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Brisbane to Launceston
Oct. 19th, 2004 08:10 pmAfter a rough start this morning the day has gone remarkably well! Slept badly (as expected) and woke tired, grumpy and not feeling well. A quick breakfast and an all-too-brief farewell to Alex and I was on my way. Hassles at check-in with transferring flights led to a mad dash for the boarding plane and I coughed and spluttered my way to my seat, ready to depart my cool, rainy city but longing just to crawl back into bed.
My spirits lifted with the emergence of the sun and by landing in Melbourne my spirits were good. Relaxing in familiar surrounds, I indulged in a Hudson's coffee and browsed the bookshop, settling on Tim Winton's "Cloudstreet". A slightly delayed departure allowed a start ont he book but soon it was flying time again - out onto the tarmac, soaking up a beautiful spring day.
Up again, this time into perfect blue skies with a smattering of light cloud. Melbourne city winked in and out of my oval view and then Port Phillip Bay...
Azure, turquise and indigo, the water shimmered and sparkled below, incised by streaming-white boat trails. And the green, flat shoreline slowly stretching out into rocky headlands and wild islands beyond. Bass Straight sparkled in saphire perfection, not a foamy chop to be seen, and no sooner were we up then we began to descend toward the cloud-guarded Tasmanian coast. Loosely woven clouds fringing inland, following the mountian slopes to the river. Down over the green, sheep-speckled pastures, reminiscent of the other side of the world. Landing, then out into a breezy 20-odd degree sunshine and a beagle-sniffed greeting: here we are.
A lift offered byt he lovely old couple met on the plane gratefully accepted, motel found and checked in: what a room! Double bed, couch and bar - it's huge! Then the bathroom - double-rosed shower and a corner spa inviting, such a waste for a single traveller (I should have smuggled the boy along)! Lunch espidition lead to a meat pie and a $2:50 warratah proudly vased in a drink bottle on the dresser. Bags unpacked and phone calls made: dinner with my cousin, Jo, tomorrow and Aunt Anne expects me on Saturday. Decision made to drive down by myself to see the sights. Only question: leave Friday afternoon and take the overnight scenic option or head straight down on Saturday? Either way it should be pleasant, but a broken journey appeals - I'll talk to Jo...
So very glad I did this, I can feel the old blood stirring. All that remains now is to get well.
My spirits lifted with the emergence of the sun and by landing in Melbourne my spirits were good. Relaxing in familiar surrounds, I indulged in a Hudson's coffee and browsed the bookshop, settling on Tim Winton's "Cloudstreet". A slightly delayed departure allowed a start ont he book but soon it was flying time again - out onto the tarmac, soaking up a beautiful spring day.
Up again, this time into perfect blue skies with a smattering of light cloud. Melbourne city winked in and out of my oval view and then Port Phillip Bay...
Azure, turquise and indigo, the water shimmered and sparkled below, incised by streaming-white boat trails. And the green, flat shoreline slowly stretching out into rocky headlands and wild islands beyond. Bass Straight sparkled in saphire perfection, not a foamy chop to be seen, and no sooner were we up then we began to descend toward the cloud-guarded Tasmanian coast. Loosely woven clouds fringing inland, following the mountian slopes to the river. Down over the green, sheep-speckled pastures, reminiscent of the other side of the world. Landing, then out into a breezy 20-odd degree sunshine and a beagle-sniffed greeting: here we are.
A lift offered byt he lovely old couple met on the plane gratefully accepted, motel found and checked in: what a room! Double bed, couch and bar - it's huge! Then the bathroom - double-rosed shower and a corner spa inviting, such a waste for a single traveller (I should have smuggled the boy along)! Lunch espidition lead to a meat pie and a $2:50 warratah proudly vased in a drink bottle on the dresser. Bags unpacked and phone calls made: dinner with my cousin, Jo, tomorrow and Aunt Anne expects me on Saturday. Decision made to drive down by myself to see the sights. Only question: leave Friday afternoon and take the overnight scenic option or head straight down on Saturday? Either way it should be pleasant, but a broken journey appeals - I'll talk to Jo...
So very glad I did this, I can feel the old blood stirring. All that remains now is to get well.
