries!), trinkets, bespoke jewellery, not-so-cheap touristy junk, food of almost any variety – and a peak-hour plague of people. We enjoyed the traditional chockfull of scallops and scallop pies, and tasted tempting tipples and titbits until we were disgorged from the throng at the top of the hill.
Our last day in Hobart was spent travelling farther south and venturing on to Bruny Island. Coffee experiences there are slim, but there’s a damn good brewery, and fine cheese, and a spiffy lighthouse, some very pretty beaches, an unimposing pub with beaut food, and a surprising lack of attention to two of our most famous explorers (Cook and Tasman).
Our route from Hobart to Strahan cut a diagonal northwest through Tassie, traversing some beautiful country. We found coffee (eventually) at Hamilton and visited The Wall, another of Tasmania’s ‘must see’ spots. The woodwork on display there is extraordinary. A short trip to Lake St Claire proved memorable, for all the wrong reasons. One of our crew took a tumble down some stairs that brought an abrupt end to their tour, unless a side excursion via the hospital in Hobart and an early return to Canberra was part of their plans.
The rest of us muddled on to Strahan, where most enjoyed a cruise on Macquarie Harbour and the Gordon River. It’s an area steeped in the history of white settlement and is well worth a visit. An evening highlight was a performance of The Ship That Never Was, which has the honour of being Australia’s longest-running play (it has played continuously for 28 years). Based on the true story of escape from Sarah Island, it tells the tale of a heist in 1834, just before the colony was closed. A group of 10 convict shipwrights managed to steal the Frederick, the last ship built in the penal settlement, as it was about to set sail for Port Arthur. They set course for Chile and, incredibly, they arrived six weeks later. The performance is pure pantomime, involves plenty of audience participation, and genuinely funny.
After Strahan, we headed to Sheffield (via Cradle Mountain), only about 200 km up the road for our last two nights on Tassie soil. It was a good trip, marred by a drizzle every now and then, and an unexciting ‘behind the truck’ experience on a long steep hill. As we approached Cradle Mountain the weather was decidedly Tasmanian – one moment we were driving in the rain, next a hazy sort of sunlight, then fog, then clouds, then clear but overcast. We enjoyed a delicious lunch at Cradle Mountain, and a couple braved the weather to walk around Dove Lake, but most just drove on to Sheffield, the ‘town of murals’. It’s a lovely little town, and a great ‘jumping off’ spot for further travels in that corner of the island.
Our last day in Tasmania was a ‘lazy day’, spent travelling to Penguin, Burnie and then Devonport, largely just to fill in time until our 9.30pm departure back to Geelong. We found various ways to fill in the time, so it wasn’t wasted, but I think there was a quiet sense of ‘I think home sounds good’ among most.
The trip home across the Straight was a good bit lumpier than many would have preferred but we all disembarked happy and well and looking forward to the trip home.
By the time we got home we had travelled a smidgen under 4,000 km, consumed 251 litres of fuel (for which we paid $520) and spent about $2500 on accommodation. I’m not adding up the cost of tucker, refreshments, excursions, and all that, but whatever the cost it was a fantastic trip, with a fantastic bunch of people. And only three potholes in the whole damn island!
Rod Nicholas
For the full story (or a version of it) follow the links to Rod’s novel report, which is conveniently presented in two parts. It’s full of photos and stories that should explain why you should join one of the Chapters heading over to the Small Island, or just head there yourself (but either way, taking the MX-5 is a must).
