Historic North
Our Tasmanian adventure commenced when Joan and Johnny Griffiths along with Joye and I flew into Launceston on 17 February 2011. We had planned a circuit of the Island, leaving on 3 March. Joye and I had been to Tasmania on two previous occasions, but the first trip was in the 1970’s so the land and our memories had changed a lot in the intervening years. Joan and Johnny were in Tasmania for the first time. They live in Hexham, UK (near Hadrian’s Wall), so were a long way from home. Their Australian holiday had started in Perth (WA) some two weeks previously and had clocked up 3,000 km of touring around South-West WA. They had toured with their daughter (Joanne) and niece (Jill) so were settled into the tourist lifestyle.
Our plan was to satisfy our tourist instincts by viewing the North for three days, before tackling the prime tourist sites of the Central and Western districts of Tasmania. Cradle Mountain and Strahan were allocated 5 days before spending the next 3 in Hobart and its surrounds. We would then progress via Port Arthur to the East cost up to the Wine Glass Bay region and onto the Bay of Fires before heading back to Launceston for our departure.
Our plane landed early in the day so we set a full day’s itinerary to match our enthusiasm. Within 30-minutes of our flight landing, we were in our X-Trail hire car and heading for Evandale, an historic village close by. The attractions of Tasmania were immediately noticeable… clean air, green grass… roadsides covered with buttercups and clouds of butterflies. Outside of Evandale we visited the historic Cox family home at Clarendon House. This is Australia’s only home that had its own private railway line. The house was built in 1838 and was the centre of a substantial grazing industry. (see more details at http://www.nationaltrusttas.org.au/properties-clarendon.htm)
One aspect of the visiting arrangements struck Joan as unusual. Visitors were encouraged to tour the house unsupervised. The valuable historic artefacts were displayed with no security guards or protective cases. Stately homes in the UK usually have tight security to protect their displays.
On our last day before flying back to Sydney, we visited Woolmers’ Estate at Longford, another nearby stately home. This home remained in the one family (six generations of the Archer family) and reflected the home life of the earliest settlers (the house commenced construction in 1813 and the final extension was built in 1835. The last of the Archer owners died in 1994 and left the property to the Woolmer Trust. The site is one of the best preserved in Australia. The original Thomas Archer decreed in his will that no fixtures and fittings were to leave the estate… and subsequent generations observed his wishes. It is surprising that a house of such scale could be constructed in rural Tasmania only 25 years after Governor Phillip hoisted the flag in Botany Bay. http://www.woolmers.com.auBack to our first day of activity… we drove from Evandale to Launceston and booked into our Motel before driving up the Tamar valley to the mining town of Beaconsfield (recently remembered by the mine disaster in 2006). We experienced the changeable Tasmanian weather with a heavy thunderstorm that trapped us inside the mining museum at Beaconsfield. Displays featured the nature of the 2006 disaster and the heroic efforts of locals to rescue their colleagues. Those suffering claustrophobia would not have enjoyed seeing the tiny space the two survivors (Brant Webb (37) and Todd Russell (34)) lived in for 14 days.
On driving back to Launceston we crossed the impressively different Batman Bridge and still had enough sunlight to walk the track at the Launceston Gorge. This was a useful measure for the improvement in fitness we achieved in our 15 day holiday. We averaged some 4 km of walking each day… some over tracks that required reasonable fitness. The Launceston Gorge walk was not challenging, but we puffed and panted our way over the track. It is surprising that such a wild gorge sits in the middle of the comfortable city of Launceston. We enjoyed the city’s comforts by dining on seafood looking over the marina in glorious sunshine.
The next day we travelled to Stanley at the tip of Tasmania’s north-west corner. We made the trip via the Liffey Falls. Using our limited navigational resources, we ended up using roads made by the timber getters. We saw lots of quiet nooks and crannies as we attacked a couple of serious hills on our way to Liffey Falls. We knew Tasmania had one or two trees… but even on our second day we realised this island is more than pulling its weight in managing Australia’s carbon footprint. The walk down to Liffey falls took us past some very large trees… not the tallest in Tasmania… but claiming to be the biggest mass. We went through forests of giant ferns following the river down to the falls. The falls are not spectacular… but they are pretty. There were some good photo opportunities; enough to send us happily on our way towards Stanley.
Our accommodation was at the Cable Station located 5 km out of Stanley sitting amongst fields of opium poppies and onions. Our apartment was very comfortable, even having its own (historic) telephone exchange. We had enough time to complete a walk to the top of the Nut… not a trivial feat when dealing with paths angled at 40 degrees. The wind was blowing a gale from the summit that gave the walk a sense of adventure. The sun had set by the time we decended. On the way down, we passed families of wallabies grazing between the shrubs. That evening we dined at the local pub. The local charity was having their Friday Night raffle… and in a sense of being good community citizens, we all bought tickets. Johnny has a history of winning games of chance (Jammy Johnny) and that night was no exception. He won a couple of bottles of ‘cruisers’ (alco-pops) and Joye won a bottle of wine. We ended up with an inexpensive supply of alcohol for the rest of the week.
Stanley has retained its historic town centre. Tiny wooden fishing huts line the streets giving the place charm to burn.
Over night we experienced a vigorous storm. The noise of the wind against the windows was worrying. In the morning we saw that water had been driven under the window sills and doors. We left Stanley in heavy driving rain, all wanting to return at some future date to again enjoy its special atmosphere. But we were on our way to the challenge of the National Park at Cradle Mountain… and the high altitude environment on offer.
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