Considering that our Tasmania trip is quite possibly the worst-planned of any taken by our family, we have fared quite well over the past three days. We have no proper map, no gps, only the barest sketch of an itinerary, and yet we have managed to see the capital city of Hobart, the famous convict-era ruins at Port Arthur, spend time in the countryside around Launceston, and today, we completed a four mile hike at Cradle Mountain. For those familiar with my navigational skills, this is a minor miracle, only possible because of good signs and the occasional input from google maps when my phone has a signal.
Originally we thought it would just be four of us on this trip, and I planned accordingly. When we discovered a few weeks ago that Cameron was in fact too young for the youth camp Katie is attending, we had to start from scratch, not a good thing when it is Christmas week in Tasmania. There was no more room on the overnight ferry from Melbourne so we had to purchase plane tickets. None of our accommodations permitted an extra child, and I don't know where we would have ended up without the help of a sympathetic tourist agent who called around for two hours before finding this farm cottage in Paradise, about an hour's drive from Cradle Mountain. Together with an offer to stay overnight at a friend's country house, we cobbled together a plan.
We failed to hire a rental car, however, and for that we have been suffering somewhat with three children crammed in the back of what is for us a tiny car. They have had numerous opportunities to practice restraint and self-control, most of which they have declined, and for their parents it has been a somewhat unwelcome exercise in developing patience. Next time we plan to tour the countryside we will hire a minivan if at all possible.
Backseat bickering and Christmas holiday fatigue aside, we have thoroughly enjoyed our discovery of Tasmania. Who would have thought that here we would be hot and parched after being cold and wet just a few short weeks ago at Ayers Rock? Not that we are complaining of course. We had just pictured Tasmania to be greener, cooler, and more moist.
One funny thing happened today when we arrived at the Cradle Mountain parking lot. As we pulled in I was admiring the hiking gear of a family just exiting their vehicle. With their proper hiking boots, backpacks, clothing and hats I assumed they must be heading out on an overnight trek. Then I realized I recognized the baby being inserted into one of the packs. They were a family we have met through the girls' school, and so we chatted for a few minutes, happy to run into friends even while feeling a bit shabby in our ordinary runners and jeans.
We ended up doing the same hike they were planning to complete, although I am sure at a much slower pace. I was happy for James to be the leader, a role he proudly assumed, as it gave me plenty of time to take pictures and catch my breath on the hills. I also had time to contemplate that after landing in Mebourne just eighteen months ago, knowing not a single soul, here we are in Tasmania staying with friends one night and then the next day running into another family who has reached out to us and welcomed us to this beautiful and generous country.
For our next trip I have committed to better planning. For now, I am grateful for all we have been privileged to enjoy. Pictures to follow in a subsequent post.
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