Hobart, Day 8: Expect the Unexpected

When you travel, are there photos you wish you’d taken? I have a few from various trips, some that I still feel a little sorry about from years ago. Anyhow, there have been a couple here in Tasmania, one being a road safety sign that we haven’t seen before. We saw it particularly on winding roads in the east of the state, and it warns you to “expect the unexpected”. What a great philosophy for living one’s life too I thought. Of course, for the roads the idea is for us drivers to be cautious, but in life we can see it as about being open to and, more importantly I guess, be ready for new things.

Our Tasmanian holiday, which draws to a close with this post, had much that was expected of course – we expected nice times with family, beautiful  landscapes, good local food, and fascinating history – and we got them. But as with all travel there is always the unexpected. In our case, with this trip, they were pleasurable ones. There were no disasters – no strikes, accidents or health events to cloud our days.

The main unexpected good thing was the weather. It was lovely! As I’m sure I’ve said earlier in the blog, I was expecting – there’s that word – the worst, since we were travelling in changeable spring in changeable Tasmania. But we lucked out. We did get a little rain, and a little wind, and the odd cold day, but nowhere near as much as I was dreading expecting. Other unexpected pleasures included the Pilot Station at Low Head which had not been on our itinerary, Stanley which was on our itinerary but which exceeded our expectations, walks in the Tarkine which we had not planned, and all of Ian’s historical knowledge which, though not exactly unexpected given his profession, did add wonderfully to our enjoyment of our travels.

A day trip to Waddamana Power Station Museum

For our last day in Hobart/Tasmania, Ian and Helen suggested a drive into the Central Plateau to see Tasmania’s oldest hydro power station, Waddamana. We could also, they say, visit the golf museum in Bothwell, arguably the location of the oldest golf course in the Southern Hemisphere! We eschewed that museum, I’m afraid, but spent a pleasant time pottering around the Bothwell Cemetery. Bothwell, Helen told us, has been described as the Paris of the South. What’s it with France? First we had Maria Island described as Australia’s Riviera, and now Bothwell as our Paris. Cultural cringe anyone?

Anyhow, en route to Waddamana, and before Bothwell, we passed through the Elderslie-Pelham area which is where, in 1804, we have the first documented contact between indigenous Australians and settlers in Tasmania. Surveyors were out doing what surveyors do – marking boundaries or points in the land with their markers – while the indigenous people, intuiting, probably, the implication of these markers, removed them. There was no bloodshed on this occasion, but the indigenous people apparently encouraged the surveyors away!

Waddamana Power Station was completed in 1916, though its gorgeous art deco building dates from 1922. Len was in his element, checking out the machinery, contemplating what it did and, more importantly, how it did it. For the rest of us the interest resided more in the aesthetics of the building and equipment, and the social history, though not a lot of the latter is explicitly described in the interpretation.

For lunch we picnicked on goodies brought from home or bought from the farmers’ market on our way out. It was calm and mildly warm. Perfect for a picnic … 

Then it was back in the car for our ride home, across the beautiful open woodlands of the central plateau/highlands, through Osterley and into Ouse. I’m kicking myself that I didn’t take a photo through there – perhaps of three lone fireplaces on a rise just out of Osterley – but post-prandial stupor had set in. We stopped at Ouse, where the boys were in town with their showy sports cars (including a Lamborghini), but the ice-cream eaters in our party were only interested in the IGA! Nonetheless, we did sneak a sociologically fascinated glance at the macho display. Each to their own … and at least when they roared off it was within the speed limit.

Our route from here took us through New Norfolk, where Ian drove us past the Willow Court (or, the New Norfolk Insane Asylum, later the Royal Derwent Hospital). It was built for mentally ill and mentally handicapped people in 1827. We didn’t stop there, but it’s a huge complex, which, Helen and Ian told us, has some terrible stories – as those places tend to have. Horrifying, how people were treated (and still are in many places).

Our indefatigable tour guide had one more stop for us to, he said, “complete” the trip – and that was to a spot in Hobart from which we could see the Zinc Works. Established in 1918, this was the reason for which the Waddamana Power Station was built. Not the most beautiful scene of our trip, but travel isn’t only about beauty you know!

Last day

Most of our last day was spent packing and traveling, but we did manage a quick walk in the morning down to the North Hobart shops – where we saw more street art outside the vet’s. Gorgeous, as you’ll see in the photos.

And finally, you who’ve followed this journey will be pleased to know, just one last story. It relates to our taxi drive to Hobart airport. We got into the taxi and off set our driver, turning on the radio as drivers often do, but, what’s this? Instead of a shock jock we got the ABC. We all settled in to listen, and pretty soon we heard Barnaby Joyce tell us that the first wish of farmers in drought time was for rain! Haha, we passengers chuckled, we could never have worked that out for ourselves. Our driver, for whom English was not I think his first language, joined in our laughter, and then told us that his favourite politician-statement is George W Bush’s “95% of our [America’s of course] imports come from other countries”*. We all wondered where the other 5% of imports came from! The driver, who’d clearly given this some thought, generously suggested Bush might have meant Canada. Anyhow, this drive made for an enjoyable close to our time in Hobart – and we arrived home several hours later having had a very enjoyable holiday.

* I checked this. Apparently the actual quote was “more and more of our imports come from overseas” (said in Beaverton, Oregon on 25/9/2000)