The flight over is uneventful. We are soaring in the dark and it's a beautiful sight coming into Melbourne. I look out the window and see the stars and the moon at 5am - and by 6am daylight is coming. I can see the outline of the suburbs below. Twinkling lights in a grid pattern - just like a Christmas tree. I try to get into a toilet at the end of the aisle and find I'm rattling the door to a closet. The lovely hostess sets me right. Oops!
As close as we got to Melbourne. The street outside the airport.
We set down and head into the terminal. It's buzzing here at Melbourne airport even at this early hour. Chris and I share an average rubbery breakfast of scrambled eggs, mushrooms, tomato and toast with hot coffee. We finish up and sit in the lounge area for the rest of the time reading the local paper and just zoning out. Our stopover is two and a half hours before our connecting flight.
The next plane taking us from Melbourne to Hobart (the capital city of Tasmania) is small and cramped. We get ourselves settled for the next leg and that's where we stay. An hour later we are still on the ground. There is a malfunction in the cockpit - a small light is not working. We sit around for a while before we are all herded off the plane again. Another hour of waiting then we are finally ready to set off again about 11am. I'm anxious to get moving. We were supposed to pick our motor home over an hour ago and this is wasting time! A whole hour of our first holiday away together gone. Argh!
Forty five minutes later we land in Hobart. My first impression as we move into the car park to pick up the van we have hired, bags trundling behind us, is that the mountains in the distance remind me of Westie, NSW, a place we visited in Sydney when my oldest son was just a toddler (and my last plane trip out of the state where I live.)
The 2/3 berth Winnebago we hired for the 12 days - compact yet comfy.
We are handed the keys to the motorhome with instructions from Tina who is the representative from the car hire company. She is lovely and chatty. As we arc up the motor we hear this awful noise - a warning signal of some kind followed by a loud thunk.
We think.. shoot, we've broken the Winnebago already?? Tina pops her head up on my side of the van - grinning yet sheepish. "You left the step down on the van. I just set it right." Whew!
We head out of Hobart and drive to the nearest caravan park - trying to sort where we plan on staying for the night. I'm not keen on this particular one so after looking at the map we decide to wend our way through Hobart and find something else.
We pass over a VERY scary bridge as we go into Hobart. Traffic is five lanes: three hurtling towards us... two moving into the city. There's no dividers which we find a little intimidating and the stoplights are suspended overhead, something we only find out as we drive an unfamiliar car in an unfamiliar part of the country.
As we move through Hobart we find it overwhelming. Probably tiredness catching up but it's good to know it isn't just me. Chris feels the same way. Hobart is much much bigger than I first thought - modern mixed with old. As we pass through we see Salamanca and make a note to go back. The Salamanca markets happen once a week in Hobart and I definitely want to make it a place we visit. There are mountains everywhere. We are surrounded by them. Cliff faces with steep drops as you pass by on the road.
We end up at Kingston Beach (after missing the turn off to Glenorchy.) It's a bit confusing trying to find our way around. We muddle through and find a gorgeous little bay where we stop for coffee and buy the most delicious fresh hot chips. Chris goes to rest for a little inside the van and I sit writing this journal as I face the calm waters. It's cool but not cold and the sun is trying to break though the clouds. It's spring here in Tasmania and I hear on the radio it's 17 degrees.
Kingston - our first pitstop for coffee and food
Amazing. Here we are. After months of planning and all the stress to get out out the front door and onto the plane, we have made it. Tasmania. My heart is full.
We are still looking for a caravan park to stay the night because we need to charge the van batteries for the fridge etc. We also want to find a food shop (and maybe a bottle shop) and stock up on supplies. We've had perhaps 2 hours sleep in 24 and we are both feeling a little shell-shocked. We agree we both want to get settled for the night and quickly.
That said, it's the most incredible feeling being here on our own. No one to look after but us. We can do what we want, when we want - that is if we manage to stay awake long enough. It's a very strange almost unsettling feeling. I keep looking behind me to see what's missing. Of course, it's the kids. We are kid free for the first time in many, many years. And we plan on savoring every single moment.
As we sit on a bench overlooking the water finishing our coffee, we have another look at the street directory. I think we might need to find a place that sells better maps. The map book keeps saying end of page and it's not helping us figure out where one road goes and another one ends.
We push off and head south. We plan on going to Snug, a little place further down the coast. We will pass through Margate to get there.
As we move through Snug to our first nights stay I think it's just lovely. Tiny but pretty.
We book in after a quick chat with the friendly lady behind the counter, find our spot in the park, hook up the van to the power and water and Chris collapses on the bed to fall sleep at 5.30pm. I last two hours more. Night Tassie.
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