Strahan and Queenstown with Dr Abt

We left North-West Tasmania bound for Strahan and the Western Wilderness. The drive took us through Tullah, Roseberry and Zeehan too quickly to do them justice but frankly there were no obvious attractions to lure us off our path. While the towns are still active mining centres they are no longer booming but continue to trade off their glory days in the late 19th century when lead and silver were first discovered there.

We arrived at the Esplanade in Strahan Village and, after much deliberation and helpful advice from the extremely well-run tourism centre, decided upon the West Coast Wilderness Railway - tantalisingly billed as one of the world's great railway journeys.

Well, I don't know about that. A little over-stated in my opinion but I must declare that trains are not my favourite mode of transport. It was nonetheless a fascinating trip through ancient rainforest gorges up and down some of the steepest inclines of any railway in Australia traversing 40 bridges in 35 kilometres.

Once the supply route for the inland copper mines between Queenstown and the port of Strahan, the rail trip today seeks to bring to life the experience of the original builders from the Mt Lyell Mining and Railway Company. This was indeed an amazing engineering feat, handbuilt piece by piece using the unique cog-rail system invented by the Swiss clock-maker, Dr Roman Abt.

What was a more startling revelation was that the two rivers over which the train passes - the King River and its major tributory the Queen River - are arguably Australia's most polluted rivers. From the 1880s, waste water from the Mt Lyell copper mine was disposed into the Queen River and between 1922 and 1995 the tailings (ore-washing residue) was dumped in into it. The fumes from the ore smelter produced acid rain which also leached minerals from the bare Queenstown hills. Both rivers are grey and sick to this day.

Poor old Queenstown too is in a sorry state, and so were we when we arrived, for the second time, late at night.  You see, the rail ticket included a return bus trip to Strahan where our car was parked but ... our accommodation was in Queenstown... so we had to drive straight back. Infuriating!

Queenstown struck us as a despondent place the first time around and was pitch black on our return. The train trundled past delipidated and graffiti covered houses backing the track, and the centre of town was like an out-post in a Wild West movie. But despite these rash first impressions, our accommodation was divine.

We drove up the winding streets to the Federation mansion, Penghana, built in 1898 as the residence for the general manager of the Mt Lyall Mining Company. We occupied two of its six grand bedrooms decorated with period antiques and were served a sumptuous breakfast the next morning in a formal dining room. Quite a contrast to our park cabin the night before. There's just no telling from last minute on-line bookings is there?

View over Queenstown from the then Mt Lyell Mining Company's General Manager's bedroom window.

Back-tracking once again, we made our way next morning on the pilgrim's route to Cradle Mountain - the unmissable destination in Tasmania likened in the tourist blurb to the "ruined remains of a medieval cathedral perched imperiously above the lakes that adorn its base".  I've longed to go there for more than a decade, so head off with big expectations.

G'Day, G'Day

We made our traditional Australia Day trip to the edge of Lake Burley Griffin for the official flag raising and citizenship ceremony.  Australia's Federation Guard, the premier ceremonial unit of the Australian Defence Force, conducted a Royal Guard and used blank ammunition to fire a 21 gun salute prior to an F/A-18 fighter jet fly past to mark the raising of the flag on the giant flagpole at Regatta Point. The Band of the Royal Military College of Australia also performed.

On a windless day and from a distant vantage point on the opposite side of the lake, it was hard to appreciate the full effect of the occasion, but there was certainly no disappointment when the jets roared overhead and cannons fired. 
 

G'Day, G'Day

       by Slim Dusty

Isn't great to be an Aussie

Takin' a walk along the street

Lookin' in shops or buyin' a paper

Stoppin' and havin' a yarn with people that you meet

Down at the pub or at a party

Whenever you're stuck for what to say

If you wanna be dinky-di, why don't you give it a try

Look 'em right in the eye and say goo'day

G'day g'day, how ya goin', what d'ya know, well strike a light

G'day g'day, and how ya go-o-o-in'

Just say g'day g'day g'day and you'll be right

By association

Happy birthday, too, to Napoleon L Bonaparte, Édouard Manet, Marie-Henri Beyle (pen name Stendhal); Caroline Louise Marguerite Grimaldi. Just call me Marianne in future - I like a bit of French influence ;-)

That time of year again

A Birthday 

   by Christina Rossetti

My heart is like a singing bird

Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;

My heart is like an apple-tree

Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;

My heart is like a rainbow shell

That paddles in a halcyon sea;

My heart is gladder than all these

Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a dais of silk and down;

Hang it with vair and purple dyes;

Carve it in doves and pomegranates,

And peacocks with a hundred eyes;

Work it in gold and silver grapes,

In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;

Because the birthday of my life

Is come, my love, is come to me.

Illustration: Source Creative UK

North West Tasmania: For the Birds

Land ahoy!  We arrived in Devonport on the good ship Spirit of Tasmania I and, thanks to an unlikely recommendation from my dentist, knew to look out for Hawley's Gingerbread House circa 1885 in the first street off the exit ramp.  It was a visual treat after the hours of cabin fever, a queasy tum and nary but apples to eat before confiscating them for quarantine purposes.  Boy, was that first cup of coffee gooood and we loved the intricate table settings with matching china salt and pepper shakers.  The children frolicked in the garden and oggled the edible sweets inside.

Duly fed and watered, energy replenished, we took off in an easterly direction to the town of Port Sorell behind the sand dunes of Bass Strait and nearby Shearwater, Hawley Beach and Freers Beaches. We happened across some bush walking tracks along the Port Sorell Conservation Area – 70ha of foreshore and woodland - when lo and behold, not far from an historic farming property ... there were chickens on the beach scratching around in the dunes.  A proud old rooster gave us a cheery morning welcome to Tasmania. Cock-a-doodle-do. It was like wandering onto the pages of Rosie's Walk.

Having stretched our legs, we sped off and drove through La Trobe - home of the House of Anvers Chocolate Factory, Railton -  town of topiary and Sheffield - town of murals.  We dropped into the wacky shop, Reliquaire, where you can explore over 10 rooms containing a antique furniture, limited edition dolls, decorative masks, jewellery and toys, science kits and spooky installations.  Our cruising then led us back North West to the town of Ulverstone where we stopped at the Riverside Anzac Park beside the Leven River with its 'Spaceage' childrens playground including rockets and space ship climbing frames.  From there it was a treat to drive along the pretty Old Bass Highway to Penguin. You can’t miss the Big Penguin which has made the esplanade its home. The 3.15-metre (10-foot) cement and fibreglass bird was erected in 1975 to commemorate the centenary of the town.  If you know Club Penguin, you'll love the town. Does Disney know about this place?

Photo from Flickr

We found our humble lodgings at Cooee just outside Burnie and had to prod and poke the children to stay awake (yeah, right) until nine o'clock when we scurried out onto beach across the Bass Highway where we, and a few other wanna be David Attenboroughs, caught a glimpse of some real live fairy penguins coming ashore after dark to their burrows among the rocks right below the road!   Ro Ro was official guide with his brand new, red, head torch and Charly was the nature photographer with her brand new, silver camera.  Here is a collaborative picture of a penguin's footprint.

What a day! We bundled our chicks into their triple decker beds and slept soundly and deeply, dreaming of more advertures tomorrow.

Welcome Home!

Charly arrived home today after her first four-day Girl Guide camp in Jindabyne.  She has grown a foot taller and returned with lots of badges, putrid laundry, sun-parched skin, sore muscles and plenty of eager tales to tell about horse-riding, canoeing and cameraderie in the great outdoors.

She should sleep well tonight.  A huge thanks to all the wonderful leaders who take time out to organise and run these camps and teach our girls valuable life skills.

Stick 'em up: Glenrowan

Day two of our road trip and we headed off on the Hume Highway to "Kelly country".

Glenrowan was a quiet little hamlet used as a stop-over and coach staging point between Benalla and Wangaratta until the events of June, 1880, blazed it's name and that of Ned Kelly across world headlines.

The Glenrowan siege was Australia's first widely reported and photographed criminal drama. Telegraphy and outdoor photography were new, and news from Glenrowan via Benalla and Wangaratta telegraph operators, appeared in special newspaper editions almost as it happened.

Dad took Charly and Ro Ro to re-live the excitement of the siege at the Computerised Animated Theatre while Wanna and I called on the helpful man at the Australia Post agent in the newsagency to track down my friend, Ruth's, phone number the old fashioned way - via the Wangaratta White Pages!  We eventually hooked up for lunch with her lovely family at the Milawa Cheese Factory but not before we had our photos taken in front of the Ned Kelly Statue and played in the playground opposite the quaint railway station.

Ned was an Irish-Australian bushranger, and, to some, a folk hero for his defiance of the colonial authorities.  Following an incident at his home in 1878, police parties searched for him in the bush. After he killed three policemen, the colony proclaimed Kelly and his gang wanted outlaws. A final violent confrontation with police took place at Glenrowan in 1880. Kelly, dressed in home-made plate metal armour and helmet, was captured and sent to jail. He was hanged for murder at Old Melbourne Gaol.  All a bit bleak for me, so I was very glad to skedaddle outta there and head straight on to the Port of Melbourne to catch the Spirit of Tasmania I. 

Alas, I have no photos as the weather was windy, the waves were high and the sky bleak and this land lubber had to take sanctuary in the theatrette to watch 'Mao's Last Dancer' and stagger, literally, to the cabin.   No chance I was going to see " Melbourne's city skyline ablaze as the setting sun shone its final rays of the day across Port Melbourne" like the brochure says.

Spirit of Tasmania I and II were built in 1998 by Kvaerner Masa-Yards in Finland. They have a displacement weight of almost 30,000 tonnes and a length of 194.3 metres.  Spirit of Tasmania I and II cross Bass Strait at a cruising speed of 27 knots which is the equivalent of 50 kilometres per hour. The 429 kilometre voyage across Bass Strait is roughly twice the distance by road between Devonport and Strahan, on Tasmania’s west coast. 

Stretched end-to-end, the vehicle lanes on each ship would be almost two kilometres long!  Our trusty Honda took up some of that space.  Tassie here we come!