A Devilishly Good Tasmanian Road Trip

​Another blog post that’s going to cover a lot of ground – since we ourselves covered a lot of ground in just a week! Welcome to our Tasmanian road trip adventure. Before we begin, a quick visual on the route.

The flights that Vincent and Rachel had booked were an arrival into Launceston and a departure out of Hobart. Normally we’d just book a one-way rental car, but since I was already in Hobart, we had the option of a round trip. By adding an extra leg (from Hobart to Launceston) this meant I could pick them up at the airport when they arrived on Christmas Eve, when things might be closed. At least, that was the idea.

The rental car was a white Kia Rio. I was happy to be in a compact car again, since I’m accustomed to the dimensions, but the accelerator was quite lacking. After picking it up in Hobart, I started the drive to Launceston and made two stops along the way.

The first stop was at the Bonorong Wildlife Sanctuary, about 30 minutes from Hobart. During check-in, I was handed a bag of kangaroo food, given some basic instructions on feeding them, then let loose in the sanctuary. I timed my visit with one of the guided tours, which turned out to be really insightful.

The guide started by introducing us to a 109-year-old sulfur-crested cockatoo named Fred, one of the oldest birds in the world. Though Fred was quiet in front of the crowd, he apparently has an Australian accent from his original owner, who left Fred to the sanctuary in his will. The way that Fred fanned the yellow feathers on the top of his head was entertaining – quite spry for an old gentleman. Beside the enclosure was a letter from the queen, congratulating Fred on his 100th birthday. The guide, whose hair was now dyed black, said that Fred had a bias against blondes. ​

​The tour also included a stop at the animal hospital, where the sanctuary employs a staff of specialized veterinarians to assess and treat the injured animals as they come in. Tasmania is unfortunately considered the roadkill capital of the world, and when ordinary civilians find animals in distress, Bonorong is one of the places who will respond to the call. The hospital had a one-way glass wall showing the operating table and instruments. Though the room was empty at the time, there was a screen with a list of the day’s patients including an echidna, several birds, and several reptiles.

Next up was a wombat that nibbled on the guide’s belt while she told us about the species. Wombats have a thick bone on their backside that works as a defense mechanism. When a predator chases the wombat into its hole, it uses its backside to crush the predator against the roof of the tunnel. Wombats also have square poo, allowing them to be placed by the entrances to their tunnels as markers. One more fun fact was that wombats go through a major personality change at about 2 years of age, and will reject their human caretakers like rebellious teenagers. This means that wombats can be successfully released into the wild even after being accustomed to humans in their early years.

​The final portion of the guided tour was the Tasmanian Devils, an animal named by early explorers for their reflective eyes and translucent red ears when seen at night. The devils are misunderstood, but still raise a few eyebrows. They have amazing jaw strength for their size and can eat 30% of their body weight in 30 minutes. ​They’re mainly scavengers, rather than hunters, and end up in dangerous situations when scavenging alongside the road. The population was almost wiped out by a disease that caused facial tumors, with a 100% mortality rate due to starvation. Despite these existential threats, the animals themselves were so cute! Some were sprawled out on their bellies in the sun, others were awkwardly galloping around. But they are apparently vicious when mating season comes around. The male will guard the entrance to the den where the female is resting, and have brutal fights with competitors, leading to many battle scars. Inside the den, the newborn devils fight for one of the four nursing spots. Not an easy life.

​The sanctuary had lots of other animals too. Blue-tongued lizards, tawny frogmouth owls, parrots, kookaburras, echidnas, and emus. It was the kangaroos that stole the show. There were a hundred or so, scattered around an open space in the center of the sanctuary. Since everyone had a bag of food, they were very well fed. Several that I approached didn’t seem to be hungry at all. However, there were still a few takers! It was fun to feel their tongues scoop up the mix of grains from my palm. I had never seen one up close before, and they were amazing. The fluffy ears, the sleek claws, the goofy way they crawl on all fours, or flop down on the ground. Since it was allowed, I even gave one a neck rub. (They don’t like touching on their backs or tails, an instruction which several other guests had clearly missed.) My favorite moment was an Indian parent telling their small child not to turn their back on a large kangaroo, as if it was some kind of dangerous animal. Quite the opposite! The ones at the sanctuary were super mellow around people.

​On the way out of the kangaroo area, I went back to the hospital to watch the video reel with “patient stories.” I loved seeing the footage of a Tasmanian devil treated with a tiny little leg cast, making a full recovery. The videos went into surprising detail – explaining the catheters for intubating large birds, how to customize anesthesia masks for animals with different face shapes, and how to take x-rays of an echidna. Maybe they need a medical device engineer? Fun fact, echidnas are so good at getting out of boxes that they’re transported in containers with at least four latches. 

Bonorong was absolutely worth the visit. I got a coffee from their small café, which was entirely plant-based, and continued the drive. I stopped for lunch in the historic town of Ross, checking out the old stone bridge and trying their famous scallop pies. I was pleasantly surprised to find a yellow curry sauce was the base for the filling.
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The road to Launceston was easy to navigate with ample passing lanes and a solid fence in the median. The car’s accelerator struggled up the hill into the Riverside neighborhood, which was a rural suburb of Launceston. I checked into the AirBNB, a beautiful home with a large garden, and relaxed for a bit. Catching me totally by surprise was a wild echidna, perfectly visible through the living room window, browsing through the soil just 10 or 15 feet away from the house. While I watched in awe, a wallaby went zooming by in broad daylight. I was very excited to be spending 3 nights there.

​I picked up some groceries at the local Woolworth’s, made a pasta dinner, and had a lamington from the bakery in Ross for a Christmas Eve dessert. Coordinating with Vince and Rachel, I learned they made it from Uluru to Melbourne, but were stranded there due to several weather-related flight delays. Rather than picking them up at the airport as planned, they took an Uber when they arrived in the middle of the night. Before bed, I went outside at dusk and watched the wallabies in the yard. It was a little eerie being at this rural house by myself at night. A creepy spider right by the front door, the gong-like croaks of the frogs, and the maniacal laughter of the kookaburras really did not help. I went back inside.

​The first day of our reunion was a rest day that coincided with Christmas. We had the chance to talk to loved ones back home, catch up on sleep, laundry, journaling, and trip planning. The wildlife was a delightful distraction. We saw another echidna, several wallabies including one with a joey in the pouch, and two pademelons (like a wallaby, but smaller). Many sightings were just outside the window! It was a nature lover’s treat. We watched the wallabies use their T-rex arms to pull down tree branches, and shake their floppy ears. Later on, we saw the joey hopping around independently, having emerged from the pouch – a Christmas joey!

​We went for a nice walk in the neighborhood, saying hello to some friendly pet donkeys in an enclosure. Vincent attempted to speak their language with a convincing bray. In response, the horse next door let out a perfectly timed neigh that sounded exactly like a laugh. After a good laugh ourselves, we joked that if anyone was bitten by the donkey, we’d have to take them to the “Eee-Rrr.” On the walk, there were also nice views of the river, some magpies and cockatoos, and a few Christmas kangaroo lawn ornaments.

​For our Christmas meal, we had roasted pinkeye potatoes and cauliflower from the Hobart farmer’s market, plus carrots glazed with Bruny Island honey. We tried a low alcohol wine, a rose with <0.5% ABV. The special dessert of plant-based chocolate cake was decisively finished off.

​Our Boxing Day activity was an ambitious day trip to Cradle Mountain. We stopped by the rental car agency in Launceston to get Vincent added as a driver, and he really carried the day. It was 2 hours to the entrance of Cradle Mountain on challenging rural roads. The curves weren’t well marked with a suggested speed, and other drivers routinely strayed across the median as they went around. At least the scenery was great, with interesting forests and mountain views.

​At Cradle Mountain, we took a shuttle from the visitor center to Dove Lake. It was a popular park, but they encouraged people to hike the Dove Lake circuit counterclockwise which helped reduce congestion. The views of the lake were lovely, with reddish orange water along the shore and dark blue water in the distance. The pointy peaks of Cradle Mountain towered above, perfectly visible on this sunny day. We followed the well-maintained boardwalks around the perimeter of the lake.

​In pursuit of wombats, we took a connector trail from Dove Lake towards Ronny Creek and kept our eyes peeled. We weren’t entirely sure what we were looking for, but all three of us were intent on finding a wild wombat. Though the plants weren’t our focus, the setting itself was unique and worth the trek regardless of wildlife potential. As it turned out, the wombats were at the end of the trail in an open grassy area, with a crowd of tourists giving away their location. The first one we saw was grazing right below the boardwalk, chowing down just feet from the paparazzi, seemingly unfazed. It was like a giant gray teddy bear – much larger than the one I saw at Bonorong. We were totally thrilled with the one sighting, but ended up seeing several more, including a mother and little wombat in the distance.

We crammed ourselves on the park shuttle and returned to the visitor center. I mistakenly got off at the wrong stop, but managed to get back on before the bus left.
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Right next to the National Park was a wildlife sanctuary called Devils @ Cradle that Rachel and Vince were interested in checking out. They had a much larger cohort of devils than Bonorong, including some adults that were hissing and fighting and some juveniles that were bouncing around. For me, the highlight was their quolls, another type of carnivorous marsupial. Described as “baby faced assassins,” these tiny critters are hunters that can take down larger animals. The sanctuary had spotted-tail quolls, including a mean-looking male that was perched right next to the glass, and a difficult female that eluded the keepers until they gave up. They also had eastern quolls, which looked so innocent with their large, startled eyes.

After another difficult drive, we made it back to Launceston and had a curry dinner. I was very pleased with the powerful induction stove, which made the stir-frying quick and easy. They even had a wok and a rice cooker, some of the nicest kitchen amenities of the trip.
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We said goodbye to our wallaby and pademelon friends, kept an eye on a large tarantula-looking spider by the door, and left our Launceston AirBNB. But before leaving "Lonnie," we checked out the Cataract Gorge, a steep canyon just minutes away from the town center. We did a short hike around a lake, crossing a suspension bridge and soaking in the scene. There was a large grassy field with a manmade swimming pool, a bright blue against the dark blue of the lake. Overhead, colorful carts drifted by on a scenic chairlift. Peacocks wandered around the edges of the café, where I got my first iced latte of summer. A funky little funicular brought us back up to the parking lot.

​Driving east towards the coast, we made a detour to see the Bridestowe Lavender estate. We arrived during the peak, and the line of cars was moving slowly, so we had our lunch in the car. But it was worth the wait! Even rows of lavender as far as the eye could see, with plenty of room for everyone to get their photos. People were nicely dressed and having a good time. The fields were buzzing with bees and chirping with cicadas. The farm had around 650,000 lavender plants, and if they were placed in one row, it would reach all the way to Hobart. After a good frolick, we got some lavender ice cream too.

I tagged in to drive for the leg from the lavender farm to St. Helens. It was another rural drive, and a little rainy, but not too many cars on the road. Along the road I spotted some yellow-tailed black cockatoos and a kookaburra.

Our hotel in St. Helens was a private room with a shared kitchen and bathroom. We picked up ingredients for a chili dinner and sweet potatoes. One of the sweet potatoes was the shape of a boomerang, so we had to test out its aerodynamics. Two bubbly Indian ladies complimented our food while they microwaved theirs. It was a rainy night, perfect for relaxing.

​The storm cleared and we drove to Binalong Beach, the southernmost beach on the Bay of Fires. The white sand, turquoise water, and crashing waves were a pleasant surprise after the rain. Families played in the sand, and surfers found modest success on the waves. We walked to the far end of the beach, trudging across the compressible and coarse sand. I shed my hiking boots when a rogue wave drenched my ankles.

​On the far end was an outcrop of boulders, covered with bright red moss – a signature of the Bay of Fires. While posing for photos, poor Rachel was soaked by the spray from a crashing wave. I put my boots back on and hopped across a few more boulders, admiring the contrast of the bright red moss against the ocean blue.

We drove a little further to Cosy Corner, a smaller beach with an inviting name. In reality, we found a grizzly campervan park, gray skies, and churning waves. We ate our lunch while looking at a seagull that was missing a foot. As the next storm arrived, we started driving south towards Bicheno.
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It was only an hour to Bicheno, and it was nice to have a shorter leg. Our accommodation was an actual hotel called with Beachfront Bicheno. After so many AirBNBs, it was strange to visit a front desk with a real human being. Vince and I went for a short hike up to Whaler’s Point, with great views of Governor Island and overlooking the town. Though our room didn’t have a microwave, Vince and Rachel got help from the hotel staff and came back with heated chili, broccoli, and sweet potatoes for dinner. I had a local beer from Bicheno Brewing, with a cute penguin logo (Bicheno has a penguin colony, like the one we saw in Dunedin). A spectacular sunset rainbow stretched all the way across the sky.

​From Bicheno we drove to Freycinet National Park, a peninsula jutting off the east coast. The parking lot was overloaded but we found a spot alongside the road, and started the hike to the Wineglass Bay Overlook. It was steep, and we were carrying our heavy valuables, but it wasn’t too long distance-wise. The viewing platform had several tiers, all of which had amazing views looking down into Wineglass Bay. The perfect curve of the white beach was sparkling in the afternoon sun. Boats were speckled in the harbor, and sandstone cliffs extended off into the distance. We could even glimpse the turquoise shallows of Hazard Bay on the other side of the peninsula. For lunch, I ate a curry scallop pie from a bakery in Bicheno. A wild wallaby loitered near the platform, seemingly dazed by all the people. Someone offered it food; Rachel spoke up and told them not to.

​We completed the rest of the east coast drive, stopping to stretch our legs on Orford Beach. A large jellyfish the size of a deflated basketball rolled in the waves. Our destination that afternoon was not Hobart, as originally planned, but New Norfolk. The AirBNB in Hobart had cancelled on us with 1 day notice due to a family emergency. We scrambled to find a replacement, and options were pretty grim with the holidays and yacht race in full swing, but we snagged a room in a classic BNB in this less touristy area.

We followed the river Derwent upstream to New Norfolk and checked into the quaint Old Colony Inn. It had a garden, steep wooden steps, an anvil-esque doorjamb, and vaguely Elizabethan artwork. One painting had a noble lady holding what appeared to be a Tasmanian devil. We walked across town to a kebab place for dinner. New Norfolk was a little rough around the edges. Shabby buildings, a large campervan park by the water, and a Woolworth’s with lots of empty shelves. The Wifi was weak-to-nonexistent, which put a damper on the evening.

​The next morning was full of complicated logistics. Our goal was to arrive at the MONA at 10:00am, while also returning our rental car and borrowing a car from Elsje and Daryl. The owner of the Old Colony Inn, a lady named Penelope, offered a wonderful breakfast including vegan toast with chili and avocado. It was both unexpectedly filling and time-consuming. Penelope was full of ideas on vegetarian and vegan cooking, so it was hard not to be drawn in, especially since Vince coincidentally had a goal of eating more beans-on-toast for breakfast.

Heading back down south along the river Derwent, we first stopped for gas and then drove up the hill to Elsje and Daryl’s place. Everyone exchanged quick introductions, and we dropped off our bags for the day. The three of us took the rental car to the dropoff location. Daryl picked us up in the Kona, drove back to his house, and then left the Kona with us for the day. It was super generous for them to suggest this arrangement, as it gave us more time at the MONA and meant we didn’t have to worry about our bags or returning the car on time.
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The Museum of Old and New Art (MONA) is the pet project of David Walsh, who made his fortune counting cards at casinos. It's a 3-story labyrinth carved into the sandstone foundation, with stripes of Triassic rock visible in many hallways. The branding of the museum was both irreverent and self-aware. The bar advertised "cocktails, pizza, emptiness."  Fenced off construction areas were printed with “David is building yet another thing.” None of the art was physically labelled, but information was accessible via the museum’s app. The app even allowed you to join a virtual queue for limited capacity installations and would send you a notification when it was almost your turn. While the app worked quite well, the lack of signage in the museum made it a bit confusing to navigate the maze – perhaps that was the intent.

​The first gallery was dark and elegant, with velvet curtains and tall-backed armchairs. It housed an eclectic international set of provocative works, including a set of chocolates made from casts of open wounds, a bear-rug style pelt made from a kitten, and a hanging marble statue that evoked a dead horse. The second gallery had stylistically simple sculptures from a particular artist, including a section of bone that appeared to be supporting the ceiling and some CNC machined boulders. The third gallery was a collection of Orthodox Christian artwork from around the world, that offered an amazing comparative art experience. They had Greek and Russian art that reminded me of Meteora, but also Ethiopian and Syrian art including healing scrolls.

High on my list was an art installation from the Icelandic musician Jónsi, meant to evoke the recent volcanic eruptions. We were led into a dark, circular room that was ringed with giant speakers. The music was typical Jónsi – slow, layered, and shifting subtly over time. Mouthed pops and hisses evoked the bubbling lava, while the rumbles of the deep bass conveyed the power coming from the earth. I enjoyed it but it was definitely out there – I was hoping for a visual element. We had lunch on the lawn, which had several performance stages including a guitarist who was yodeling a song as people passed by.
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The labyrinth had even more surprises in store. A guitar and bass clarinet duo played jazz in front of an enormous mural. Rachel went ahead into a green curtained area that was for women only. A series of bioreactors digested food and produced artificial poop. A red sports car with a bloated body was barely recognizable as a Porsche under its marshmallow folds. Out of all these quirky works, the fan favorite was a waterfall that spelled words from Google News headlines out of water droplets, a metaphor for this deluge of information.

After a busy morning and so many galleries, the museum fatigue hit me hard. We returned to Daryl’s and had a few minutes to chat. We even squeezed in some more family history!
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Elsje called her relative Karyn, who worked as a receptionist for Dr. Eva Zvatora (my Czech relative). Karyn told us what she could remember about the Zvatoras. She said Eva was very nice, spoke good English, wasn’t a socialite, and worked as a dentist at an office that served multiple schools in the area. Eva’s husband Tony was a doctor, one of the few in the area, and so was a fixture of the community. His job sounded stressful, always being on call. One of their fellow Czech immigrants started a successful winery (based on a follow-up internet search, I believe it was Josef Chromy). They had two children, Danny and Mark. Sadly, Mark committed suicide in high school after a relationship fell apart. It was devastating to the family; Tony later committed suicide himself. Elsje speculated that the immigrant post-war experience, including not being able to share your struggles with your new community, and the secondary trauma passed down to the next generation, may have played a role. I believed her; she was raised by a Dutch family who had their own WWII traumas before moving to Tasmania.

We bid Daryl and the pets farewell. Elsje was kind enough to drive us to the Hobart airport. We ate our dinner of premade falafel and hummus before security, to help reduce the weight of our carry-on bags. Thankfully, Jetstar did not subject us to any spot checks for bag weight. The gift shop in the airport had products from the lavender farm we visited and of course, lots of souvenirs with Tassie devils.

It was a whirlwind 7-day tour of Tasmania, and it was hard to believe it was over. While the quantity of driving was high (well over 1000km), we saw a lot of amazing parks, beaches, animals, and art. Having four different overnight stays, including a curveball AirBNB cancellation, was tough but we prevailed. The time with Daryl and Elsje, and their help with uncovering family history, made Tasmania even more meaningful on a personal level.