Change In Plans

Greetings from the B23 motorway, just south of Adelaide, in South Australia. We are in the home stretch (sort of) of a long and surprisingly complicated trip to Kangaroo Island.

After my mild whiny despair of yesterday afternoon, we had a nice early evening walk in search of the elusive duck-billed platypus. We then found an unused deck on the west side of the lodge, where India and I could enjoy sunset drinks, and Zola and Tallulah could run and be wild. It was particularly fun observing other guests encounter wombats and wallabies on the paths as they walked down to dinner. It was a little like watching Punk’d, but no Ashton Kutcher.

Unfortunately, I could not sleep at all after mindight. At Zola’s request, I had agreed to read “The Time Paradox,” the sixth and final book in Eoin Colfer’s Artemis Fowl series. So, at around 4:30 am I was finishing the complicated adventures of the Irish boy criminal, his female fairy companion, and hairy dwarf/miner ally. I’m slightly embarrassed by how much I liked the book. Zola thinks I am marginally cooler today, so I’ve got that going for me.

Before we left this morning, India and Zola went on a final nature walk. They did not see the platypus (missed by a few seconds), but they did find an albino wallaby, which Zola was very excited about.

We started by driving from Cradle Mountain Park back to Devonport. It was only about 80 kilometers, but the road was twisty and narrow, so it took about an hour and a half. We saw an echidna goofing around by the roadside, which is incredibly cool.

Devonport doesn’t appear to have much going on, so we hung around the airport for a long time instead. Tallulah was happy to get toasted sandwiches from the same shop where we ate when we arrived in Tasmania last week.

Strangely, there is no security (literally none) before boarding the turboprop flight from Devonport to Melbourne. As we disembarked, however, we went through the whole X-ray, no liquids, computers out routine before being allowed to enter Melbourne airport from the tarmac. Interesting approach. They confiscated Zola’s one centimeter toy pocket knife.

After changing planes in Melbourne, we had a very bumpy ride to Adelaide, landing at about 5 pm. Adelaide is in a semi-different time zone from Melbourne, so we set our watches back to 4:30 again.

Qantas lost India’s bag somewhere. This is the first time it has happened on any part of the trip, so we count ourselves lucky, That said, it meant another 90 minutes in the Adelaide airport, sorting that mess out. Theoretically the bag will catch up with us tonight.

It is about 150 kilometers from Adelaide to Cape Jervis, where the ferry leaves for Kangaroo Island. Everyone we asked -tourism information guy, taxi dispatcher, taxi driver - winced when we asked about taking a taxi, and said, “Ooh, that would cost a fortune. No one takes a taxi there.” Even the desk ladies at Avis and Budget, while explaining that we could not feasibly rent a car for the trip told us, “Ooh, a taxi would cost a fortune.”

Faced with the prospect of walking or waiting 12 hours at the airport for a bus, we pushed for some quantification of the “Ooh, that’s a fortune.” comment. Turns out to be about $US 120, or about $US 40 more than the bus.

So here we are, heading southwest into the sunset, packed comfortably into a taxi. Kangaroo Island appears to have a lot more to do than rural Tasmania did. We are looking forward to getting on the ferry and getting there.

WOMBAT!

Greetings from Tasmania! We are in the Cradle Mountain National Park, spending a few days hiking and looking at Tasmania’s definitely weird wildlife.

We drove across Tasmania on Sunday, leaving Freycinet on the east coast, cutting back through Launceston in the center, and right up into the west coast mountains. We have been looking at too many wall-size maps of Tasmania, which make that journey look epic in its length and complexity. In reality, Tasmania is pretty small, and the whole drive took about 4 scenic hours.

Similar to the age-discrimination challenges we faced in Freycinet, children are basically not allowed to do anything fun at the Cradle Mountin Lodge either. Canoeing is restricted to 14 years and older, there are no kids’ mountain bikes, and they laughed when we asked about horse riding. Litigators and insurance companies appear to dominate Australian tourism. This has left us with a few beautiful walks, a visit to the Tasmanian Devil rescue center, and the wackiest game drive of our lives.

I will write a post about the Devils and the game drive later, when I have a proper internet connection. We saw a lot of animals (wallabies, pademelons, quoll, wombats, etc.), but both event were so comic that I laugh thinking about it.

The hikes have been very scenic, but with a beauty more subtle than that of the east coast. This part of Tasmania gets three meters of rain a year, which is an enormous amount. Even though it is the height of summer, the days have been very cool and cloudy, with intermittent rain. It seems more like Vancouver or Scotland than Australia.

Yesterday we did a 10-kilometer walk from Dove Lake back to the Cradle Mountain park entrance. Most of the way we were on an elaborate wooden boardwalk, with chicken wire embedded in the boards for traction. The boardwalk saves wear and tear on the plant life, I guess, and it is a pretty remarkable feat of engineering and carpentry. The hike runs past glacial lakes, through heathered fields, over riverine gorges, and into medieval-looking forest. All of this is in the brooding, mist-shrouded shadow of Cradle Mountain.
Dramatic and beautiful.

This morning we walked 9 kilometers around Dove Lake, which is at the base of the mountain. Apparently, in the 1820s, the English surveyor named the lake for his boss, Mr. Dove. The lake looked cold and dark against the gray skies and brown/green vegetation.

Zola has been a total trooper on these hikes, trundling along in his Crocs, and enjoying himself greatly. For the most part, Tallulah has been riding on my shoulders, but she was excited to wear a hood and run along the boardwalk in the rain yesterday.

India, of course, is in her element. She has been running 15 kilometers in the park in the early morning, then returning on these hikes later in the day. Between the walking/running and all of the animal tracking, this is heavenly for her.

I, on the other hand, am going a little crazy. Being this isolated, with limited intellectual stimulation or social activity, is … is… is… is probably building character and making me a better person. Either that or I will start drinking beer in the lodge pub after breakfast. Learning about ourselves is part of travel, I guess. We are all learning that I get grouchy in isolation.

Tomorrow we drive up to Devonport, and fly to Adelaide, connecting through Melbourne.
We stay over near Adelaide, and then take a ferry to Kangaroo Island on Thursday morning. On Kangaroo Island we will be staying in a very isolated place, hiking in the rain and looking at Australian animals. We will see how I do. When I go back to work, I am sure I will look back on these bucolic days and family hikes with enormous pleasure.

Happy Valentine’s Day from Tasmania! We are in the Freycinet National Park, on a wild peninsula off of Tasmania’s east coast. We are off the beaten track, I think.

We arrived here two days ago, after a longer-than-expected drive down from Devonport. The total distance was only about 350 kilometers, but the roads are narrow and twisty.   It took about 6 hours in our repurposed Australian 1994 Chevy Malibu station wagon.

We stopped in a town called Launceston, which is Australia’s third-oldest European settlement (after Sydney and Hobart, as we all know). Launceston has an attraction called “First Basin,” which features an old-fashioned chairlift going across a deep river gorge. It was the first time that Zola had ever been on a chairlift, so he thought this was very cool. We hiked around on the far side for a while, had an impossibly slow lunch, saw a few wallabies, and headed back to the parking lot.  A terrific lunch stop.

We also stopped to taste wine at a vineyard called Milton, about 30 kilometers from the park entrance. Tasmanian wine is good, and the setting of the tasting room was spectacular, looking out over the rolling hills and low mountains. There was an elderly Tasmanian couple in the tasting room with us, buying wine for their son’s 60th-birthday celebration (!!!). I tried to strike up a conversation with them, but they were quite deaf, and it was difficult.

We are staying at Freycinet Lodge (www.puretasmania.com.au), which is a privately owned lodge within the park. The location is unbelievably beautiful: perched on a hillside with a clear bay and a long stretch of white beach on one side, and rugged, rocky mountains on the other. It feels like, and is, the end of the road. We are staying in a comfortable little cabin, looking out over the mountains.

I got off to a bit of a bad start with the activities people at the lodge. Australia is surprisingly litigation and liability driven. Our kids were not allowed to do any of the water-based activities at the lodge, because there are no kids’-sized life jackets available, and the insurance company won’t let guests use their own.

The dialogue went something like:

     “So the harbor cruise is out?”

     “Afraid so.”

     “And we can’t go kayaking”

     “Sorry.”

     “And the hike which we booked where you pick us up in the boat at the end, we have to cancel?”

     “Afraid so.”

     “Well, at least we can still do the quad biking, right? No need for life jackets there.”

     “Well, unfortunately we don’t alow anyoe under 14 on the bikes either.”

     “Aaaaaggghhh.”

The guides were as gracious as they could be, and were a little embarrassed by the restrictions (there were many more than I am describing). They even offered to call their competitors and see whether their rules were less restrictive.

In the end, we found some activities which were allowed, and have had a great couple of days here.

Yesterday we did a long (five hours) guided hike over Mount Amos, down into the Tasman Sea-facing Wineglass Bay, over an isthmus, along the inland-bay headlands, and back to the lodge. It was very beautiful, and having the guide, a very nice New Zealander named Dan, gave Zola someone to talk to the whole way. I carried Tallulah in a backpack, which made he hike more of a workout than I have had in months.

After dinner last night, we spent a couple of hours on the beach, playing in the sand and splashing in the calm water. We saw a sting ray gliding around that had to have been a meter across. As the sun set, the interplay of the light, the clear water, and the ridged-sand yellow beach was almost unspeakably beautiful. It was like nothing I have seen before.

The main activity today (aside from me being a grouch, for reasons I don’t understand) was kayaking in the late afternoon.  We went with one of the lodge’s competitors, as suggested by the guides.  We were out on the water for about three hours: India and Tallulah (the littlest kayaker) in one boat, and Zola and me in another.  With two guides, we paddled in and out of the bays, and along the beaches.  We saw many more rays in the water, and  saw a  wallaby  on the beach when we stopped for sunset drinks.  Zola is a wonderful kid, but we determined that he is not yet ready to steer a kayak.

Tomorrow morning we leave Freycinet for the long drive over to Cradle Mountain, clear on the other side of Tasmania.  The drive-time estimates we have heard range from four to seven hours.  We will be in a similar lodge (with fewer age restrictions, I hope), in a much wilder and wetter part of the island.  I will try to add some pictures from the last two days when we have internet access.