Brief Break from Tasmania Memories/Blogs

URGENT NEWS

Eh, it's not urgent. It's probably not even interesting. It's my love life. By the way, this is being posted about two weeks post-Tas. I'm just late in writing about my little trip.

So Tim and I are officially a couple. I think he must really like me, because the night before we made it official, I kissed another guy (Random #5) and the next day, even after I told Tim about it, he still wanted to be my boyfriend. So yeah. Maybe I caught myself a keeper, eh?

Right Moving on.

It's great. It really is a good thing, this whole relationship thing. I just, I dont know. I still want my unobtainable. Which is the point of an Unobtainable, isn't it? But sometimes i think I'm holding back in my relationship with Tim because i'm harbouring this childish, completely un-based idea that maybe Unobtainable will suddnely become obtainable or something. God, I wish my life were Cinderella's! Lol.

That's really about it. I got rid of the other randoms. Just Tim and Unobtainable. And me mourning the loss of my singleness! Riiiiiiiiiight. Hope you guys caught the sarcasm! More on TAsmania to come, including the actual interesting stories!

God Bless and Love!

Tassie- Day Two

Day 2

Day Two began early with the express intention of getting as far away from the Picked Frog as possible. Unfortunately, I had to order coffee, then there were no take away cups... so I had to chug my latte after it took the guy/hippie half an hour to make it... Anyway, I was just excited to be able to get coffee in the morning. Not having it would not have been good for my traveling companions.
Day Two... what did we do on day two? Oh yes. We had grand plans to drive to Lake St. Claire and the Cradle Mountains. Well, someone (might have been me...) misread the map, and was unable to read the travel guide (because I don't speak or read French) so we ended up at the Cradle Mountains and Lake St. Claire, but not at THE cradle mountain.
Things worked out fine, however, as we walked along some of the trains and observed the trees and various garbage birds who had eaten too much to fly. We then decided to go to Stahan to stay the night. Stahan appeared to be (on the map and in the travel guide) a good-sized town, which was good, because it was a Friday night, and hey, Friday nights in Australia mean drinking. Who am I kidding? Any night in Australia means drinking!
So we arrived to find Strahan, blinked, and lost it again. Yup, the map lied. Apparently, in Tasmania, towns with big dots on the map mean places where more than 500 people live. Stahan: Population 800. Not much for a night life, that's for sure.
We arrived in Stahan early, probably around two o'clock in the afternoon and headed to the beach. I was a bit hesitant to go to the beach, as the temperature was about, oh, maybe FREEZING! But Baptiste wanted to go. And I still felt extremely bad about the whole Cradle Mountain mis-reading thing, that I was like "okay". Besides, what else were we going to do in Stahan? Really.
So we went to Ocean Beach, a 33 km. beach along the west coast of Tasmania, and the most perfect beach in the entire world, I'm convinced of it. I don't know how to describe it... it was just peaceful. Quiet. Fairly un-touched and un-commercialized. It was the kind of place where one could just exist and not have to be anything beyond what they were just then. At that moment. No future. No past.
Perhaps I'm romanticizing it just a little bit. We went and got beer, which was the next logical step and drove back to the beach to watch the sunset. So we sat for a few hours, just drinking beer, not really talking, watching the waves roll in and just... being, I guess.
Dinner was at a fish place on the bay. The great thing about Tas is that no matter where you are, the seafood is fresh. I ordered Fish and Chips, as I was starving for a large quantity of grease and had a hankering for a clogged artery. Anyway, we're sitting there, talking about something, completely exhausted, and suddenly there's a bit of a disturbance at the next table. An elderly gentleman has suddenly lost consciousness and vomitted everywhere. I felt obligated, as there was no one else, to go and see if I could assist the man's wife and cousin (found that out later). I reasoned if it were a true emergency, I was competent enough to manage the situation. Or at least help. Put the man in the recovery position, or whatever needed to be done. Fortunately, such measures were unnecessary, as he regained consciousness, was mentally coherent, etc. and the ambulance showed up.
After that bit of excitement, we went back to our cabin, a small two room sort of trailer behind the local grocery store/petrol station/restaurant/hotel. Seriously, it was that kind of a place. Complete with the woman without three teeth working and air that smelled faintly of old grease and tobacco. The kind of place that was depressing in every way, that artists and extreme optimists would say had "character".
Baptiste and I were just glad to have TV (something to do after it got dark outside) and Loriane wanted to do schoolwork, clearly defeating the purpose of vacation. So Baptiste and I watched "I am Sam"; I made it through without crying. How proud are you? And then we crashed for the night, planning to get up and go early the next morning to the ACTUAL Cradle Mountain, then head to Launceston.

I can't upload any of the pics of the Perfect Beach, but I will work on it!
Cheers!

Tassie- Day 1 (finally)

Tasmania
The Wilderness State

Photo disclaimer: I did NOT wear the exact same thing every day. The weather was slightly colder than anticipated, which is why I am always wearing my "jumper" (sweatshirt). I did, in fact, change my clothes.
Background Info:
I decided about a month ago I wanted to travel somewhere during intersession break. I was not particular about Where I wanted to go, the main criteria for determining the location of my travel being the cost of the plane ticket. My friend, Baptiste, is as addicted to traveling as I am, found plane tickets to Hobart, Tasmania, for $138.00 round trip... so I said, "Hell, why not?"
We later invited our friend, Loriane (also French) to accompany us. I think we invited other people to discount the cost of the car (more people=less money for each) and to dispel any awkwardness that may arise from being a single guy traveling with a girl. But anyway. I'm getting off track...

Day 1
Our plane left at an ungodly hour, which is probably why the tickets were so inexpensive. To put it into perspective, i think that any hour before noon can be considered ungodly. Thus, even if the flight was supposed to depart at 11:59 a.m., I would have considered it too early. On the plus side, we decided to fly out early so we could have more time in Tas to explore before flying home. I live an hour outside the city and we had to be at the airport and check in half an hour prior to departure; therefore, I was up at 5:30 a.m. (!!!!) in order to meet Baptiste adn Loriane for the 20 minute walk to the train station at 6:30, catch the train at 7:00, and arrive at the airport at eight, check-in and fly out at 8:40 a.m. So it was a bit of an early morning.
The flight was uneventful. Shocking, I know. You'd expect a two hour flight from Sydney to Hobart to contain something wonderful... but it didn't.
We arrived in Hobart, claimed our luggage and picked up our rental car, a new-ish Hyundai Accent. We would eventually name him Henry and he would become our constant companion and friend. *Sigh* how I miss him!
We drove immediately to Hasting Cave, just south of Hobart. Hastings Cave is one of several large caves located in Tasmania,reputed to among the largest and best in the world. Unfortunately, they failed to impress me. Although the cave formations were beautiful and amazing, the tour was less than stellar. Instead of providing useful information about anything, the woman just walked us up and down slick stairs. I took pictures anyway, like a good tourist.
We drove back to Hobart to find a place to stay. It's been getting dark earlier and earlier, so by 5:30 p.m., we were driving in the dark. I was in the backseat, completely and happily oblivious to what was going on in the front seat. My apathy was spurred along by the fact they were speaking French. Turns out Loriane is not the best at giving directions. Every time I looked out the window, we were on the same street, but I could ahve sworn we'd been driving, making turns, etc. Ah well.
We finally found a hostel. But being so ridiculously tired, we took the room without seeing them first. THIS IS NOT A GOOD IDEA!!!! The Pickled Frog (we didn't get a clue from the name) was a little on the old and dirty side. The floors slanted, the showers were beyond scary (internal shudder.) And we shared a room with three people we didn't know. Not such a big deal, except when someone snores. Loudly. All night.