Australia

Tassie-land

We have arrived in Tasmania – or “Tassie” as the locals like to call it. Tasmania is of course the land of origin of the infamous Tasmanian devil, but has so much more to offer – for starters: great wine!

Departing from Sydney it was a 90-minute flight to Tasmania’s capital city Hobart. Let’s also start by setting the record straight: Tasmania is not a country. It is part of the Australian federation and one of the country’s six states. Our first stay is at Orana House in Hobart, where we drove from the airport in this journey’s first rental. It is a white Hyundai and it has its steering wheel on the wrong side of the car. But since everyone also drives on the wrong side of the road, one barely notices it. Anyways, our hotel has a lovely British garden with the most marvellously coloured flowers in it.

img_20181120_182132

The interior seems to be left over from the days Victoria was still the queen of Australia, but we have all common rooms to ourselves, as well as a large kitchen and the washing machine. At first I thought this was because we were the only guests, but breakfast the next day revealed that that was most certainly not the case. Apparently these people like to sit in their own rooms very quietly each night. With such a large kitchen at hand, we made our own dinner and some in advance for the next day when we would pack up and go north – to where the wine is.

I almost forgot: there was a good reason we stayed two night in Hobart. We visited former British penal colony Port Arthur. A very interesting site! I mean, it must have been terrible to stay there, but from a sociological point of view very interesting. Included in the ticket were a short boat ride to the isle of dead and the island that housed Britain’s first juvenile prison. After that we got a tour on land of the remains of the different prison facilities. Bryn, our guide, was brilliant! He had a lot of nice anecdotes and facts, which made it the perfect tour. After that we strolled around and took a look inside everywhere we could. I made a short movies, both to improve my movie making skills (yes, I still have some more work cut out for me) and to give you an impression of the place.

I guess some of you are wondering how I ever got out of this place, but no worries! I got myself a special pass to go on shore leave!

IMG_20181121_172349.jpg

The next day we repacked our suitcases. In earlier times pirates used to simply throw their possessions in a chest,  bury it and be done.  Since I am just a small pirate and a girl pirate that wants to change cloths every now and then, I decided upon a suitcase. Although this option apparently is not much lighter than the chest optionaccording to JetStar anyways:

img_20181120_162945

Chest or suitcase: it was a mess! I was unpacking everything on a daily basis because everything was buried under everything else. Pinterest to the rescue! I found out something called “packing cubes” exists and is even sold around the corner. Next to that, apparently rolling your clothes is the new packing, so now everything is rolled up and put into cubes that make my suitcase better organized than my wardrobe at home. Happy pirate 🙂

Having repacked for hopefully the last time the next three months, we went to MONA. The museum for old and (mostly) modern art. There is a small vineyard around the museum, that absolutely hates humans:

img_20181122_144248

The museum itself was big, modern and yes I must say interesting. I am not a modern art lover so a lot is lost on me (most modern art is pretentious and ugly in my eyes, so why bother?!) but there were some pieces that triggered me. Read more about it in mr. Scientist’s post though.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s