Tasmania 2023 – the trip down
additions to each stage – keep scrolling down
Day 1 of 30 – Brisbane to Dubbo
As it turns out, the day was over 12 hours driving and nearly 1,00km. An hour and 100km were added due to a flooded creek – beautiful scenery, rising steam off the road, amazing contrast in colour, spectacular but I jump head to the second half of the day.
To start, we are heralded into this lovely Friday with kookaburra announcing the arrive of morning. As we navigate out of the drive way at 5.45am, the sun is rising and the day varies between gloriously sunny, very dark and stormy then radiant after a good dumping of rain. There were some pretty amazing lightning forks as well as we headed through the second half of the day, but again I digress.
Leaving Brisbane, we envy (briefly) those in a balloon, gliding above the Ipswich area, there are flocks of galahs and cockatoos and some corella as well. There are dissembling sheds and buildings, long neglected and returning to nature increment by increment, paling or board by paling or board.
We spy solar farms and wind farms. We sample some lovely fair from Arthur Clive’s Bakery at Aratula, coffee’d up we continue moseying along the highway. Our journey is through numerous “B” roads as we are on the chase for some silo art throughout our trip south. The colours of the gum trees never cease to amaze me – the beautiful greys and greens, olive, and everything in between as well as a yellow/orange. There are many waterholes and much indication of rain as the country seems quite green and lush. This is a good thing as there is minimal road kill but we see numerous turtles crossing the road as we motor along.
There is lots of nothing and everything – fields that have been harvested, grasses that grow wild, cows that munch in seeming bucolic happiness. There is no concept of the direction we are travelling save Google Maps and a little indicator in the car that tells us “S” or “SW” or some other direction in succinct terms. There is kerbing in the middle of nowhere – I don’t know why kerbing and channelling is required around the border of Queensland and New South Wales.
The first cattle grid on this trip arrives at 375km in. The cattle look health and happy. We are driving unfamiliar roads even though I have travelled Brisbane to Cowra numerous times over the years – we didn’t travel these majestic roads which provide a very different view of the country from the national highway which, by comparison, is somewhat boring yet smoother and less distance. It is not just the time but the journey.
We see some lovely silo art at Barraba, Gunnedah, Dunnedoo punctuated by some spectacular storms which precede us, making the river crossings “fun” and the last one a “no go”. There are gravel roads and a game of miss the pothole from time to time. There are beautiful birds flying low across our path or rising from the roadside, spreading their gloriously coloured wings. The Black Stump is exactly as its name suggests and is easily missed if you aren’t looking for the comfort stop where it resides.
We arrive at Dubbo 12.5 hours after we set out. We are weary yet exhilarated for the journey and the adventure. Our room is simple and food and service understated yet very good. We regroup, review photos and plot day 2’s stops – we have more silo art to see before we get to the NSW/Victoria border on day 2. For now, we are hydrated, fed and ready for bed.
Day 2 – Dubbo to Albury
The morning is spectacular yet is quickly taken over with a real contrast of dark and foreboding as against sunny and bright. The weather is finicky, fussy and flaky today, varying from simply overcast to dark and ready to dump to already dumped rain to showers and rain. The sun plays peekaboo often today and the wind decides it needs to play chase.
This is drier country although looking around, there has been a lot of rain, the ground is damp and soggy in places, and there is plenty of water roadside. The fields have been harvested of their wheat or other crops and the sheep mooch about, watching the passing parade, eating or scattering at the sound of vehicles.
There is a tiny neglected church with red framed windows. There are other small churches in the middle of large spaces, which makes me wonder how long it took people to get there in the days when there was horse and buggy as they are, even now as ruins, significant distances from anywhere of substance.
The towns are old and established but many were deluged with huge amounts of water in late 2022, the evidence for which still abounds. We mosey through Molong then to Eugowra where I joke about mobile homes but there are many caravans in yards which suggest that people are still not able to live in their home or many people simply have caravans, not sure which. There are old crumbling sheds of iron and fences with much debris still on them from where the river has rushed through taking everything in its path, save for the grass that remains on the barbed wire fence.
The vistas are majestic and spread for seemingly ever. I wonder what made the early pioneers decide that this was good country to put a track through then a horse and carriage route then a road, and building the roads is a whole other escapade which requires serious focus and attention. I wonder how the early pioneers really did manage the loneliness and desolation of such locations. We see many a creek line, recognisable by the trees which line banks in some places or the general vegetation in others. We move through cherry country where the boulders are scattered across the hills like someone huge had a handful of gravel and strew it everywhere, tossing it without regard. There is a delightful street library on the highway at a location which is close to some sort of processing plant.
It is the season for moulting trees but they are not quite ready to be rid of their summer suit – there is still a little time and much colder weather before the true colours of autumn start to show and the leaves to drift solely to the ground to mulch for the next season. This country gets seriously hot and ridiculously cold.
There are some massively long, and so straight roads, that go on forever, or so it seems. Then there are the windy range roads that slow down the passage of travel. Today is a shorter day both in physical distance and time. It is a day of a few more silos/water towers and a day of more “wow” in terms of the artwork but also nature’s work and man’s sculpting of fields. It is a time of lights on road work for the first time in the trip, some more dirt roads and another layer or two on the already highlighted formerly white chariot taking us through this countryside.
We see Captain Morgan’s hideout, ideal in its location looking in all directions from massive boulders. We see nature’s art – providing a watering hole and shelter when scoping the countryside although it may not have been anywhere near as cleared then as it is now.
The evening is rounded out with a fuel stop for the car then for the humans as they recalibrate, re-hydrate and then sink into oblivion for a few hours of rest and recovery before they do it all again tomorrow with some more silos and street art before boarding a ferry to the location of our destination. We have travelled more than the length of the northern most tip of Scotland to the southern most tip of England, in these 2 days so far. 636km today – not the most direct route but how else do you see some of this amazing country. Tomorrow is a new day, with more travel and awe in it.
Day 3 – Albury to Geelong
As I write this, we are having a cabin picnic in cabin 7203 on Spirit of Tasmania II – a four bunk “inside” cabin where we get to stare at each other across the room. We have a delightful bottle of Clover Hill Tasmanian Cuvee (for research purposes) and some cheeses from a little pack we bought on board because we left the other bits and pieces in the fridge in the car (but remembered the crackers and chocolate from the Easter Bunny).
We were on road at the delightful hour of 7.10am this fabulous Easter Sunday morning, leaving Albury heading for Geelong and the Spirit of Tasmania. We have travelled the scenic route and we did not change this today with some gorgeous B and C roads forming our route. We started the day by passing by the first home I ever resided in, in Albury – I was an Army “brat”, although I am not sure my parents would appreciate that categorisation, at least not all of the time. You see my Dad was in the Army at the time I was born in Albury and my sister in the city of Wodonga. Moving on….
We move through the countryside and find ourselves in the beautiful grape region. There is a town called “Howlong” – kind of apt really as you mosey through these backroads. Our breakfast stop is at Rutherglen – the bike at the front caught our attention so it was time for a BLT and coffee after a very quick scout through the bike museum – absolutely gorgeous. It is a “we need to return here stop”.
As we journey through the countryside, we decide that there are haphazard haystacks and then there are industrial sized hay bales, the size of a “smart” car – the bales are huge! The stacking of them is an art on its own. The haphazard stack is the dysfunctional stack and then there is the splat – we saw one of those, it is the pile that is kind of left after the formerly tidy stack kind of faints into the earth.
We drive through areas which seem to host cycling events. The country is appropriate, kind of flat. We pass a feed lot – a huge set up seen from some distance away. Our first stop for silo art is Tungamah then St James. The day is cold and wintry and definitely one for jeans, jacket and closed shoes. We then move on to Benalla and look at a very small portion of the street art – as with the silos, there are some very talented people out there. I am in awe of how the silo art has been executed.
The towns are old and the cottages delightful to this city kid. We move through Shepparton, the home of SPC and Ardmona. A couple of times now, in bushfire country, we have seen spots marked with “place of last resort” – I find this so sad. The country is so beautiful but so full of fuel in the eucalyptus trees. Moving on we pass through Hopetoun and the Avenue of Honour – beautiful trees (probably over 100 years old) which have a walk beside them; then on to Geelong.
We have passed through many avenues of trees today. We have looked for miles from our spot, moving through the country at about 100kph. We have had fussy finicky weather which cannot seem to make up its mind and we hear there has been snow in the Snowy Mountains. It’s a cold miserable feel today. It is also a jacket kind of day over our jumpers – a balmy 11 degrees, at times, with a lazy wind that decides to charge right through you. We are awed by the truly amazing talent of the artworks we see. We respect the engineering that creates the roads then the vessel we are sailing on as I write this piece. The trip is no longer surreal, I have now settled into the travel which will change tempo again on Day 4 when we arrive in Devonport and start our next adventure in Tasmania. I still marvel at the pioneers who opened up this country, the bushrangers who stirred up the constabulary and those who direct the traffic as we board the Spirit of Tasmania. I think we get complacent in our own little worlds – especially if we do not step outside and challenge what we always do. The drive down has been long yet scenic, which is what we set out to do. We wanted to see the art works. We did. We wanted to drive – we have. We decided to sail across Bass Strait at night and yes, we are doing that. We have spoken to people on the way and will speak to many more, there are so many interesting stories out there. I am not always a “people” person but there are times, like when you are standing gobsmacked at someone’s artwork, when you talk with people who share your sentiments. It has been a fabulous way to travel through this country – 2175km from Brisbane to boarding at Geelong. Stay tuned for the next adventure – that which we set out on this trip to do, i.e. Tasmania.
