national park Archives - Page 3 of 4

Travel

A CAMPSITE BY A LAKE

October 9, 2012 No Comments

Walking around the lake, driftwood and leafless shrubs

Stones around Lake St Clair, rounded by the swirling waters

Clouds of fog reflected in Lake St Clair, Tasmania

Dylan looking for fish and platypus in Lake St Clair

Banksia seed cone, Lake St Clair, Tasmania

Sweet little Paddymelon near the Lake St Clair campground

Strange fungus, lichen, growing on tree trunks

Dylan fishing in the river, Lake St Clair

Dylan under the bridge over the river at Lake St Clair, Tasmania

Deciduous beech tree by the river, the only deciduous Australian tree

Edible Pink Mountain Berries are bush tucker in Tasmania

We’re back from a beautiful spring holiday in Tasmania and there is so much to tell you, I’m quite overwhelmed by how many posts I have planned and how many photos I have to wade through! I have so much to tell you!

We worked to a deadline, and then in a flurry of papers bid a cheery sayonara to our colleagues and took off to meet the Spirit of Tasmania. As we hummed and whirred across the Strait the nautical novelty began wore off and we bundled ourselves upstairs with the ghosts. We just had to escape the layer of modern tackiness of poker machines and overpriced, greasy food. The way up to the top deck is hidden away and only a dozen people out of hundreds found their way up there. The little empty stage and wooden benches were from another era, the flickering soundless TVs adding to the forsaken feel.

The water raged against the ship, cold, dark and scary until morning.

The sun rose behind grey skies and we drove and drove, away from the city, past farms and tree stumps, to a wild and windswept campsite by Lake St Clair, walking distance from a not so wild cultural centre with all the amenities one could wish. Darling Paddymelons were our neighbours, so fat and furry, and cute cute cute. A baby quoll ran across our path by torch light as the fire in the hut crackled. Tomorrow would be an epic bush walk…

Travel

SEEKING SUNSET, SOUGHT BY SOUNDS

April 30, 2012 No Comments

On whim we packed a picnic and hit the highway to get to the Organ Pipes National Park before the sunset. Once we had descended down to the valley floor, we were careful not to walk too far in any direction lest the fantasy of being miles away from the city be broken.

Our study of the curious hexagonal basalt columns was interrupted by a rumble, first one low flying plane and then another and another, oh well we could incorporate that into the daydream, planes searching for lost adventurers, or perhaps something more sinister…then there was a faint whine, we looked around, it was getting louder and more insistent. Hmmm…when it comes to dreams of isolation the Calder Park Motorway is a bit harder to dismiss, but the ants seemed nonplused gathering crumbs we had carelessly shed from our veggie burgers. A kangaroo chomping on grass nearby shrugged his nonchalance at his neighbours over the road. The lovers by the river seemed more concerned by our sudden appearance than any flight path, we left them to it.

Shadows began sliding into the valley, over the cliff as we wondered when the frozen rock worm within would awaken and complete its churning motion exploding out of the cliff face all teeth and malice. I packed my overactive imagination back in its case as orange sunlight licked our backs goodbye and then was gone. We made our way up and out, through the deserted car park and back towards the city lights.

Travel

AN OBSESSION IS AWAKENED

April 4, 2012 1 Comment

Descending down to Kennett River, the Otways

As I sat daydreaming on a fallen log, dangling legs over rushing water, hours passed and the warm light faded and cooled. Little did I know that somewhere upstream those same rippling waters were casting a spell on my boyfriend and from that day onwards he would be a fly fisherman.

Travel

THE OCEAN CRASHES ONTO THE ADVENTUROUS

March 24, 2012 No Comments

Crashing waves, the Twelve Apostles, Port Campbell National Park

Tourists tend to stick together, sometimes it’s hard to appreciate something when there are so many people trying so hard to do the same on all sides. We made a plan to return to the Twelve Apostles on a day that was not sun drenched Summer.

If you just venture a little to the west and down there are wilder adventures for those who leave the guide rail behind, past the Thunder Cave and onto the rocks. As we approached our fellow wanders they were frozen on the horizon in the act of a guilty holiday pleasure. They counted down the seconds until the wave crashed onto the rocks as he stood posed on an imaginary surfboard, the ocean had other things in mind, drenching them, squeals and all, washing away their hopes for a novelty holiday photo. Tourists can be determined though and we all rushed onto the cliff edge with renewed vigor to stand in various bizarre poses, playing chicken with the surf.