Tasmania, Australia’s Island state in the wild Bass Strait is known for its astounding natural beauty – Sam Wallace takes a closer look..
A ferocious sou’easter tears across The Neck lookout on Bruny Island. There’s nothing but 1700km of Tasman Sea between this 100m-wide isthmus of sand dunes and New Zealand’s Fiordland coast. But it’s almost certain the frigid gale from this quarter has travelled many more thousands of kilometres, over the Southern Ocean straight from Antarctica. It’s only the first day of a nine-day Globus coach tour of “rugged” Tasmania, and we’re barely out of Hobart, but we’re already, literally, being blown away.
On the northwestern side of The Neck, however, the sea is calm and views of the Tasmanian mainland promise another side to this 1200km road trip: comfortable accommodation, great food and drink, and a fascinating itinerary that rolls through landscapes shaped by powerful forces, both natural and human.
More than once we'll be told Tassie is closer to Antarctica than it is to Cairns or Darwin. This remoteness was surely a reason why recidivist convicts from the New South Wales colony began to be sent here from 1803. Our adventure starts in Hobart, where they first pitched up, and around Salamanca and Battery Point - now the place of weekend markets, busy eateries and genteel harbour-edge housing - evidence of those rough colonial beginnings is an easy stroll from our hotel.
Bruny Island is an island off the south-eastern coast of Tasmania, from which it is separated by the D'Entrecasteaux Channel. Photo / Supplied
First up on my first coach tour is a short meet and greet; tour director Robyn introduces us to our travelling companions, and the delights of Devil's Corner pinot noir and sparkling cuvee, made just a couple of hours away up the Tasman Highway. Later, we head for a nightcap in the Crowne Plaza's rooftop Aura bar. Surrounded by hillsides of twinkling suburban lights, a glass of Charles Oates blanco - a twice-distilled cider spirit made from apples grown just west of the city - seems like the perfect aid to contemplate the days ahead.
The trip to Bruny Island is with local operator Pennicott Wilderness Journeys. On the 45-minute drive south to the ferry at Kettering we see a sign for the town of Sandfly and pass through the settlement of Snug. Tour guide Andrew lives just down the coast in Flowerpot, he tells us. And there was me thinking "wombat" was a strange thing to be called.
Bruny, says Andrew, is a mini-Tasmania: the variety of landscapes found on the mainland are all here. We see golden beaches, rocky headlands, temperate rainforest. All 12 endemic Tasmanian bird species are found here. On The Neck, little penguins nest in burrows you can see from the lookout boardwalk.
Along the isthmus, South Bruny gets three times the rainfall of North Bruny, much of it falling on the day of our visit. Undaunted, we enjoy a stop at Resolution Creek in Adventure Bay, where Captain Cook anchored to take on fresh water. By the creek is Two Gum Point, and a plaque depicting a 1792 painting by George Tobin, who was an officer and ship's artist under Captain William Bligh. After 230 years the gum trees look exactly the same as they do in Tobin's watercolour.
Freycinet National Park is one of the destinations visited on a Globus Rugged Tasmania coach tour. Photo / Supplied
Art appreciation is hungry work, so fortunately lunch is a splendid affair at Pennicott's own restaurant overlooking the bay. First up is Bruny cheese, then a tasting of the local oysters; they sell 100,000 dozen a year of these plump and juicy morsels, and only on the island, including via a drive-in. Finally, the delicious blue-eye trevalla, or cod, and chips washed down nicely with the freshest Bruny Island Brewing whey stout.
There's time to stop and taste the whisky and apple brandy at Hounds Tooth distillery before the coach times its run for the return ferry perfectly. The sun seems to have given up early for the day, beaten by the thunderclouds and hills around Hobart as we return to the hotel.
Rod, our driver for the week, has the coach outside the hotel at 8am. Robyn assigns seats - she will rotate who gets the prime front rows throughout the tour - but there is loads of room to sit where we want. Rolling out of the city, I test my reclining seat and footrest, listen to the safety audio, make a note of the toilet at the rear, and watch the road ahead on the TV above the windscreen.
Robyn and Rod are a knowledgeable double act: Tasmanians both, Robyn is a constant source of information and history about the places we pass; while Rod's nuggets of wisdom are delivered as drily and gravelly as his driving is smooth.
We are travelling now into the heart of heart-shaped Tasmania, following the River Derwent heading west, then into the centre, where the bulk of the state's rivers, lakes and mountains generate hydro-power. Like a heart, the left pumps - electricity in this case (there are 54 dams and 30 hydro schemes on the River Derwent alone) - to where it's needed in the drier, more populated east and south.
On the water, black swans and their mirror images are silhouettes in the bright sun, while signs of human impact on the environment are reflected all around: smokestacks of the Nyrstar zinc smelter, the second largest in the world; the last golden leaves in the orchards - this is the Apple Isle after all; plantation pine trees to feed the Norske Skog Boyer newsprint mill.
Freycinet Lodge in Tasmania's Freycinet National Park. Photo / Supplied
Our first stop is just inside Mt Field National Park, on the edge of a mostly continuous conservation area that dominates south and west Tasmania: about 42 per cent of the state’s 68,000sq km of land is protected as reserves or as World Heritage Sites. Russell Falls is a delight: a stepped cascade viewed via a loop track suitable for any mobility level. Look out for the swamp gums, which are the world’s tallest flowering plants.
The next two-hour stretch on the road climbs up through plantation pine, down to the bouldered Nive River with the twin Tarraleah and Tungatinah power stations limpetted to the valley floor, and up again on to the central highlands. Lunch is a schooner of James Boag Draught and pie and chips at the log-cabin throwback Derwent Bridge Hotel.
Then, a natural wonder and a man-made one. Lake St Clair - Leeawuleena, or "sleeping water" in the Aboriginal language - is mill pond-still despite a stiff southerly wind and looks as cold as you'd expect for Australia's deepest freshwater lake, formed by glaciation over millions of years.
Russell Falls at Tasmania's Mount Field National Park. Photo / Supplied
Meanwhile, formed over less than 20 years, the Wall in the Wilderness is testament to one man's artistic vision: to depict the indigenous and colonial history of the Central Highlands, carved in relief from 3m-high wood panels, 100m in length. Sculptor Greg Duncan first built what feels like a Viking banqueting hall, with the two-sided wall's feast of images running the central length. The fine grain and warm colour of the huon pine panels come to life in the carvings of emu, the extinct thylacine (Tasmanian tiger) horses and carts, men and machinery.
The last leg of the day's journey is a sobering reminder of the historical impact of mining on the landscapes of Tasmania. Crossing manmade Lake Burbury takes us out of the conservation area and into the blasted wastelands of the Linda Valley and Mt Lyell. It's a harsh description of a place where gold was first discovered in 1883, before richer deposits of copper were torn from the ground. Bare rock, the stains of mineral deposits and the deep scars of the Iron Blow opencast mine deserve all the ravaged, moonscape comparisons, and more. But there's a fearful beauty also: from the Iron Blow Lookout the too-blue lake at the bottom of the pit mesmerises, and the dropping sun sets fire to the mineral reds and oranges on the mountainsides.
Boathouse at Cradle Mountain National Park in Tasmania. Photo / Supplied
Robyn tells us 50 per cent of Tasmania's economy derives from metals. Later on the tour we pass the enormous tin-mining operation near Rosebery. At Macquarie Harbour on the west coast the intense logging of the slow-growing huon pine, prized for shipbuilding because of its hardness and natural waterproofing oils, continues the story of extractive industry. Timber and metal - the "piners and the miners", says Robyn, shaped what Tassie is today. Throw in the "turbiners" - the hydro schemes - and the pro-conservation reaction to their excesses, and you begin to grasp the forces at play in rugged Tasmania.
But above Queenstown in the shadow of Mt Lyell, Rod tells us, mountain biking is now a popular drawcard for visitors. And the "winers" - to quote Robyn's delightfully rhyming slip of the tongue - such as Josef Chromy are producing fine vintages from their 2000 hectares of vines to wash down the bounty of trout, salmon and oysters harvested from cool southern waters.
I'll take the rough with the smooth, the Rod and the Robyn, the Boag beer and the Bruny brandy. Blow me away anytime, Tassie.
CHECKLIST: TASMANIA
GETTING THERE Air New Zealand has resumed its direct Auckland to Hobart service, now operating twice-weekly. airnz.co.nz
DETAILS Contact Globus for details of Tasmania guided tours, as well as other Australian and global itineraries. globustours.co.nz
