We came to Tasmania to walk, and that’s what we did. Well, eventually.
First we had another fabulous breakfast – really, if you’re in Hobart go to Daci & Daci Bakers. Apart from eating, it was there we met up with our group for the next few days – six of us walkers and two guides. Our fellow walkers were a couple from Melbourne and Hong Kong and an English couple doing a last bit of Australia before heading home after five years.
Our goal was Bruny Island, and what better way to get to an island than by boat. Luckily the sea was nice and calm as we sped out into the Derwent River estuary past the remnants of historic whaling and current holiday-homing. We arrived, after a bouncy thirty minutes, on North Bruny Island just south of it’s tip and then drove down to the southern end of the island.
Our walk for the day was the Queen Elizabeth track. The track started on a windswept beach with endless views down the coast – pretty much literally endless as the next thing to see, if you could see that far, would be Antarctica.
At the Northern end of the beach we detoured off into the dunes and then slid through some scrubby bushes to find a hidden shack. It had been built over years by a couple of local men using bits of a wreck. Now it makes for a cosy little hideaway where it looks like there’s more drinking done than building.
Back on the track we headed up the bluff at the end of beach to the top of soaring, jagged cliffs with an amazing view in up and down the coast and out to sea. And this incredible fresh air; beautiful, clean air. Oh, and a lunch complete with hot coffee while watching an eagle glide overhead.
After lunch we took a slightly different route back wading through the surf at the cliff edge to a secluded little beach with a perfect rock arch. The abundance of fossils was testament to the ages this area been part of the ocean.
Then it was on to oysters. Fresh oysters harvested from an oyster farm in front of our eyes and shucked on the spot. Sadly, I’m not an oyster fan – but the reviews from Jennifer and our companions were all good.
After the day’s hiking it was time to head to our camp. Now technically we were camping in that there was a tent involved. But we were stretching the definition of camping to breaking point (very much like in Africa). Our tent was a two-room construction with a real bed and pristine linen and nice, soft cotton towels ready to be used in the bush shower.
The shower was a highlight of the camp. The fact it was open on one side meant you felt like you were showering in the middle of the bush. Gas hot water meant meant you were having a fabulous warm shower in the middle of the bush. Luxury.
The luxury continued with the main camp shed where we sat amongst birds and wallabies sipping wine and eating local cheeses while an amazing dinner was prepared for us.