Pristine wilderness, clear mountain streams and questionable genes

All the stereotypes about Tasmania are largely true: pristine wilderness, slow pace, clean air, a unique and varied environment and friendly locals with questionable parentage.

For the last 3 days we’ve been camping on the banks of the Pieman River in the remote old mining town of Corinna on the rugged and remote west coast. In the 1880s it had two hotels and serviced about 3000 miners and Huon Pine cutters. By 1900 there was only one man left – an old Swedish miner who stayed on to run the ferry across the Pieman River. I can’t imagine he was that busy and apparently was happy to accept payment at the other side.

Today the Tarkine Lodge and attached campground cater for the streams of Grey Nomads (and the odd young family) that stream through the tiny town at about 50 per day. We’ve softened our view of Grey Nomads since our earlier blog. We’ve discovered them to be very friendly, interested, interesting and helpful. I think they’re bored and miss their grand kids. At the sight of our 3 little ferals one couple came up and offered their services as “professional grandparents” – we couldn’t accept fast enough.

After leaving Corinna this morning via “The Fatman” car barge we hoped to drive the 270km of winding road to Hobart. The kids had another idea. So we’ve ended up in the tiny hydro-electric town of Tarraleah in a restored art-deco house – still owned and run by Hydro Tasmania. It’s a wonderful, untouched example of a 1930’s state run town – all beautiful manicured streets and lawns, fountains and civic buildings in the middle of nowhere – think Canberra on a tiny scale. It has been well maintained and has a fascinating history of the very impressive hydro scheme (built over 70 years ago – its still has the capacity to sell power back the mainland cheaper than Latrobe valley can generate) – now enough of the 4^th form geography lesson.

Reflections on camping with 3 little kids: overall fantastic fun, occasionally very challenging and fascinating watching them adapt to a very different lifestyle. With no TV and home comforts they have quickly reverted to little bush elves with bedraggled hair, a good collection of cuts and bruises and a permanent manic expression.

We’ve got way too much gear – a big cull will take place back in Melbourne – but have some great items. The outstanding bits of gear: Waeco 60l fridge, various headlamps, ARB tubeless puncture repair kit (you’re not a man until you repair your own car tyre), 2 trestle tables (you can never have enough bench space), wireless internet (for around the campfire), Cobb cooker (brilliant – had slow roasted Tassie venison on the banks of the Pieman last night) and our little solar mobile phone charger. OK, so we’re soft.

Postscript to our “theft incident”: we discovered as we packed up our campsite at Blackwater Creek that our friendly local family had been getting into a bit of our stuff. One of them had tried to cut through my bike lock and had helped themselves to some batteries and had gone through some bags. But they at least came up to wave us off and Denise had even made a beautiful doily for Jane. We couldn’t get out of there fast enough (I could hear the sound of duelling banjos in the distance).

Love from Jane, Toby, Ollie, Eloise and Henry