winter

Tasmania mid-winter 2019 - 5 - Bruny Island

in

Bruny Island was cold, which isn't a surprise as I was in Tasmania in the winter. I was as I discovered while I was there, unprepared for how cold it was going to be. 

First I had to get to Kettering, where the ferry leaves from.

On the way from Franklin I stopped off at Eggs and Bacon Bay, just because it's got a silly name and I wanted to go and have a look.

The road in is very long and sweeping. It seems like so many roads in Tasmania are excellent drivers' roads. 

There's no convenient sign to take a photo in front of and say that I've visited Eggs and Bacon Bay. Or at least not that I saw. 

It's a sleepy beachside town, with not a lot in it. 

The cove where I took some photos was very windy. 

The process for buying a ticket and boarding the ferry to Bruny Island was very simple. 

As you drive towards the ferry on Ferry Road in Kettering, you get in the left lane and then stop at a ticket box.

It's $38 dollars return, once you're past the ticket box no one looks at your ticket, I guess as there's no other way onto Bruny Island there's no reason to check your ticket.

Boarding the ferry is as simple as driving on, following the instructions on where to park.

The crossing takes about 20 minutes. You can get out of your car and walk around, take photos and do whatever if you wish.

Half way across water and waves splashed across half the cars on the ferry, so I was glad to not be standing outside. Very few people actually got out and walked around anyways. 

First thing I noticed about Bruny Island was that despite all the recent rain, how dry it was looking. 

Second thing I noticed was how untouched Bruny Island looks, much like a lot of the smaller towns I'd been to, but to a much more extreme extent that it still looks colonial era in its appearance. Undeveloped.

I stopped off at the Bruny Island Cheese and Beer Co to buy some cheese. The last time I was in Tasmania I'd bought and quite enjoyed their cheese (at Salamanca Market), so thought I'd visit while I was on the island.

I also had a croque monsieur for lunch.

And I got another of the weird pitying smiles from them when I asked what non-alcoholic options they had.

I really don't get why though, I walked in on my own, their business is in the middle of no where and it was lunch time, was I expected to order a large beer?

It was also freezing inside their shop, and they had all the doors and open, despite the wind.

Maybe I'm just a dirty mainlander who didn't get the Tasmanian weather, but the staff were all wearing thick insulated shirts / jackets. 

I thought maybe they could've closed one of the doors out onto the covered deck, or had more of a roaring fire in their wood burner.

When I commented that I'd chosen to sit at a dirty uncleared away table inside because it was freezing outside one of the waitstaff just laughed and said 'good Tasmanian winter's day'.

I didn't really have many plans beyond this, I had maybe thought about visiting the Bruny Island Lighthouse, but the temperature was falling and the ‘feels like temperature’ for the lighthouse was dropping down to fractions below 1.0º, so I made the decision to cut my day short and head to my accommodation.

The accommodation I'd booked for my single night's stay on Bruny Island was a revelation.

The host messaged me saying that I could arrive at 1:00 pm rather than the 2:00 pm check in, and that they had the fire going for me. I arrived to a really warm beach house, perfectly renovated, in a really tasteful Airbnb-friendly sort of way. And despite it being in a colder part of Tasmania, much more exposed, this beach house was so warm and welcoming (which I didn't find at the Whispering Ponies). 

I sat for a few hours just looking out at the view across the D'Entrecasteaux Channel (the channel of water between Bruny Island and Tasmania). It was a really breathtaking view and it's something I could have sat and looked at for a long time. 

My dining companion - the ugly lamp

For dinner I made my way to Hotel Bruny. 

I had fried squid as an entree and slow cooked lamb in a larger sauce. Or at least that's what it was listed as on the menu. It was more of a gloopy brown sauce, with some crunchy slithers of carrot, broccolini and beans. 

I was actually really glad to return to my accommodation. Of all the places I stayed in Tasmania this was the only place that felt warm, but not just that, cosy, friendly and it was a nice place to be. 

Only indication left of the age of the house, the rest has been perfectly renovated.

I'd happily return and stay at the 'Secret Spot', it was the perfect cosy place to stay.

Interesting thing on the return journey the following day on the ferry, it's not bi-directional. It is drive on and drive off, but on the return journey you're going 'backwards' relative to how your cars are positioning. When it gets back to Kettering the ferry turns around to allow you to drive off.

Tasmania mid-winter 2019 - 3 & 4 - Huon Valley Mid-Winter Festival

in

This is why I was in Tasmania in the dead of winter. For the Huon Valley Mid-Winter Festival. 

It's all about burning things and wassailing to the trees.

There was also a long-table banquet lunch that I attended on the Saturday.

The festival went for 3 days, the third on Sunday was a family day, I elected not to go to that.

On Friday was the welcome ceremony and the burning of 'Big Willy'.

It had been raining off and on on the lead up to the Friday and continued to do so during Friday night. 

Huon Valley Mid-Winter Festival Frday-1.jpg

I wore; a long sleeved t-shirt, an insulated flannel-esque shirt (except it was all synthetic) and then over the top a SpiritHoods faux fur calf length coat, and in all of this I was only just warm enough. 

The site the Ranelagh show grounds was already quite sodden, and would get a lot worse on the following day.

On Friday night I arrived at about 6:30 pm with the intention to get something to eat, see the welcome ceremony and burning man and then leave. 

The music held only a passing interest for me, I was mostly there for the experience.

Also, not a big drinker, while I acknowledge it's a bit of an irony to be at a cider festival and not partake all that much.

For dinner I had a smoked and slow cooked lamb shank with creamy mash, followed a while later by a fancy doughnut, which was as big as a side plate. 

Everything, it being Tasmania and a environmentally conscious festival was served in paper or bamboo fibre bowls etc, there was very little plastic around, and if it was it was bioplastic. 

Martin Maudsley

One of the highlights that I didn't expect would be was the storytelling tent, especially the international storyteller Martin Maudsley, who told quite a dark deep folk tale, which is probably quite old, I'm sure I've heard it told before, but the way he told it, just stuck with me. Looking at his website the tale was 'Wayland the Smith'.

The welcome began very mediaeval torches and people wearing furs and carrying shields.

It's very much riffing on a lot of history that doesn't quite exist in Tasmania in relation to apple harvesting and cider making and all that. But it feels genuine. 

They wound their way from the bottom of a small incline up to where 'Big Willie' was, then everything went red as flares were lit, followed by the setting alight of the 15 metre tall man. 

The music that was playing then takes a bit of a turn mixing in new age electronica and didgeridoo music along with folk music as Big Willy started to properly burn. 

Saturday 

I was there at 1:00 pm for the lunch mid-winter banquet. A long table banquet of wintery food and beverages from the cider genre.

Overnight the rain had not done great things to the site, I'd actually gotten an email saying that gumboots were essential, and that the plentiful parking in the paddock next to the site had become impassable and for 4WDs only. I elected to park there because I had a 4WD and the grass wasn't too sodden. When I came to leave later that night I still needed to engage 4WD to actually get out however. 

Also, within the festival grounds itself they'd obviously decided to try and deal with the mud by using the large amount of hay bales around the site which were for seating and dividing up areas and instead spread it out onto the mud to try and soak or spread out the mud. 

Looking at it I thought that might work for an hour or two, but it wasn't going to solve any problems. 

We were greeted with one of two cocktails during the feast. It had ice, something that given the temperature was a bit pointless. It contained...something apple, something strong and something...else. I'm not a big fan of cocktails, and struggled to identify the flavours beyond these. It was strong and I didn't finish it.

The entrees were presented off to the side of the tent and a lot of people missed them as they were walking in. 

There were slow roasted / smoked potatoes with smoked salt and aioli and also beef hanger steak, slow cooked over coals served with a salsa verde.

The potatoes were served in a little bamboo container, the beef was served with a toothpick to pick it up with.

I went back to both areas a few times because a lot of people seemed to file in, get their cocktail and then take a seat, while I as a solo dinner and attendee had no real compulsion to sit down with anyone, so I stuck around the food.

Once I got to the table, I found there was sourdough and cultured butter to eat it with.

The main course was simple, delicious, on the surface rustic, but quite complex flavours with a mediaeval bend to it. Everything was served on very heavy wooden boards. With everything cooked over or on fire. Done so by beardy men.

I did take some photos but everything was under red lights, a theme for the festival or maybe a subconscious colour trick to persuade everyone that it was warm, I'm not sure.

But even with copious amounts of colour correction I'm not sure if I've got the photos I took back to what colour they should have been (because I only ever saw it under red light).

We were served Willie Smith's French Blend cider with the meal, I had less than everyone else, but still consumed some. It was deliciously complex cider, a really delicate and complicated mix of tannins and flavours playing over the tongue and back palate when drinking it. Especially as the initial chill of the drink came away and I sipped it as it warmed a little bit. Then the lingering flavours on the tongue gave way to a earthy, punchy apple flavour, like the smell of an old apple on a tree, or being in an apple grove, it was wonderfully evocative and complicated. Writing this up now I am regretting not stopping in at Willie Smith's and buying a few to bring home with me.

While waiting for the Wassail to begin I wandered the tents of music and performance. Saw a lady begin a song by saying "this song's about euthanasia, but don't worry, it's upbeat". It was not upbeat at all, maybe if you just listened to the guitar chords it might have been. 

I also saw Martin Maudsley again who spoke with enthusiasm about a festival having a storytelling tent amongst its performance spaces. He told a story about a fish granting wishes and a devil who asked questions and a fisherman who turned into a milk farmer after giving away fish. 

Brave person in a costume on stilts on the muddy ground

He also told a story from one of the Brothers Grimm's groups of stories. But as the temperature dropped, and I rugged myself up, I became a little drowsy. I do remember sitting and listening to him. But then, and now writing this up I don't remember much from his second tale.

The bonfire was lit around 4:20 pm, and was properly alight around 20 minutes later. 

This provided a nice focal point for the festival, although I was wary of getting too close as I was wearing two different items of clothing made from faux fur; not the friendliest of materials to fire. Although there were other people in very synthetic coats and jackets that were fine standing close to the fire pits who weren't worried. But given the fluffiness of the faux fur I was a bit more cautious. 

Huonville weather 13 July 2019 6.33pm

By 5:30 pm the temperature was down to 4.8º with a feels like temperature of 1.4º, an hour later the temperature was still the same but the feels like had dropped to 0.2º.

Unlike when I was at Pumphouse Point, here the vibe, the feeling around people and place, kept my mood high. 

The rain also (mostly) stayed away during the Wassailing, which was good. I had an umbrella handy, but it was unneeded for the most part during the wassail.

We sang the wassail song, there was a shotgun that was fired. 

It was all very ancient and traditional (despite only being started here in 2014). But with the fire, flaming torches, Morris Dancers and everything else, it felt like this had been going on for years and years.

As the Wassail finished and the temperature driving further downwards from zero, and mud coming up above my ankles I trudged back to my ute and returned to the whispering ponies.

Tasmania mid-winter 2019 - 3 - Salmon Ponds

in

This is another 'checkpoint location' I had on my list of places to look at, or to use as points on a map to go the most interesting way to my destination in Franklin. 

I had intended to stop off at The Wall on my way out of Lake St Clair, but it was pouring...which turned into snowing and made me drop my speed down as visibility shifted as the weather did and I must have missed the driveway for it.

It didn't matter, not really as because of the conditions I was doing about half the speed limit as I drove away from Lake St Clair. I got a warning on my ute that the autonomous emergency breaking system wasn't functional - because I assumed snow in the sensors.

I had also intended to go to the Gordon Dam, a location I keep meaning to go to each time I visit Tasmania and every time I don't quite get out there as it's an hour and a half drive one way from the main intersecting road out there, so the 3 hours it would take out of my schedule wasn't quite worth it.

But I found Salmon Ponds while looking at a map of the area.

How the Salmon eggs were brought to Australia

Salmon Ponds is the location of where salmon farming began in Australia, there's artificial water courses, a museum and a cafe to eat.

The cafe is kind of average, it's pancake-themed, everything you can order is pancake based and comes with a salad which is fresh, but with quite a sweet dressing. 

I wandered around the ponds, had a look in the museum and finally ate at the cafe. 

I had the smoked salmon pancake which was...interesting.

It had sun-dried tomatoes, spinach and cheese. 

When I ordered it I wondered if it would be cream cheese within, with those flavours it would have been fairly pleasant.

Nope.

Tasty cheese, it all melted like in a cheese jaffle.

It was...okay?

Filling and not entirely unpleasant.

Also ordered an apple cider with my meal, thought I'd be getting a Tasmania-manufactured one. 

Nope. 

Appletiser (product of South Africa).

Salmon Ponds is interesting, a nice wander around even on a freezing day. There's a great selection of European trees that would've been planted when it was all built there, so it's quite a European-looking set of gardens.

Tasmania mid-winter 2019 - 2 - Pumphouse Point

in

Pumphouse Point is the most money I've spent, to be completely miserable. 

View from my room

It's a boutique hotel, in the middle of a lake, in a national park. 

And it's full to the brim of luxury.

And I never want to go there again.

When I arrived I was offered some of Tasmania's finest sparkling wine or sparkling water. 

When I mentioned that I didn't drink (much), the lady in charge of greeting me gave me a smile and a look, and this look I'd get a lot more during my stay in Tasmania. 

It was a sort of pitying, strange smile, that sort of said 'why not?'. 

I cannot handle alcohol, I'm a very weak drunk, and in general I don't really like wine all that much. 

I couldn't just get my key, they had to explain about dinner, was I attending and what time it was, and what time breakfast was the next morning.

In hindsight I should have opted for the dinner in my room, rather than the dinner at a specified time 'family platter-style dining'. 

I was also sort of interrogated about why I was staying there, and what I wanted out of it. 

Relaxation, business, adventure and a few other things. After a fairly long drive, which was of my own design, I thought I'd be able to arrive and check in, not be interrogated about what I wanted out of this situation. 

I said relaxation because I just wanted to relax, and go to my room.

She seemed to get a little annoyed that I was a bit tired and said 'we'll go over the rest later because you look like you want to go'. In hindsight I should have taken that as a sign of things to come. I didn't and smiled and said 'no, explain it' and she went over the times of dinner and breakfast, it was a bit of a blur and I asked if this was written down anywhere. 

No. 

And she didn't offer to write it down for me. 

Now, getting out to the pumphouse was implemented very inconsistently.

When you first arrive they take you and your bags out there on little golf carts, which given the freezing rain and wind was nice.

But, each other time you want to go back to your car, to reception, to the main building where dinner and breakfast was served you had to brave the driving wind and freezing rain.

At dinner, which I arrived late to by falling asleep in my room, rugged up because the single panel heater in my room didn't exactly fill the space with heat, I chatted to come people who didn't seem like they felt the cold even in the dining room it was cool.

When I enquired if I could get a golf cart back to the pumphouse I was sort of given a look and a few words to the affect of 'no, everyone who drives those has gone home, let me look, and I'll see, maybe I'll have to'. From my dining companions it was suggested that no, you just had to walk along there at night in the below freezing wind and rain.

I was driven back, but she made it seem like I was getting special treatment and that it was a huge imposition.

Temperature of the morning I departed.

The following morning I took my bags back to my ute, I didn't bother asking them to help me, I didn't want to go through the exasperation and annoyance from them. 

If I'd known this was going to be the case with my bags, I'd have repacked everything into my smaller bag.

Also their umbrellas were terrible against the wind and rain, a few of them were broken. I was glad I took my own with me.

On the positives. The view was amazing. The in room 'pantry' was very well stocked and you could have dinner without leaving your room.

It is a very unique location, and it is luxurious. 

I don't want to throw them under the lake, because it is all the things they promote themselves for. And I knew many of these things before going.

I think for couples it would be a much better stay, especially if you like the outdoors.

But, it was a lot of money for me to spend to be incredibly miserable.

I've stayed in a lot of average to vaguely awful places in the past. 

But they've all been quite unique and generally cheap.

Pumphouse Point was quite unique, almost to a fault.

Not remotely good for a solo traveller. 

Its foibles not well communicated either.

Next time I go to Tasmania and am looking to stay in the Lake St Clair I'd probably opt for an Airbnb in Queenstown or Strahn. 

That would offer a unique experience without superiority or utter misery inducing experience.

Alternatively...I might stay at Pumphouse Point again in the future, despite everything I've said it was a unique experience, and one I do wonder that if I experienced it in the spring, summer or even autumn I wonder if I might have a different experience to the middle of winter.

Tasmania mid-winter 2019 - 1 - Spirit of Tasmania

in

It was rough, not as rough, I would reflect as coming back, but it was rough and noisy. 

The day I was on the ferry going over to Tasmania coincided with one of the windiest days (and nights) in Victoria and Tasmania. 

As with last time, and the time before that I'd been to Tasmania, the lie of the Spirit of Tasmania adverts continued. All the adverts may say that you can just drive on and drive off in one easy fluid manner. 

The reality is a bit less romantic.

How boarding happens onto the Spirit of Tasmania at Port Melbourne:

First things first, you arrive and queue up, then get questioned by Wilsons Security. 

In queue to entrance to Station Pier.

You need to open the bonnet of your car and open up the doors and boot, or tray in my case with a ute. You will be asked if you're carrying; fuel, firearms, gas bottles, fresh fruit, fish and a couple of other things.

If you answer negative to these you will be given a red card thing to hang from your rear view mirror. 

You will then drive through the Station Pier and around the corner, none of this is very well signposted, you kind of just follow the person in front of you. 

From there, there are two queues to queue up in. A left queue and a right queue.

These lead the the ticket booth to get your boarding pass and room pass/key. 

This is important, if you're driving solo, take the LEFT queue, this is because the ticket booth is in the middle of these two lanes and if you take the right you either have to get out or reach across your vehicle to the window, like if you drove a right-hand-drive vehicle in a left-hand-drive country. 

It's terrible and something I've learnt about only from going on the ferry twice in the past. No where does it offer advice like this.

Car queuing to get onto ship

Once you have your boarding pass you're in another queue to actually get onto the ship.

The very narrow passage into the ship

If you just have your vehicle and are not towing anything then be prepared to be directed into the bowels of the ship.

Deck 2 is where I was directed this time (both going over and coming back).

It is; through the front of the ship, along a very narrow driveway, only slightly wider than most normal-sized vehicles.

Then around a corner, and down a steep ramp, the ramp is closed during sailing with a heavy door that can be driven over.

Once inside this deck you will note a few things. 

It's a weird shape, and two, you will be directed into either side of the room, which means you'll either need to do a three point turn now or tomorrow when you leave.

Deck 2.

It's very tight, although there is enough room to open your car doors, probably not to the second notch, but enough to the first.

As you leave the vehicle deck, take the bit of paper near the lift, this tells you which lift / stairs to use and where your vehicle is. 

You may be tempted to wait for the lift, and if you're old, infirm or quite unfit, take the lift. It is 5 flights of stairs to climb to get from Deck 2 up to Deck 7.

Deck 7 is where (most of) the bars, entertainment and food is. It's also where a lot of the cabins are located. Some are one deck up on Deck 8. 

I took the stairs and was a little puffed by the time I got to Deck 7.

Corridor on deck 7 - Cabins both sides.

I have in the past tried all of the cabins on offer on the Spirit of Tasmania; inner cabin (located somewhere near the engines; very noisy, full of vibrations), standard cabin (porthole view, two single beds, okay enough, above the pet deck, noisy) and the deluxe cabin, these located looking over the bow of the ship have a double bed, TV, fridge and place to sit, they're more pricey but so much easier to get a good night's sleep.

That is if you're not sailing through gale-force winds. 

Which is what I was. 

The most disconcerting thing that night was the noise of the waves hitting the side of the ship followed by the clang though its structure.

For dinner the Tasmanian Market Kitchen is a buffet, and I discovered was all you can eat. You pay your $28.50 and get a stamp, entitling you to all you can eat buffet, and it's a carvery buffet as well, with also fried stuff like chips, fish etc plus post-mix soft drink, coffee, tea and dessert. 

It's a really great deal. 

After eating I went to bed. Hoping for a easy night's sleep, uninterrupted and relaxed.

It was anything but. 

It was rough, noisy and disrupted. 

I'd never been on a ship this rough before and didn't think it'd be matched (coming back however challenged this).

The sea was rough, but it was the noise of the waves crashing into the ship combined with the noise of the wind whistling around the ship. 

It was really quite awful.

Every so often I'd hear a car alarm go off beneath me. 

This did worry me that my ute's alarm might be going off. I had gone through the manual to try and work out how to completely disable it and failed. 

But I was fairly confident that the rough seas wouldn't be affecting it, down on deck 2 of the ship, that's quite low in the ship's centre of gravity, unlike where my cabin was on deck 7, or even where the vehicles' whose alarms I could hear on deck 6 below me. 

I woke up a few times during the night from the noise of the wind, rain and sea, so I didn't end up getting the best night's sleep during the night, and arrived at Devonport the next day...less than fully rested.