We traveled across the unusually placid Bass Strait to arrive at Burnie early this morning. As I see it, Tasmania is to Australia as Australia is to the rest of the world: an island at the very edge of civilization. While most of Oz is red, Tasmania is much greener. The primary product seemed to be wood and wood products like paper.
The town was out in force to meet our ship. The mayor and his wife posed for photos at the gangway. The town-supplied shuttle bus, complete with several volunteers, took us from the port to the Makers' Workshop, devoted to explaining the making of paper. Also for sale were several other offerings from artists and craftspeople.
They had several papier-mache sculptures that I liked.
Our rental car was right next door and we headed south towards Cradle Mountain National Park
We passed through lots of what I call "Weyerhauser" forests, full of softwoods all about the same age, with areas off clear-cutting nearby.
An overlook with our first view of Cradle Mountain.
Dove Lake with Cradle Mountain. The notch is the cradle, with the bump being the baby's head. There is a walk around Dove Lake--6K--but we only walked to Glacier Rock--beautiful.
The theme of the park seems to be slow-growing ferns and lichens. This rock displays some of them.
We ate lunch at a hotel/restaurant/art gallery just outside the park. This is one of their sculptures.
Right next to the gift shop is another sculpture, with stuffed animals as the medium, symbolizing a tree. I think.
Wilmot Lake, a stop on the way back, is a hydroelectric facility. Tasmania, unlike the rest of Australia, seems to have lots of water. Our Melbourne friends seemed to be envious.
Lots of agriculture--various veggies, we think.
When we returned the car and waited in the Makers' Workshop for the return shuttle, I found this map on the wall. Without planning it, we followed the orange loop on the map out to Cradle Mountain and back.
This is an inside joke. The ship's newsletter said the ship would leave at 8pm, with the last shuttle leaving the Makers' Workshop at 6pm. And the shuttle was the only way back to the boat. On the morning ride out of the port, the volunteer said the last shuttle was at 5pm, to a chorus of complaints. Apparently all was figured out eventually, but many people came back early due to bad information.
The town was out in force to meet our ship. The mayor and his wife posed for photos at the gangway. The town-supplied shuttle bus, complete with several volunteers, took us from the port to the Makers' Workshop, devoted to explaining the making of paper. Also for sale were several other offerings from artists and craftspeople.
They had several papier-mache sculptures that I liked.
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