“Smile & Wave Boys”
Wanting to hit the road early, we left Launceston in a flurry, packing up and aiming to leave no trace behind. I was today’s chain-dragger (there’s always one) as we were escorted out of town by our driver Molly, past the curious blue tree, bound for the picturesque north-west corner of Van Diemen’s Land.
About 20 minutes from Launceston, is the World Heritage listed convict farm village, Brickenden Estate. We’d checked the website and it looked fantastic; an authentic, rural Tasmanian version of Old Sydney Town. A hedge-lined driveway provided a grand entrance to the estate. Rolling up to the carpark - the first car there - we were excited to have beaten the crowds, gathering backpacks, drink bottles and cameras as we bundled out, locked the car and set out for our adventure. An adventure that lasted only until we reached the front gate and noticed the informative sign that dangled upon it that read: CLOSED.
It was a shame that as we’d looked at the website we…er, I…hadn’t thought to peruse the vital information relating to hours of operation. There was a pen of sheep to see but even they seemed closed for business, their muzzles nuzzling the grass, refusing to look up for a photo.
After a quick look at the board out the front telling us what we were missing (it did have photos so that was something) we watched as another car entered the carpark. Out popped a small group of people dressed from head to toe in period costumes from the turn of the century. A parasoled lady fixed her partner’s tie and they primped and patted until they completely looked the part. As they approached our car, I complimented their stellar costumes and enquired if they were filming something special today. The young lady said they had merely dressed for the occasion of visiting the estate because they simply loved history. Oh dear. I swear we could hear their hearts break as we drove out, not bearing to see their expressions when they had their own confrontation with the CLOSED sign.
Sam was our DJ today, so our drive had a distinctly poppy vibe - a contrast to the hay bales and ads for truck and ute shows and signs announcing: “Drowsy drivers die”, as we sped through the Tasmanian countryside. Slim Dusty may have been more appropriate.
We were on the Cradle to Coast Tasting Trail, a self-drive trail you can download that gives you a map and guides you to a number of local providores, nestled in the countryside, that you’d otherwise miss. We followed the trail to the Ashgrove Cheese dairy door where the award-winning (champion in the 2023 grand dairy awards no less) family-owned dairy has been milking cows in this pocket of Tassie for over 100 years. Ross, Sam and Maisy decided they couldn’t go past some mouth-watering cheesecake while Molly and I stuck with a traditional cheese-tasting. Toby, not a huge cheese fan (unless it’s on a pizza) decided to sit this one out.
Latrobe had been recommended to us as a good stop, though we couldn’t see why. We drove around the streets, Including up Memory Lane, past the hospital and the combined car/dog wash (ingenious) and before we knew it we were passing the “Thank you for visiting Latrobe” sign.
One thing we’ve established here is that Tasmanians love Tasmania. This patriotic lot will regale you with tales of towns and stories of spots you “must-see” before leaving and once you get them started, it’s hard to get away. If we lingered to talk to every Tassie-loving resident and if we visited every town that was recommended to us, we’d be here for at least 10 years.
Driving briefly through Davenport - just long enough to get Tobes some Maccas drive through - we noticed it seemed much more bustling than Launceston.
It was so cool to drive along beside the Bass Strait. Ross said if he squinted he could see the mainland. I saw a playground and commented that it looked a bit boring, with only one thing to climb. Turns out it was actually a sculpture.
The orange and white striped Mersey Bluff Lighthouse was fun for a quick look and we popped into a beautiful little beach: Boat Harbour. It was blowing a gale but Sam and Molly braved a swim in the surf.
We loved the quirky country town of Penguin, where they had totally embraced their name and had all manner of things penguin, everywhere you looked. The bins, the street bollards, the shop names…it was a penguin paradise. The family was split on what we felt like for lunch so, careful to avoid the ominous sounding Flaming Penguin Pie, offered at the Penguin Bakery, Molly & I ate at the trendy little Penguin Pantry while the rest of the family chowed down at the home of Penguin Beer. True to Tasmanian form, Ruby, our lovely, friendly waitress, gave us lots of tips for places to visit, even going the extra mile of writing us some notes. Another friendly local took 21 photos of us in front of the big penguin statue.
Above and beyond.
I was trying to send Sam a copy of the Penguin Pantry menu but inadvertently texted it to my brother Ben who’s holidaying in India right now. He commented that though it looked good, it was sadly lacking a goat curry.
The blustery conditions were not ideal for my short dress today and as we walked along the Penguin footpath, it blew up around my armpits, flashing my undies to the group of people walking closely behind us. As I madly tried to gain control of my soaring hemline, their muffled giggles betrayed their assurance that I need not worry, they hadn’t seen a thing.
We ploughed on, through the area known as the Central Coast, between Devonport and Burnie, through the towns of Cooee and Hellyer (hell yeah) and past the famous Cadbury factory. We were all excited to finally sight “The Nut” as we rounded the bend into Stanley. While only boasting a population of 595 people, Stanley is tiny but its headland is not. The Nut, as it’s affectionately called, soars into the sky and can be seen for miles around. We have a brilliant view of it from our accommodation.
Stanley’s other claim to fame, is its booming penguin population and having missed them altogether in Bicheno, we were determined to finally lay our peepers on some black and white feathers. The hotel provided us with penguin-friendly red torches and after dinner, we cut a path to the purpose-built viewing platform and held our breath for the little guys to arrive. Soon enough, they started their ascent up the beach and even though we’ve seen penguins at the zoo many times, there was something really special about seeing them in the wild, their little black and white bodies dotting the sand as they waddled into view. They were SO cute!! As they scrambled up the rocks, with only their flippered feet for balance, they face-planted and toppled on their tummies, making their way from the sea; holding out their adorable tiny wings to dry off. There was a long line marching in order, each one waiting patiently for his buddy in front to move on. It was just so cool to witness. Looking up at the crowd of patient, penguin-loving enthusiasts, they so reminded us of the penguins in Madagascar…”just smile and wave boys!”
