Category: Tasmania

Dec 07, 2012

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Surprises and seals in stunning Stanley Tasmania

Our second morning in Stanley, Tasmania was unlike anything I could have imagined it would be. Having just gone on a whim, we didn’t really have any crazy high expectations of what to see or experience, but just one hour out on a small fishing boat made started our day off right.
We had met Les the day before to talk with him about taking us out to see the seals before we left Stanley. We explained we were on a time crunch, and he was more than accommodating at making sure we get the most out of our time there.
Les is a local boat maker and charters fishing boat trips for Stanley tourists. His boats and craftsmanship were beautiful, sleek and elegant. He had three boats on display in his garage, one of which he made from scratch as part of a program with local kids to keep them off the streets and out of trouble. The other two boats were restorations that he was working on refurbishing and selling to those who have their hearts set on the sea.

We met Les at about 7:30 in the morning, dressed in fleece jackets, jumpers and layers of socks. We also decided to bring a blanket with us, just in case we needed it; however, our friend Les set sail in a tee and shorts. Shows how “city folk” we are. (Dane will definitely not agree with that comment as he considers himself a wilderness man.)
The boat was small and personal, a comfortable way to enjoy our morning. We drove about ten minutes from shore before coming to this small little island – more like a rock, really – that was swimming with Tasmanian fur seals, which were once bordering extinction.
Literally, there were seals on seals on seals all around. There must have been more than a hundred just lounging around on this rock, basking and relaxing the morning away. We even got to experience the other side of things that the touristic boat doesn’t dare venture to. Les took us in a circle around the rock so we could get a whiff of that real seal smell. It was inebriating and foul and was so strong it was like hitting a wall. We made it, though – we city people have strong stomachs.
Our brains and eyes were in excitement overload as we struggled to keep track of all the seals swimming about us. Just as we pulled near to the rock, in the water they went and were so “inquisitive (Dane’s word of the trip)” that they were practically trying to climb into the boat with us. They swam and swam and swam, and all I wanted was to pet one or take one home as a pet.
In the process of writing this blog, I had a bit of a break down because I realised that our photos are gone and missing.  We were mad enough at ourselves for forgetting to take a picture of us with the seals in the background, but now we have next to none at all. There is nothing more frustrating than MIA photos. These are the best I have to offer, unfortunately. If only I could import the photographic moments from my mind.

Dec 06, 2012

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Eight Things I learned about Tasmania

We made it, there and back, safe and sound and on an extremely elated travel high. (I started Googling flights to Vanuatu, an island in the Pacific, Philippines, New Zealand and Sri Lanka just as we were boarding the ferry to return home.)
I get my journalistic curiosity from my father, who is very interested in Tasmanian devils.
It turns out that:
a.)   Tasmania is really much smaller than one might think before arriving
b.)  Tasmania really does exist, as does the Tasmania devil.
The one question I’ve gotten from most everyone back home has been, “So there really is a Tasmania, hey?”
OK – I added the “hey” at the end. No one from Brooklyn adds “hey” at the end of their sentences unless they’ve been around the world and back (re: Allie Babez, but I haven’t quite made it back yet now have I?).
So yes, Tasmania, aka “Tassie”, really does exist, and it’s unbelievably and impressively beautifully mind-boggling.

Tassie is one of Australia’s six states. (I know, it’s a country and a continent but has only six states? Don’t worry; there are also two territories!) It’s a small island and according to the Rediscover Tasmania tourism website, it’s is described at the “best place in the world”. OK – that is a bit of a bold statement, though I will admit it’s beaten any possible expectation or preconceived notions I may have held before coming here.

Tasmania sits about 240km (150 miles) southeast of mainland Australia, is about the size of West Virginia and boasts a population of about 500,000 people. It’s made up of more than 300 islands and is surrounded by some of the most stunningly majestic scenery nature can offer. To say I’m a lucky traveler would be a bit of an understatement.
A year ago I couldn’t have guessed that I’d be caravanning my way through Tassie, but here I am. What do I think so far? Well, here’s another list for you:
a.)   People are so super friendly.Australians are known for their light-heartedness, and most every foreigner who’s visited here leaves with the same impression as Aussies being all-around happy blokes and sheilas. Well, they’d be blown away if they came to Tassie. The people here are on another level of friendliness, and everyone is interested to know where I come from.
b.)  Make sure you arrive at small towns before 5 p.m. Why? Dane and I have learned the hard way that everything – shops, pubs, restaurants (if all of those things can even be found in the one town) – closes by 5 p.m.
c.)   Tasmanians are fond of using the expression “Thank you. Ta.” Now, I don’t really know what the “ta” means. Dane says it means thank you, but why would people say thank you twice in a row?
d.)  Tasmanians seem to be a bit on the heavier side.  You would think with the world closing down at 5 p.m., these people would be on the thinner and slimmer side. Let’s just say plus sizes reign strong.
e.)   It’s perfect for the outdoorsy and nature lovers of the world. Tasmania is overflowing with raw beauty that juts and bubbles out of the ground and encompasses everything around you. It offers loads of lakes for kayaking, trails upon trails to explore, mountains to climb and white sandy beaches to melt away into.
f.)    It’s on the perplexing side. Let me explain. I’m from NYC, but I’ve seen my fair share of the world. There are expanses of vast emptiness here dotted with houses every half hour. We once drove through a town centre that consisted of a pub and a post office. I immediately posed a couple of questions: Do these people know what it’s like to go to the movie theatre to watch a film and gorge on the most buttery popcorn imaginable? Do they know what Chinese food even tastes like? Do they ride horses to school? Is there even a school around? Do the families just sit sweating in the summer time trying to soak up a breeze from one single run-down fan they have plugged in? I was so intrigued by their complete isolation from the rest of the world. What kind of conversation could I have with these people? They’re sort of like the Amish, except they can drive cars.
g.)   Scallop Pies. Australians love meat pies, and I certainly became a follower within the past 7 months; however, it seems Tasmania is famous for its scallop pies. I can’t quite remember what a scallop is, but I don’t think I can leave Tassie without trying one. It just doesn’t seem right. Bring on the kilos!
So there you have it. Those were my first impressions and reflections of Tasmania. Most everyone also told me to check and make sure the Tassie’s we meet have ten fingers and ten toes – if not, it’s a sign of incest, which many believe runs rampant here. I can now understand why. It’s sort of like those beliefs we hold of those states in the centre of USA – who knows what goes on in those cornfields of Kansas.
Nov 26, 2012

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The Spirit of Tasmania post-Thanksgiving

Despite my food-hangover, Dane and I left early Friday morning to get on the road and head down to a suburb of Melbourne, where we’d catch the “ferry” over to Tasmania.
Now, I’ve experienced a bit of culture shock in the past couple of months living here, but nothing too drastic. When I say I was stunned when we arrived at the port to catch what Dane and his parents repeatedly called. “ferry”, i mean I was actually shocked (#MollyLauraCarel).
I know I am in Australia. I know I am not in some developing Asian county or living on the 15 dollar a day shoestring backpacking budget, but still – my modes of transport the past couple of years have been anything but luxurious. I once shared a bed on an overnight ferry with my friend and one random Chinese teenager while traveling to an island off China while 7 people shared the bed above us. I won’t even begin to broach the Indonesian ferry Marika and I took to get to Pulau Weh for my birthday. Let’s put it this way: I rode with a random Indonesian child basically in my lap for hours. I was sweating balls (cue Jeanne’a laughter and my dad’s disapproving eye roll), and it just wasn’t a pretty sight.
Anyway, more to my point: The Spirit of Tasmania 2 was like a five star cruise liner. I think Dane thought my shock was a bit strange, but I couldn’t help it. It took about 20 minutes to register that this beautifully enormous, 9-level boat complete with restaurants, a theatre, a game room, bars galore an a casino was ours to enjoy. I didn’t even need any of those things (except maybe the restaurant), but having them all at my fingertips made me feel spoilt.
We had reclining chairs fit for a king, but unfortunately we had quiet a loudly snoring neighbour.
When we arrived in Devonport, Tasmania, the next morning, it felt all too similar to those backpacking adventures of arriving to a new place at 6 a.m. Nothing is open, you sit in a bit of a daze as the sleepiness still tries to sneak up on you and take hold of you. You sprawl out maps and try to plan your next move, but all things are such a blur and you somehow find yourself on the move with nothing to go on.
Dane hates when, for example, I point ahead to a road that looks interesting and ask him what’s down that wag. He’s never been before, so he looks at me with a blank stare and sort of ignores the question. I did that about fifteen times while we say around in Devonport, waiting for the crisp morning air to subside and the fog to settle so we could better plan our day.
Oh, the spontaneity of traveling. It will never get old.
More to come from the land of devils.