Tasmania

Vandeman’s Land ! was what tassy was called before it became Tasmania. I traveled to Tasmania in the Christmas break of 2006. My decision to visit tassy surprised quite a few of my office mates in Sydney, but I was determined to see the land of the Tasmanian tiger.

I can’t really say what expectations I had for the trip but there was a sense of excitement, as Tasmania to me was always a land of unknown, it was something of a mystery to me since I heard of it.

I reached Hobart airport on 23 December at 3 pm. The air was crisp and chilly. Hobart was a small airport full of people in their late 50’s waiting to receive their relatives coming home for Christmas break. This made me a bit home sick but was happy seeing the families reunite and celebrate.

My colleague and travel mate Jay and I caught a taxi to a backpack. We stayed there the night and were ready to be picked up by our tour operator ‘Adventure Tours” in the morning. The deal we booked with the operator was 7 day tour of Tasmania in a bus, with a bunch of 10-15 other people, food and accommodation provided.

I am from a town called Jodhpur in India and have traveled India extensively. I have been working in Australia for a year. Jay is from India and is working with me in the same organization. Jay was the life of the travel group in days to come, he achieved the amazing feat of taking to everyone on the bus on the first day of the journey.

Mr Ho chin min and his family were waiting in the cold early morning air for the same tour bus we were waiting for and Jay an extrovert pounced on the chance to make acquaintance with them. The first four passengers in our journey were Mr Ho Chi Min , his wife, his son 10 and his daughter 12. They were from Hong Kong. Mr Ho Chi min was a lawyer as I found out in one of my few conversations with him during the tour. I haven’t got much to talk about the family as they were enjoying a quite family break and were not involved in the travel mate’s discussions.

The bus was full in the next 20 minutes and we headed off for our first destination a walk through the Tall trees. Our destination was an hour’s drive North West of Hobart. Matt the tour guide came across as a knowledgeable and a friendly person. The morning was cold and we sat quietly in the bus.

As we arrived at the destination, I saw in front of me trees 200 -300 ft high, it was an absolutely fascinating sight. It was here that I struck up my first conversation with Markus and received quite a rude reply; I realized later in the day that he was not being rude but that his English was not good. Markus was from Switzerland and was on a 4 month holiday exploring Australia .The hour long walk amongst the trees went well and trip had begun to show some promise.

Our next destination was Lake St Clair 4 hours North West of Hobart. It had started to rain when we reached there. The lake was surrounded by undulating rugged landscape and gum trees; it looked pretty harmless, before matt told us that it was 200 meters deep in the centre. The walk around the lake took us about two hrs. My first talk with Mark was during this walk. Mark is an accountant and lives in Melbourne. I could gather from his ascent that he was from England. Mark moved to Australia about a year ago. He came across as a friendly person and kept me good company during the trip.

I felt along the walk as if someone here had stopped the clock thousands of years ago. The tall gum trees stood in the distant horizon like wise men deep in thought. The bushes looked as if they were still evolving from some kind of a primitive life form. The lake was placid yet it looked as though it held deep secrets and the air had a special feel to it. There was music in the silence around us. I was overwhelmed by the way this place had touched me.

There is an over the land trek of 80 miles which goes from Lake St Clair to Mt. Cradle. I will someday return to do this trek.

We headed off to our next destination, Tullah. Tullah is an old mining town with 150-200 households. It’s on the western coast of Tasmania. It’s a remote town with minimal connection to the outside world. Mobiles don’t work here and there are no weather forecasts for the place. We reached tullah in the twilight. Our guest house was a motel called lake side chalet. It was situated on Lake Tullah and was surrounded by mountains on all the sides.

It was a chilly night and the travel mates gathered around the fireplace to talk. One of the chores the travel mates had to do was clean the dishes and there was somewhat off a standoff between Matt and the group but the issue was resolved harmoniously with boys doing all the washing.

The next morning, Christmas brought rain to tullah. I got up around 6 a.m and went to visit the lake. The lake and the mountains overlooking it were shrouded in mist. I was so close to nature; I was all alone in the fresh morning air there was not a soul in sight, it was wonderful.

At 8 a.m in the morning we proceeded to our 10 km trek of Montezuma falls. It was raining heavily when we reached the start of the climb, the temperature must be sub 10 C. We walked 2 hours in rain to reach Montezuma, which was in its full flow because of the lashing rain. The approach to the falls was a road surrounded by dense tropical/ temperate forest. When the sun shone intermittently, I could see the variety in the vegetation and how beautiful and dense it was. While returning I conversed with Marie. She is from France and is currently working in Melbourne. She was quite pleasant and my lasting impressions of her during the trip were she was here in the quest for the unknown and would take time off the group to quietly enjoy the spectacle on offer.

It was this day that I fully understood why the west coast of Tasmania is considered wild. I was cold and wet after the trek to the falls. We were supposed eat lunch at Strauhn and the 30 minute bus ride to strauhn was one of the most difficult rides of my life. I was shivering and my feet were numb. Because of Christmas all the restaurants were closed and Matt decided we return to Tullah to have our Christmas Lunch. It was during this ride I became friends with Bart , when he generously offered me a fresh pair of socks. I am still grateful to Bart when I think that how much difference those socks made in my journey back to Tullah.

Bart and Vendy are Dutch and were touring Australia for a month. Bart is an auditor by profession and has one of the funniest ways of saying Mate. I got along with him quite well. Vendy was Bart’s girlfriend; don’t have much to say about her as I didn’t interact with her much.

The Christmas lunch around the fireplace in lake side chalet was a big relief from the cold. Amazingly it snowed on Christmas on the mountains in Tullah. I saw Sun, Rain and Snow in a day….amazing!!! Spare a thought for Marcus who had come all the way Switzerland to enjoy a Sunny Christmas!!!

The Christmas lunch and the evening to follow was a time to relax. Catherine, Frank, Connie were some other travel mates I came in contact with. Some decided to canoe in Lake Tullah but I was not up to it and spent my time having a quite Christmas. The accommodation at Tullah was good.

Day 3, we left Tullah for Cradle Mountain world Heritage Park. It’s a two hour ride north east of Tullah. Cradle Mountains are so called because they are shaped like a cradle. The mountains had a lake at the bottom. We were to trek to the mountain top but the weather was not clear and hence decided to take a walk around the lake. The initial chill that I faced on getting out of the bus at Cradle Mountains was shocking, but soon I got acclimatized to the conditions. The day developed into a beautiful sunny day against all weather predictions and the sights were spectacular.

Some of the flora found in this region is found in Antarctica, once again I was left dumb stuck as I saw earth the way it was may be thousands of years ago. I once again realized how inconsequential time was at this place.

Beautiful sunshine and warm weather greeted us when we crossed over to Davenport on the east coast. The group thoroughly enjoyed the weather after being through very unpredictable weather in the last three days. Davenport is a nice,relaxed town but the food is not available after 8 in the night. We celebrated our night in Davenport with a party. I conversed with Joanna a polish TV show director and was amazed to know she had directed the polish idol. All were in a good mood and party went late into the night.

The Brazilian girls in our group had taken the tour with wrong expectations. They had sunny beachy tour on their mind and would get into the bikinis at the first opportunity. Unfortunately it was quite cold but I guess the realization never sank in!!!

Day 4 and we were off to the beautiful white beaches of the Bay of Fires. The beaches are so called because the aboriginal people used to light up fires along the beach and explorers in their ships saw the fire. The wind was chilly and the southern ocean water was cold. I did not dare to take a swim but Matt and some others did.

The beaches were absolutely white and pristine and empty. We headed on to Bischeno a small town on the eastern coast of Tasmania. Bischeno is some place I would like to retire to. The road stretches all along the ocean and it’s a beautiful site.

The next day we went to wine glass bay. It was a two hour walk from the parking to the beach. Bart kept on taking pun at the Dutch sportsmen all the way. The beach was white and pristine and I finally mustered up courage to take the swim. I was numb at first but the eased after five minutes, the water was beautiful and I am glad I decided to be brave. We climbed up the mountain top to see wine glass bay views . The walk was tiring but the views were worth it.

Our next stop was Port Arthur. We stayed in a house near a cemetery, and if that was not spooky enough some of us decided to take the Ghost Tour. I had a wonderful time that night and was in one of the best moods in months. We sung and danced late into the night as tour was coming to an end.

We visited the Port Arthur prison the next day. I was reading a book called “Papillion” an autobiography of a prisoner’s life in French guinea prisons in the 19^th century and I could see and live all the stories at Port Arthur. The prison has been preserved wonderfully.

I wouldn’t say I got along with all the travel mates but by then I had identified my group and was comfortable with it. We left for Hobart the same day. At Hobart the Sydney to Hobart race was drawing to a close and the town was full of sailors. Reaching Hobart was like being a part of the civilization once again after experiencing the Unknown; I do not know which one felt better.

As my 1500 kms of journey around Tasmania drew to a close, I recalled all the good and bad moments of the trip, but the lasting memory was the glory of nature in its primitive form and vastness of the uninhabited areas. I just hope I return to this ancient land some time again.