2019 has started out on a strong foot here down south. While we get seemingly endless reports of polar vortexes and back-to-back storms from home, Meredith and I are hiding out down here soaking up the dog days of summer. I’d say we’re officially in the transient life sweet spot as well. We’ve been in Hobart just long enough to be really established at work, have built a solid crew of friends, and still have plenty of local sights on our Tassie bucket list. It’s been a great way to ring in the new year.
Many of you know that Meredith actually headed back to Colorado over the holidays leaving me to fend for myself over New Year’s Eve. Luckily there was a tip-top event in town to keep me entertained, The Marion Bay Falls Festival. We’d heard whisperings about Falls almost as soon as we arrived in town, and as the lineup was released it quickly jumped to the top of my list for NYE to-dos.
It’s been a long running event, taking over rolling, grassy paddocks about an hour north of Hobart. The stages are tucked down amongst the hills affording sweeping views out over the idyllic beaches of Marion Bay. For refreshment between sweaty days of dancing revelers make their way down to the beach for a dip in some of Tassie’s clearest waters, while during the day, cool sea breezes sweep through the venue warding of the stinking heat associated with so many summer events. Not a bad way to see a little music. Oh and what music it was; I caught some acts who’ve long been on my to-see list (Flight Facilities, Touch Sensitive), was blown away by some Aussie acts I’d barely heard of before (Jack River, Golden Features, and Cub Sport), threw it back with the old boys from Toto, caught up with some old favorites (Cut Copy and Cashmere Cat), and saw some seriously huge international acts as well (Anderson .Paak, Interpol, and Hilltop Hoods). It was a busy couple of days to ring in the new year without a doubt.
One down side about these bright, sunny Tasmanian days, wildfires. Towards the end of January dry conditions had prompted 28 separate bush fires to flare up in various parts of the state, including some quite close to home filling the Derwent valley with smoke for days at a time. While by and large day-to-day operations continue as normal under the veil of smoke, it does lend things a bit of an apocalyptic feel (be they everyday rides to work, or trips to the local bike park at Maydena- see pics above). It seemed a great opportunity to head seaward and escape the gloom. Luckily, a nearby attraction provided just such a destination, Bruny Island.
Bruny’s a large, sparsely-populated island that stretches nearly from Hobart down to just about the southern tip of Tas. It’s known for unspoiled nature, surf, and some fine farm-to-table culinary offerings. Naturally such a place was a must hit for us, so we loaded up Dolores and caught the ferry on over. First stop, the neck. A tourist trap if there ever was one. This whisp of land connects the two larger parts of the island but allows for an iconic photo op down its thin length (see above), fortunately we were able to catch it just at sunset and without another soul in sight. The next morning we headed further south to hike the dolorite spires of Fluted Cape, before finally heading to the southern tip and the seclusion of cloudy bay. Cloudy threw into sharp relief my still amateurish surfing abilities; while surf at the neck was no good, cloudy provided some waves way above my pay grade. So Mere and I opted to hang ashore to watch some more experienced guys get pounded by the southerly swell and enjoy ourselves a classic beach day.
The next morning Cloudy Bay proved true to its name, but not with the clouds we’d expected. It seems we hadn’t gone far enough to escape the reach of the smoke. But we feared not for the highlight of the trip was yet to come and had nothing to with outdoor explorations, the Bruny Island Cheese & Beer Company. This bastion of locavore provenance was established by a brewer and a cheese maker a couple of years back to make use of the beautiful ingredients available right there on Bruny. Success has bred success, and today the company owns a lovely complex mid-island where visitors of all sorts sit in their natural gardens nippling cheese, sipping ale, and discussing the virtues of the under-appreciated pairing of cheese and beer. A most agreeable way to pass a smoky day on Bruny, I say.
Our current transient life sweet spot was shown in all its glory last week, when my dreams of doing another cycling wine tour took on a life of their own. All thanks to the great crew of friends we’ve cultivated down here. Just across the river lies one of Tassie’s most condensed wine regions in Coal River Valley, and I started dreaming of riding its length to sample all the wines along the way. Well our friends got wind of this, and what hatched wound up looking a lot more like the brewery tour monstrosities I’ve organized in Denver than the low-key wine tour Mere and I enjoyed in Marlborough. But that’s the beauty of staying long enough to cultivate a solid crew, they help make good days great.
Oh, and what a beaut it turned out to be. Ten of us saddled up in the small town of Richmond on a sunny Saturday morning and began our pedal south along the valley. The route would take us 15k through 5 vineyards from some of Tassie’s largest and most well-heeled (Frogmore Creek won best cellar door), to arguably the smallest vineyard and winery on the planet (Everyman and His Dog winery, run by a retired couple, who definitely took the most-lovable award). As the day unfolded it became a better and better representation of our time in Tasmania thus far, great days in great places made unforgettable by the friends we’ve made along the way.