Longford Mania in Tasmania, that's what he said

 

No one wants to read about how if you make it to the Qantas check in and you have already bag dropped three bags, but the bag drop time closes and you can’t take the fourth bag. Nor do they want to read a story about the fact that there are no taxis at Hobart airport. I’m certain there is minimal interest in just how little information you are told at your briefing by Val, when you pick up your 457 tonne motorhome. And admittedly they are little things – how to get hot water to work, how to avoid blowing up from LPG while on the road, how to make sure the things that stop your shit from stinking in the toilet don’t get a bit wet, because apparently, they are are water soluble. So none of that, just some high quality lessons for a nice relaxing Tasmanian holiday.

I’ll start by saying that driving a 6 berth motorhome is a lot like playing Fourza 4 after 8 beers, 6 bourbons and pizza.  It seems like you are doing so very well, but in fact, you are just a head tilt away from vomit and disaster.  I now realise why you can’t drink and drive in one of these 6-wheel mechanical bulls and it’s not because it is illegal. It is because that in the time it takes for you to remove one hand from the wheel and pull the can from the A/C refrigerated holder, right next to the steering wheel, (which give me hope that at some point it becomes easier to drink while driving, in fact expected) and get the can to your mouth, you can be completely on the wrong side of the road. That was at 45km/hr in the airport, so we will wait and see how the highway plays out.

The other side of the same coin is that pretty much at any point in any trip, you can not only stop and have a quiet beer, but if just ten minutes later that beer needs to leave, you just pull over again. Of course, as you have probably already guessed, it is a vicious cycle, and so now I understand why on the road signs they don’t put kilometres, they put times for people in motorhomes. For example, from Strahan to Cradle Mountain is only about 230 kms, but you won’t see that on a sign – you will see 3hrs 45 minutes.  Makes sense.

If you ever get the opportunity to drive a land based tugboat from Hobart to Strahan, you will have to go through Queenstown, which I am informed was, a long time ago, one of the world’s largest gold producers.  I believe that for two reasons.  The first is that as they dug out the gold, they just shoved the tailings a bit away from the hole they were digging, resulting is what I can only describe as the largest piles of rubble I have ever seen – I am talking hundreds and hundreds of metres tall AND wide and it goes for miles. And the worst part is, to get to Strahan, first you have to drive up this kilometres high pile of death and then down the other side to get into Queenstown- 98 turns in 6 km is unnecessary and a grand piss take by the locals. I guarantee there is a tunnel and a bit of straight road they know about, but it won’t be on GPS.  The second reason I believe it, is because that gold would be the only reason anyone would stay there – it looks like you are on another planet. That said, we did see a 2019 Cheery Red GT Mustang with about 132 locals and their cameras all standing around it and a rather fetching young lass dressed in her formal outfit getting in. Dream. Believe. Escape.

The 90 bends in the road into the Queenstown Valley, fun in a sports car, not in a motorhome. Image westeer.com.au

                                                                                                        

The thrills of Queenstown(discovertasmania.com) 

Strahan is an amazing place for so many reasons. The scenery, the old buildings and the connectedness of the people in the town.  For example we went into the Huon pine place (not its name but it’s a day and a half ago now) and wanted to buy a decent size mirror made of aged Huon pine that had to be shipped back up home and the first quote we got from Robert was “somewhere between two hundred and six hundred I reckon but I’ll have to ring Dave who is the artist and see if he will build a box to ship it, so I’ll let you know tomorrow because he building a deck with Stan, who laying the foundations for the shed.” Fair enough. Just three hours later we meet Stan who is serving craft beer at the other side of the Huon pine place, and gin, who sees us looking at the mirror again.  “Ohh you are the people looking at the mirror. Yeah I was helping Dave when he took the call from Robert and he will build you a box for that one.  Probably won’t be out of Huon Pine though mate.” Fair enough.

So, as we make our way to Cradle Mountain where I expect to see a mix of hard core, gaiter-wearing, Kathmandu sponsored, beard toting, backpack lugging, leather hat wearing, wandering warriors sitting on the same bus up to the park as the latte sipping, Peppers posturing, 1986 RWT drinking, tights wearing, “mildly surprised at how good that was” nature experience seekers. In between will be Mr A and Miss S, fighting over who gets to name the first echidna they see and if they will register it at his school, or hers, with me (smuggling) sipping my metal (cant see what is in it) water bottle well before 10am.

Copyright Steve Longford 2021