Rock The Cradle
Separated from the mainland by the Bass Strait, “Tassie” (note for Americans, pronounced “Tazzie”) has the second oldest capital in Australia. While the island was originally sighted by Dutchman Abel Tasman and named Van Diemen’s Land, it was the Brits who created the first European settlement on the island. It was called Hobart Town in 1803—now known simply as Hobart. As the original settlers to the island were mainly convicts and guards, Tasmania’s early roots were brutal. I’ve written about the infamous Port Arthur penal colony, but there were several others established on the island as well. Original structures from the English settlers still stand in Hobart, but today the city has a thriving gourmet food and arts scene along with successful fisheries of all varieties—but I will have to save my rave reviews for the capital for another day.
Outside of the two main cities, Hobart in the south and Launceston in the north, lies a staggering abundance of natural beauty. In nearly any direction you choose, Mother Nature will be there to blow your mind. For us, the destination was northeast through Lake Saint Clair National Park to Cradle Mountain Wilderness Village where we would spend four days exploring. Though I wasn’t brave enough to take on the 6-day wilderness trek known as the Overland Track, Cradle Mountain held plenty of adventure for my husband and I. Waterfalls, hiking trails, and wildflowers were more than sufficient to hold my attention. Throw in the rugged rocky terrain and glacial lakes and we have ourselves a winner.
What we did not anticipate, as we had yet to learn that the whole of Australia goes on holiday during Christmas and New Year’s Day, was the crowds of people who would be joining us on these mountain trails. For that reason, I was very pleased with the stand-alone cottage we booked in the Wilderness Village. Though the place was fully booked, there was no noise at night besides a very ornery Tasmanian devil and a few perturbed possums. This I could handle.
To limit the extent of damage to the environment by the masses who pilgrimage to this mecca of natural wonder, the parks service has introduced a bus service to carry hikers and tourists into the park. Cars are not allowed to enter. As these buses swing by numbered stops every fifteen minutes or so, it’s a very convenient way to go. Dropping by the information centre, the friendly guy at the counter gave me a tip. “Get off at the first stop and walk the trail in reverse. Everyone else will ride until the end and get off at the beginning of the trail to start at the same time.” Ben, you are still my hero.
We left the crowds behind on the bus and made straight for the trails. It was here that I saw my first wombat in the wild. Two important things to know about wombats. First, if you clicked on the link you already know that they are ridiculously adorable. Not smart, I understand, but adorable. As such, you may delay your hike considerably upon spotting one because the camera will simply have to come out. Second, their poop is square. I know what you’re thinking, “Mother Nature, you crazy woman—what the hell?” Apparently, they use these little bricks to mark their territory on top of rocks. Because they are square, it doesn’t roll away. Yes, seriously.
But enough about wombats, the place is gorgeous. Even in mid-summer, you can expect some fairly wild weather in Tassie and we were blessed with the perfect hiking temperatures—the kind where you can wear a jacket, jeans, and long sleeves and feel perfectly comfy climbing some steep rocky trails. At the summit of Cradle Mountain, I overheard a guy remark, “It’ll keep the snakes away at least.” That opened my eyes a bit. I’d gotten used to them in Queensland, mainly because you rarely seem then and I’d taken that for granted here too. “Nothing to see here folks… just keep walking,” said the voice in my head and so I did.
Thousands of photographs and miles later, we reached the end of the trail at the base of Cradle Mountain. If you haven’t Googled the place yet, do it now. I’ll wait… Though I have many, many beautiful photos of the mountain that takes its name from its cradle-like shape and the iridescent sapphire lake before it, I am not a professional photographer. For many of them, this is a favorite spot—in fact I think they were all gathered at the base of the lake elbowing each other out of the way to get the best shot. For a minute it was mildly entertaining to watch the pissing match before we moved on.
Midway through the morning, the sun made her grand entrance. She lit up the lakes to a crystal blue and created flares of the pink wildflowers along the Lake Saint Clair shoreline. Every step was worth it. That is until I nearly stepped on a Tiger snake who had come out to sun himself. (Note for Non-Aussies: Tiger snakes are baddies.) You do not want mistaking your toe for a foe if you know what I mean. The sun had indeed brought them out and several more slithered by in our last hour at the park. Regardless of the temperature, hiking boots, jeans, and thick socks are without a doubt the way to go.
As we rejoined the masses and waited in the long bus line, I was pleasantly worn out and grateful someone else was driving. Even better was the giant spa tub in our cottage that welcomed our weary bones home. With a little preparation and an advance booking in high summer, Lake Saint Clair National Park and Cradle Mountain offer some of the most spectacular views Tasmania has to offer. I would keep an eye out for square poop, however. Even if the Tiger snakes don’t make your acquaintance, that doesn’t mean you aren’t in serious danger of a serious overload of cuteness.
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