What does an unemployed teacher do? Actually I probably shouldn’t say unemployed, it sounds as if no one wants me, that’s not true. I chose to be here.
On the positive side I’m very relaxed, sleep exceptionally well and have time to spend with my other half. I am able to dabble in all manner of creative pursuits. More about that in my next post. Most importantly I have had the gift of time. Please don’t hate me for saying this I’ve been able to clean my house properly, none of this a lick around the edges stuff.
The teacher in me is twitching, as much as I don’t for a single moment miss the stress of being in the classroom, I do miss the mischievous antics that characterise teachers days. Oh well, one door closes and another one opens.
The husband and I have decided we need to improve our photographic skills. A little healthy competition always helps. Yes, a competition to see who can take the best pictures. Needless to say the husband usually wins. I’m as blind as a bat without my glasses, if I haven’t lost one of my many pairs, they’re filthy and my vision is usually blurred by the muck of ages.
Getting back to the unemployed teacher bit. What does one do? Run away, or more correctly fly away to Tasmania and go on a road trip. And of course, take photos.
A little tip if you should feel so inclined to visit this part of the world. In Tasmania you pay a park entry fee every time you enter a National Park. And believe me there are a lot, nineteen in fact! It’s something we need to do in New Zealand. Knowing what I know now, we should have purchased a two month pass at $60.00 at our first park. At $24.00 per vehicle each time it starts to add up. As the husband and I entered our third park I whipped out our previous receipts, smiled sweetly and asked very politely if we could convert to a two month pass. Fortunately we were able to do this and save money.
These boots are made for walking that’s just what you do, when you don’t want to run over a wallaby or a wombat. Possums don’t count if you come from New Zealand. The informative lady at the car rental company had warned us that the chance of hitting wild life here was fairly high if you drove between dusk and dawn.
Every evening we parked our trusty Calais and walked and walked. Uphill, down dale, meandered around sleepy harbours, walked hand in hand along river banks. Isn’t that cute. Got lost, finding restaurants recommended on Trip Advisor, occasionally! Or they were closed. Thank goodness for our trusty tourist sandals, not a blister in sight.
Mona, was not on our list of ‘to dos’ in Hobart. After having it recommended twice by fellow guests within twenty minutes, we thought why not. The Museum of Old and New Art is privately owned by David Walsh, a very colourful man. The entrance sets the scene. Down a path to a tennis court, there for show, not a racket in sight. To the left, God’s car park and one for God’s Mistress. A trampoline for adults to play on, a dramatic rusty sculpture of a concrete mixer. The museum is subterranean, set into the cliff face on the banks of the Derwent River. Everyone receives an audio device to inform, nothing is labelled. Hold on tight you’re in for a roller-coaster ride. It’s naughty, nice and confronting. We loved it.
Lookout shot of The Neck, Bruny Island. Breath-taking views of the South Bruny National Park, coupled with a vast empty beach at our feet, dotted with penguin burrows.
Cape Bruny Lighthouse in the distance, built using convict labour from local rock in 1836.
Way down south, Cape Bruny Lighthouse, getting up close and personal.
Up north, Mersey Bluff Lighthouse, Devonport which lies on the banks of the Mersey River. The Spirit of Tasmania, a vehicular ferry makes daily trips from here to Melbourne.
Out west, Cape Sorell Lighthouse, just outside Macquaire Harbour, in the roaring 40’s.
Entrance Island Lighthouse, situated at Hellsgate the narrow entrance to Macquarie Harbour.
Port Arthur penal station established 1830. The large building in the centre is the penitentiary, built in 1843 as a flour mill and granary. In 1857 it was converted into a penitentiary, housing 480 convicts.
The Port Arthur church built by convicts in 1837. Seating up to a thousand, religion was used here as a form of control. With men from many different denominations. it was decided not to consecrate the church. Call me strange; this was a very peaceful place to be. It wrapped its arms around you.
As we wandered around the Port Arthur site I couldn’t help but wonder where we would have hidden had we been here on that fateful day, April 28th, 1996. Martin Bryant killed 35 people and injured 23 here on that day. The frightening thing is there are very few places to hide.
Sarah Island, Convict Penal settlement 1822-1833. A nasty little island at the Southern end of Macquarie harbour. The remains of the penitentiary, where ninety men slept. In the weekends when men returned from work camps they crammed in even more. I must read ‘For the Term of His Natural Life’ by Marcus Clarke, all about this hell whole.
A flying visit to Cradle Mountain on our way to Devonport. A picture postcard day.
Lake St Clair, sunny days bring out the snakes. I ended a blithering mess just after this shot when I nearly stood on one.
Loved this bridge
Richmond Bridge, the oldest bridge in Australia and yes it was built using convict labour, opening in April 1825. Didn’t they do well?
One for the girls!
When we travel I always keep a detailed diary, something to read when we are in our rocking chairs. It was a pleasant change travelling in an English speaking country. Funnily enough I found that I didn’t have as much to write about. There is nothing like the new, the different, it’s very confronting and it gives me oodles to rabbit on about.