Every Day is Sunday

Tasmania is a place of wild beauty. The island is actually quite small – about the size of West Virginia – but packed into that small space are mountain peaks, dense rainforest, incredible coastline, alpine meadows, great lakes, and eucalyptus forests.

Much like India, Tasmania explodes with color.  But that’s where the simliarities end.  Indian colors come from millions of people in beautiful saris and turbans tightly packed on the street.  Tasmanian colors come from a landscape completely devoid of people.

Driving across the island we couldn’t get over how green everything is.  It’s so green it looks fake. At any moment we expected little leprechauns to jump out of the trees.

Our first Tassie adventure was a 7-hour hike from our lodge to the summit of Cradle Mountain.  This impressive mountain rises 5,000 feet, towering like a giant stone cradle over azure Dove Lake.   

The most challenging part of our hike was the weather.  Technically it was springtime, but we experienced all four seasons: tropical heat in the valleys, cool rain in the forest, and snow at the top of the mountain. 

At one point we thought the trail had ended because there was no path. All we saw was snow and ice along the steep ridge of the mountain. We briefly considered heading back until we saw footprints in the snow. 

We were glad we stuck with it because the view at the top — and feeling of satisfaction from conquering the snowy ridge in inappropriate shoes — was worth it. 

We rented a cabin at the Cradle Mountain Lodge, which apparently doubles as a wildlife park.  We had our first encounter with a wombat – which is not a bat at all but a plump, groggy marsupial about the size of a cocker spaniel – just outside of our door.  Wombats are everywhere but are nocturnal and mostly invisible.  We didn’t see too many wombats, but we saw plenty of the little presents they left behind scattered all over the trail.  At times it was like we were playing hopscotch trying to avoid them.

We also stumbled on the elusive Tasmanian Devil in the wild.  We were very disappointed when he simply ran away instead of spinning around really fast and yelling Yablabaspfbnaerl! They are a lot smaller than we thought they would be, and they actually seemed kind of cute until they started shrieking.  When we heard that horrible noise we understood how they got their name. 

Unfortunately, it has become very rare to see a devil in the wild because of a spreading facial-tumor disease that is wiping out the population.  At one time, Tasmanian devils were everywhere, but in-breeding has made them susceptible to this strange disease and their numbers are dwindling toward extinction.

After a few days enjoying the scenery and fauna near Cradle Mountain, we drove east across the island toward Freycinet National Park.  The coastline in Freycinet is unmatched. There’s no development, few tourists and incredible colors. We hiked all around the national park – from the turquoise waters of wineglass bay, to the blinding white-sand of Hazards beach, to the orange, red and green rocks that border the park.

Along our journey we ran into a few wallabies that regularly hop around the beaches. They are so damn cute we wanted to jump in their pouch and hop around with them.  But we didn’t fit.

On our way back we stopped by an oyster shack.  The oysters were $2 apiece for pre-shucked and a bargain $.50 apiece for unshucked.  Despite Erin’s protests, we bought a dozen unshucked oysters and stopped at the market to pick up a shucker.

Jeff:  I had never shucked an oyster before, but I figured it couldn’t be that hard to figure out.  That is, until I picked up one of those strange creatures and stared in wonder at their seemingly impenetrable shell.

Erin:  Jeff was standing at the sink sighing heavily while I did my best to pretend like it was normal for someone to take 5 minutes to open one oyster.  Another five minutes passed and I started giving him my best I told you so look but he wouldn’t turn around.

Jeff:  Things looked grim, but finally the trial and error method worked.  It turns out that all oysters attach themselves to their shell in the same spot, and all you have to do is squeeze your knife into that spot and dislodge the muscle.  It’s actually very easy once you get the hang of it. 

Erin:  I heard a few victory yells coming from the kitchen, and I came out to find a plate of 12 deliciously shucked oysters and one very sweaty but smiling man.

After Freycinet we made our way north to the Bay of Fires.  The bay was given its name by Captain Tobias Furneaux in 1733 who saw the fires of the Aboriginal people on the beaches, but it might as well have been named for the bright-orange hued rocks that line the coast. 

The orange color comes from a type of lichen that glows like a hot fire when the sun hits the rocks. The blue/orange contrast makes the Bay of Fires one of the world’s top 100 beaches. We could barely tear ourselves away.