Tamar Valley - A day of unexpected pleasures and treasures.

Despite the drunken antics of the dorms I slept like a log, waking to skype to say night night to those in England whilst having my breakie (Oz spelling). Creepy how quickly mind and body adjust so the abnormal becomes ordinary.

The Queen Victoria Museum and Art Gallery here has a fantastic collection of John Glover landscapes, including new acquisitions currently free, wonderful.

Plus here an intriguing and absorbing display of domestic ‘artwork’ from 1800/s, oddly fascinating. The colonial wives were obviously British, though a mixture of classes, it seems to have been fine for ex-convicts to reform and marry ‘up’ (presumably not enough women prepared to immigrate?). The needlepoint, quilting and embroidery tell their stories, often integrated with Oz aspects such as gum trees/feathers/even tribal additions.

Then back to my little car to drive alongside the river Tamar. The gps sent my along the ‘highway’, but as per usual the locals advised ignoring it, and this time I did. I found, as directed, the mainly deserted scenic route along the water edge.

First stop, a farmers market and ‘basket’ fair (i.e. bring along your basket of produce and exchange-great name!), in a little village hall miles from anywhere.

Two little girls persuaded me to part with a dollar for a bag of apples and another lady (born in Brighton, like many I’ve met, Tasmania’s population is heavily biased towards those originally from the UK) gave me some leatherwood honey, a local speciality.

Despite signposted as a Tamar Attraction, there was barely a soul on this road, as you can see from the pictures…but it’s lovely, little coves, beaches-I found Bonnie beach by chance, following the signs to facilities. Like most here, well kept and clean, and in this case 10 minutes down a gravel road ending up in the bay, perfect spot for lunch.

This road has art galleries and wineries on every corner. I stopped at a few, the welcome is so generous it’s hard to get away, and there is an abundance of creativity in this valley.

And its not my imagination, the greens are different here, apparently it’s the gum trees and the natural soils, there is a turquoise effect very different to the rich verdant nature of England (as confirmed by a local artist, anyway) and the hills really do go purple as the sun sets, thanks to the richness of the soil/rocks.

This evening I walked the Tamar wetlands, a stark contrast to the open spaces of the valley views. Here is dank, dark streams and overhanging branches, fallen trees and very odd plants, a sense of an alien environment-I was relieved to return and meander back (via the gorge, I love this place) alongside the harbour into familiar townscapes.

Launceston has definitely grown on me, the town is an architectural delight and the river has a life of its own.  There is much more to see than I’ve time to do here, but hopefully I’ll return?

Not looking forward to the long drive back to Hobart tomorrow, but it will be lovely to have the luxury of a hotel, although I’ve become a fan of hostels. Cheap, cheerful and very friendly (in my experience-I’ve heard some horror stories though!), I’m turning into a backpacker in my old age.