Down South

After our time in the “Wild West” — I think that’s what they call it — we made our way south. A couple of nights in Hobart, then we found a place to camp and settled in for a few days.

Camping has a way of bringing you closer to everything. Just a thin layer of canvas between you and the outside world. Not quite exposed, but close enough to feel it — the wind, the sounds, the occasional rustle that makes you wonder what’s out there.

If you’ve been following along, you’ll know about our once-a-week burger habit. This time, we went a little bougie.

A roaring fire. Tassie beef. Brioche buns. Fried onion.
And then — we took it up a level.

Brie.

Melted, rich, slightly indulgent.
A melt-your-heart kind of burger.

I had two. Don’t judge me.

After washing up, I felt a little like Snow White — animals quietly gathering nearby as we settled in to watch The Grand Budapest Hotel. Not exactly roughing it.

We slept… reasonably. The wind had other ideas. At one point I thought we might wake up somewhere in Kansas, but the tent held, and so did we.

Morning came. Time to explore — and walk off two burgers.

First stop: a coffee van perched at the top of a hill, with a view to match.

The south is wild. Raw. Beautiful in a way that feels untouched.

We hiked out to Cape Raoul Lookout — an easy walk, really, if you can call a couple of hours uphill “easy.” Still, worth every step. If the full Three Capes Track is anything like this, it would be something special.

Next on my list was Remarkable Cave.

I’m working on a photography project centred around water, wind, and the natural world, so this felt like the right place to be. Standing there, watching the ocean — water that’s travelled endlessly — crashing into the cliffs of a small place like Australia… it puts things into perspective.

It’s kind of wild when you think about it.

The walking must have done its job, because I was hungry again. We stopped into the Port Arthur General Store for a pie and sat at a slightly rickety table, petrol fumes in the air, trying to figure out our next move. Accommodation was, once again, scarce.

Wildlife Log — Tasmania

Wombat — roadkill
Tasmanian Devil — roadkill
Pademelons — campsite visitors
Bandicoot — campsite visitor
Quoll — roadkill
Platypus — Henty River
Tiger snake — Henty River
Wallaby — Great Lakes cabin
Koala — nope

Fish — still nope.