Random Adventuring: Hobart

MID-MARCH 2013 and cricket fans around Australia are glued to their internet connections. As of March 14 all six states had a chance of making the Sheffield Shield final, with four of them an excellent chance of hosting it should results go their way.

I won't bore you with the details, but the end result was that my home state of Queensland would play Tasmania down in Hobart. Chatting it over with the boss I mentioned something along the lines of how good it would be to be there if Queensland managed the win. He reckoned I should get my arse down there, and he was right: it was the perfect combination of four days off work, my team playing a final somewhere I'd never been before - and most importantly, money on the plastic.

Debt repayments be damned*!


FIRST up I actually had to get there. With a limited time before I had to be back in Brisbane for work on the Wednesday I had to catch a 5am flight down to Sydney before connecting through to Hobart. Now the key thing when you have such an early flight is to pack the night before and get an early night. What I actually did was stay up until all hours celebrating the marriage of two good friends before coming home three-parts elephant trunk, forcing a bunch of clothes, toiletries and camera kit into a ridiculously small carry-on bag, grabbing a couple of hours sleep before spending the taxi ride to the airport trying to do up my shoelaces.

With such a great lead-in the trip down was spent either pushing out the big zzzz's or pushing in a Red Rooster combo at Sydney Airport. It wasn't until Captain Speaking told us in a pleasing baritone we were approaching Hobart International that I woke up and began peering out the window at the only Australian state that had thus far eluded me.

Now it would be a shame to visit somewhere new and spend the entire time at the sporting ground/pub, and as such had a rough idea what I would do. The plan was to arrive, head straight over to Bellerive Oval for the rest of that day's play, then alternate between the game and sight-seeing depending on how well Queensland were doing. Not knowing how expensive Hobart taxis were (and not being keen to find out after the $60 cab fare to Brisbane Airport), I decided to ask a shuttle bus driver how close he could drop me to the ground. The answer was not that close, although according to Google Maps (how did we travel before smartphones?) it would be a pleasant walk. This would no doubt have been the case, only for a squall to pass overhead, forcing me to take cover at a funeral home before arriving at the ground in brilliant sunshine to find play stopped after the groundsmen had taken their time getting the covers on.

This turned out to have an unexpected bonus. Heading into the main pavilion I found the Tasmanian Cricket Museum, which not only listed modern-day greats like Ricky Ponting and David Boon, but also included the history of cricket on the island. This included a panel on Charles Eady's unbelievable 566 not out for Break-O'-Day back in 1902. Other sections included lists of all Tasmanian first-class cricketers both pre- and post-Sheffield Shield entry; about the only thing missing was mention of Boonie's tinny-drinking record on the 1989 Sydney-London flight.

Play eventually got back underway with Queensland struggling against an excellent Tasmanian attack. Rather than sit around listening to locals crap on about their boys I decided to try and work off the previous night's festivities by walking into the city. After heading back to where the bus dropped me off I learnt a very important lesson about walking in Hobart:

Don't walk over the Tasman Bridge.

Seriously. The pedestrian/cyclist pathways are about 2 metres wide and right next to six lanes of traffic in what was 20 minutes of carbon monoxide poisoning on an island famous for its clear air. By the time I'd made it up and down the graceful arch I had the flu, black death and a nasty little sniffle. South of the Derwent was a little better, with the pathway a good few metres up and away from the freeway.

I eventually made it into Hobart's compact city centre and checked into the Mecure Hadleys Hobart. Now for those that haven't stayed in a nice place for a while - and this is a nice place - I will warn you that many large chains now take a pre-authorisation on your credit card; ie they put a hold on a certain amount of cash that you won't be able to use until your bank decides you can have it back. This varies from place to place, so I suggest doing what I did and calling to see how much it will be, budgeting for it, then hoping like hell the bank releases it before petrol prices rise by 12c/l. But I digress.

After a quick snooze (sleep on a plane not being all that helpful after two hours sleep the night before) it was down to Salamanca, host to a world-famous market every Saturday. This being a Sunday, locals and tourists alike were thin on the ground. After a quick blockie with the windows wound down and house music blaring I decided to dine at a James Squire bar, where I had an adequate, if slightly overpriced, pizza and beer. Then back to the hotel bar for my first Cascade in Tasmania.

Tasted good.


MONDAY, and I was a bit excited. After dragging my sorry carcass out of bed relatively early (did I mentioned I'd only had two hours sleep on the Saturday night? Because I totally did.) it was down to the harbour for the ferry out to the controversial Museum of Old and New Art (MONA). According to the good people at Wikipedia MONA is the largest privately-funded museum in Australia; having now spent some time there it's unlikely any government would have had the courage to do it themselves.

On arrival you leave your bags in the cloakroom, grab a portable guide (free of charge) and descend into the depths of the building. Your portable guide not only tells you where you are, but also has sections like "Gonzo" and "Art Wank" for more detail on a particular work. I managed to end up in the adult-only section pretty quickly (it's on the bottom floor - teehee I just wrote "bottom" - which is where you start) and while works like the painting of a transgender person didn't bother me, Juan Davila's Arse End Of The World certainly did. I won't go too much into it, other than to say I'm pretty sure Burke & Wills never interacted with local flora and fauna quite that way.

While I'd heard about MONA before the idea of heading to Tasmania even came to mind, I didn't realise the main building was on the site of a winery. Despite Queensland starting to run through the Tasmanian second innings over at Bellerive, I simply had to (I'd pre-paid and was determined to get my $10 worth) do a wine tasting. Although I booked a set time it turns out you can rock in pretty much any time you want to - not that I minded waiting as it was 20 degrees and cloudless outside. The wines themselves were quality and it was only the safety measure of leaving the credit cards at home that stopped me from signing up to their wine club and having eight bottles delivered to my door every three months. Still wouldn't mind, but there's nowhere online to sign up. I also gave the locals beers a crack and very much enjoyed them as well.

So back on the ferry, back to the room briefly to drop off the daypack and off to sample some more local culture. This time is was at the Lark Distillery where for $10 I got to sample some of the local whiskeys. I don't normally drink whisky but enjoyed this, chatting away to the bartenders from New Zealand and Warwick, Queensland respectively. By the time they kicked me out for closing I was in a pretty good mood - so good in fact I decided to go back to the James Squire pub, spend nearly $50 on a steak and a pint, and proceed to watch my beloved North Queensland Cowboys play like the Nauru under-19s and get thrashed by Newcastle.

So much for the bloody smile. Only started coming back when the lovely barmaid at the hotel bar decided to fill - and I mean fill - my wine glass when I popped in for a nightcap. A couple of minutes later she told me it was last drinks; a bit redundant seeing as it took me another hour to finish the wine glass.


TUESDAY dawned with the realisation that 10 o'clock was checkout and I wasn't nearly in the mood to, you know, be awake. I eventually dragged my sorry carcass down to reception then set about finding breakfast. While scouting Salamanca I discovered a book store and found myself $40 lighter and 1kg heavier; soon afterwards I found a spot at the busiest cafe and settled in for breakfast. The pancakes and bacon were delicious; the service somewhat lacking. In fact, 30 minutes after they'd cleared my plate I was still reading one of the books, wondering if anyone would notice either my empty coffee cup or me walking out without paying. Honesty got the better of me this time around, although next time I find myself breakfasting in Hobart they'd want to be keeping a closer eye on things.

A bit of a wander around Battery Point and I found myself with some time to kill. Queensland were now no chance of snatching an amazing victory, which ruled out Bellerive. I'd already done quite a bit of walking over the previous few days so was pretty keen to rest my feet. Wandering into a bar by the bay I found two different cricket games on the tv, cold beer and a hot barmaid.

I'd found home for the next few hours.

A few beers, a few sledges from locals about the Shield final, and some fish and chips down by the water and it was time to jump on the bus back to the airport. Although I only made it down for a few days it was easy to see why Lonely Planet rated Hobart as one of its "Best in Travel" for 2013 - and I hadn't even been there over a weekend! Proof that sometimes the most random travels are the best.


* Only joking about that debt repayment thing. I take my obligations to Dewey, Nee-Capem & How very seriously and very much enjoy being able to walk along such magnificent structures like the Tasman Bridge.

Kicking Back...

YOU ever seen people that come back from holidays in need of a holiday?

You know the type: they've spent their entire holidays travelling to some exotic destination, researched all the major sites then spent the whole time trekking from sight to sight without relaxing properly, which always seemed to me to be the whole point in going on holidays in the first place.

In honour of this - and some fabulous weather - I am proud to announce that I spent my first couple of days staying at Base Magnetic Island doing pretty much nothing.

Actually, that's only semi-true. I arrived on the Saturday and simply had to get out to watch the Queensland vs Auckland rugby semi-final. The guys on the desk were kind enough to point me to a sports bar about 20 minutes walk away, where the good guys (the Reds) won to set up a fantastic few days.

The next two days were spent basically reading and sleeping. Base Magnetic Island is located right on the beach, so I had the choice of sitting in a hammock and swaying myself to sleep; or grabbing a chair right outside my room and going through the books I'd bought at the Airlie Beach Book Exchange.

Night times were a little more exciting, with a V8 supercar on site Sunday to help promote the Townsville 400 the following weekend. Monday was time for Bar Wars, where teams did everything from a scavenger hunt to tossing water balloons to musical chairs with a difference...

Tuesday I decided to actually get off my bottom and grab a bicycle for the day. There's plenty to see on the rest of the island, including any number of bays and an old World War II fort built to help protect the Townsville shipping industry.

Unfortunately Magnetic Island is a wee bit hilly, meaning that the first part of my trip up to Horseshoe Bay was largely spent pushing the bike up a 14% incline and swearing and cursing that I hadn't hired a scooter instead. About the only things that kept me going were the stunning views around every corner and the knowledge that while 14% is hard to ride up, it's also a lot of fun to ride back down.

One sore bottom and a memory card full of photos later it was time to relax as Will gave us bingo with some bango - a funny way to finish a great stay on Maggie.

A great place for a proper holiday!

My Whitsunday Sailing Adventure...

HIGH winds that never stopped; choppy seas that led to more than a couple of mouthfuls of slightly salty sea-water; occasional rain periods and the ceremonial regurgitation of food off the edge. Sound like fun to you?

Try wiping the smile from my face though!

My trip through the Whitsundays began with a run out to Cannonvale to pick up essential supplies like contact lens solution, sunscreen, and a couple of boxes of goon. Had I half a brain I probably would have picked up some sea-sickness tablets, what with all that wind about and my being so susceptible to motion sickness that I nearly threw up watching The Bourne Ultimatum at the Sony Centre in Berlin one time. But yay, goon!

We met the crew of the Emperors Wings down at the marina, climbed on board and were treated to a lettuce, cheese and ham wrap just to kick things off. After going through the safety with our captain Stu we were introduced to dive masters Pete and Steve and hostess Harriet before setting sail for the Whitsunday Islands.

Even at this early point we could tell we were in for some rough seas. Standing on the front of the boat was always interesting, if only to see which unlucky sod would get drenched by the next wave we crashed through! Most of us got through ok though before arriving at our first dive stop on Hayman Island. A number of punters took the chance to make their very first scuba dives while the rest of us took advantage of the smooth bay to do a spot of snorkelling. Either way, all of us came out comparing what we'd just seen - corals that ranged from miniature "trees" to giant boulders; clownfish that scooted in and around sea anemones; and being completely surrounded by schools of fish, all quite happy to pop in and say g'day to the mysterious wet-suited things floating around their habitats.

Of course the hot tub on the boat made things even better again!

Day 2 saw us pop over to Whitehaven beach on Whitsunday Island. This beach is regularly voted one of the best in the world, with its 98% silica sand. Most of the group went out and explored a bit while some of us took the chance to enjoy a nice sun-bake...

A few funny photos later and it was back on board for the journey out to our next dive stop. Most people went snorkelling this time, with the hot tub again proving a hit once we'd finished. That night we parked up at Hook Island in preparation for our big day sailing.

And what a day that was too! It took us a few hours through choppy seas to get to the outer reef, where you could see the water breaking over the outer edge of the reef. The diving here was spectacular; the snorkelling much harder work - especially if you float like a brick! A few mouthfuls of water convinced me that the hot tub would be more appropriate...

After a couple of hours it was time to head back to shore for one last night on board. By now most of us had figured out the best way to avoid sea-sickness was to lie down somewhere. This works best though if you can fall asleep for most of it instead of nodding off for 20 minutes. After sitting up the back of the boat for a couple of hours I felt brave enough to grab a party pie, only to find that it didn't want to be digested and had in fact encouraged the banana cake I'd had earlier to join it in a mad dash for freedom!!!

Half an hour later we pulled up into a sheltered bay for dinner, drinks, Mega-Uno (don't ask) and pictionairy - a great way to end a great few days.

Still can't wipe the smile from my face!

Up To Airlie...

WORD of warning for those driving through Queensland. Before you go any further into this blog, I want you to go to Google Maps. Now find directions from Brisbane to Airlie Beach. (Alternatively, if you're feeling a bit slack then click here). Now have a look at the direction the road goes either side of Rockhampton (about the middle of the map). This is pretty much north-west, which by coincidence is the exact direction the sun sets in, making driving at the exact time I was somewhat of a dangerous task...

But I digress. It's a little over 1100km from Brisbane to Airlie Beach and takes you past some of Queensland's major attractions, including the Sunshine Coast, Noosa, Hervey Bay and Fraser Island. The Bruce Highway also takes you past some historic old towns that are well worth a look, including Childers, my first sight-seeing stop.

Childers itself is an attractive, old-style country town located on the Bruce Highway south-west of Bundaberg. Walking down the highway you get a glimpse of what Australian towns must have been like over 50 years ago (at least until you see the multi-national takeaway store); my destination was one such building.

Back in 2000 a deranged man set fire to the old Palace Backpackers Hostel, killing 15 people. Today it is rebuilt, with an art gallery and memorial open to the public. The memorial itself is extremely well done, with a large painting showing the victims in poses from photographs provided by the families, while on the back wall are small collages containing photos of all 15 victims. To see those photos, of people enjoying their Australian experience - including cuddling a koala at Lone Pine, something we encourage down in Brisbane - then realising these people would never make it home to share their experiences with friends and family was somewhat jolting. The lady at the desk was very informative about what exactly happened, and if you are travelling through Childers I highly recommend stopping in.

THE rest of the journey was a little less memorable. Driving through country Australia you realise a couple of things: 1) service station food is terrible; and 2) some people should not be allowed out on the road. Overtaking lanes are few and far between, so just north of Gympie I took the chance to fly past a truck that had been holding me up. Problem was a woman in a 4wd decided to jump into the right-hand lane for no reason and hold me up, which meant the truck zoomed back past me on my left before it went back to one lane each way. Seriously.

At Rockhampton I'd planned on stopping at the Tropic of Capricorn, but as the sun was shining directly in my face pretty much the last 50kms into town, I missed it completely. Oops.

After Rockhampton I kept driving north towards a very small town called Marlborough for possibly the worst chicken and chips at the local service station, before pulling into a rest area 66km up the road for some much-needed sleep.

To be continued...

Life Is A Highway...

... AND for the next three weeks I'll be riding it all night long!

This trip is a little different to just about every other one I've done in the last seven years though. Those trips have been around Europe, Asia, South Africa and the USA; this time around though it's my home state of Queensland.

In many ways it's a bit of a homecoming for me. My first road trip was at the grand old age of one month old, as we headed south from Townsville to Mum's family in Brisbane. Since leaving Townsville at age 2 I've been back a total of once, with most family trips being down south to visit Dad's family in Victoria.

What a trip it is too! Two days of leisurely tootling up the Bruce Highway to Airlie Beach before four days on a cruise around the Whitsundays before four nights relaxing just off the coast of Townsville on Magnetic Island. After that it's up to Cairns and Cooktown for a couple of nights each, before taking a week to get back to Brisbane - quite possibly looking at going through Atherton, Charters Towers and Emerald to change things up.

Three weeks off, the iPod at the ready, Great Barrier Reef and some beautiful tropical winter weather: what more can you ask for?

Time to hit the highway...