![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shapeofthingsSaturday October 23rd - to be back-dated.
Bright and early Sean and I packed ourselves out of our motels and shot off to rent a car and get the hell out of Launceston. WIth a pretty shoddy map and a shiny Hyundai Elantra we set off to see where the road would take us. Skipping the highway we headed out on country roads with a vague idea of direction. A stop at the Nile River to admire to crystal clear water and bemoan the lack of fish led to an encounter with a cheery local who presented us with a smashing map and the best scenic route to the east coast.
We skirted around Ben Loman National Park and admired it's alpine walls. In the winter the snow lies thick up there. The morning was brightened by an encounter with a mother wombat and her little joey trundling along in the sun, remedy to the bleakness of much road-kill. Past the farms and placid sheep we entered a plantation forrestry zone and were stunned to see clearing right to the top of the ridgelines - a decent rainstorm and a goodly amount of the hillside will come tumbling down. Still the beautiful weather and quaint scenery kept our spirits high and we were anticipating the warm, salty ocean not far away.
Clearing the final hills before the eastern coast we emerged from sunshine into low cloud and grey, frigid ocean. Such a surprise! Almost as surprising as the sight of sheep grazing right to the water's edge. Still the sea tasted good and we pulled over at Bichonet for fish and chips by the water. While Sean fed the seagulls I explored the rocky headland and revelled in the salty tang. I grew up by the ocean and often forget now how much i enjoy being by (and in) the sea.
Well fed and rambled we set off again for Freycinet National Park, arriving just in time for the rain to start. Undeterred, we still walked to the top of the lookout, but found it too wet to continue down to wineglass bay. When the rain lifted breifly the shallow waters shimmered in a turquoise more reminiscent of tropical climes. Climbing about huge granite boulders, crystalline slicked with rain, those stones the ancient watchers over the peninsular. I was loathe to leave but very wet and getting cold.
Driving again, around the salt marshes then heading west and inland, into the sun once more, surroundings slowly growing familiar as Hobart neared. Into the city, navigating by memory and looping one-way streets. Find a back-packers that isn't a pub, stop, ask, oh there. Leaving Sean to his own devices and back across the Derwent and out to Bellerive, down by the water with the city view and the houses replete with roses. There it is, Aunt Anne's, warm welcomes, a shower and to bed.
Bright and early Sean and I packed ourselves out of our motels and shot off to rent a car and get the hell out of Launceston. WIth a pretty shoddy map and a shiny Hyundai Elantra we set off to see where the road would take us. Skipping the highway we headed out on country roads with a vague idea of direction. A stop at the Nile River to admire to crystal clear water and bemoan the lack of fish led to an encounter with a cheery local who presented us with a smashing map and the best scenic route to the east coast.
We skirted around Ben Loman National Park and admired it's alpine walls. In the winter the snow lies thick up there. The morning was brightened by an encounter with a mother wombat and her little joey trundling along in the sun, remedy to the bleakness of much road-kill. Past the farms and placid sheep we entered a plantation forrestry zone and were stunned to see clearing right to the top of the ridgelines - a decent rainstorm and a goodly amount of the hillside will come tumbling down. Still the beautiful weather and quaint scenery kept our spirits high and we were anticipating the warm, salty ocean not far away.
Clearing the final hills before the eastern coast we emerged from sunshine into low cloud and grey, frigid ocean. Such a surprise! Almost as surprising as the sight of sheep grazing right to the water's edge. Still the sea tasted good and we pulled over at Bichonet for fish and chips by the water. While Sean fed the seagulls I explored the rocky headland and revelled in the salty tang. I grew up by the ocean and often forget now how much i enjoy being by (and in) the sea.
Well fed and rambled we set off again for Freycinet National Park, arriving just in time for the rain to start. Undeterred, we still walked to the top of the lookout, but found it too wet to continue down to wineglass bay. When the rain lifted breifly the shallow waters shimmered in a turquoise more reminiscent of tropical climes. Climbing about huge granite boulders, crystalline slicked with rain, those stones the ancient watchers over the peninsular. I was loathe to leave but very wet and getting cold.
Driving again, around the salt marshes then heading west and inland, into the sun once more, surroundings slowly growing familiar as Hobart neared. Into the city, navigating by memory and looping one-way streets. Find a back-packers that isn't a pub, stop, ask, oh there. Leaving Sean to his own devices and back across the Derwent and out to Bellerive, down by the water with the city view and the houses replete with roses. There it is, Aunt Anne's, warm welcomes, a shower and to bed.