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| 'Charlie' Boorman got a beer at the Pub in the Paddock |
The Tasman Highway was an easy ride. The road, like most in Tasmania, was in great condition, winding its way through ancient eucalypt forests and picturesque farm lands. In no time we were in St Helens, I was still struggling to get my head around how close everything is in Tasmania.
The largest town on the north-east coast of Tasmania, St Helens is a Mecca for tourists of all sorts, especially those interested in fishing and seafood, apparently the surfing is good too. On this occasion it was just a quick stop for us as we ventured a little further north, a chance to see one of the most unique coastlines that I have seen for a while.
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| A beach on fire ... Vibrant colours of the Bay of Fires |
The sand was so fine, so white. It didn’t look real. It squeaked when walked on. I had no doubt that this was where the sand for hour glasses was sourced. Contrasting against the brilliant white was the richest orange. The rocks protruding from the sand looked ablaze. I looked south and was stunned to see the whole coast on fire. We made a decision to return south and explore the brilliant site.
What we had found was essentially the middle point of the Bay of Fires, or Larapuna in the local indigenous language. The most amazing oranges and reds framed by the brilliant white sand, it stretched for miles to Binalong Bay in the south and Eddystone Point in the north.
Viewed from out in the perfect blue waters of the bay it would be easy to see why the area had been named the Bay of Fires however, I quickly learnt that it was named in 1773 by Tobias Furneaux in the ship Adventure who apparently saw the coastline dotted by fires set by the local Aboriginal people. I couldn’t help but think had he actually mistaken the orange stones for fires.
The stones, of all sizes, that line the beaches are granite and in fact get their brilliant orange colour from the lichen that adorns them. There were tourists here but not enough to be annoying, it felt remote, secluded, and inviting – had the weather been a little warmer I would’ve stripped out of my sweaty adventure gear and gone for a dip in the turquoise waters. I wanted to pitch the tent in one of the many beachside areas set aside for camping. Impossible! They were all taken.
We continued south to Binalong Bay. A photographers dream, this small coastal town was voted by Lonely Planet in 2008 as the number one global holiday destination. I could see why, yet it wasn’t spoilt by over development or tourism, in fact I felt that it was very similar to the Town of 1770 in Queensland. I felt I’d like to spend my last days in a place like this.
Completing a loop of the town we decided we would head further south. We again passed through St Helens and joined back on to the coast road. I’d been warned that while it was quite a good ride there wasn’t a lot to look at. Rubbish! As with all coastal roads you need to know what to look for, enjoy the natural beauty, the history. There was plenty to see here, at times too much to take in.
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| Iron Horse Brewery ... great beers! |
Passing through a small settlement called Four Mile Creek we were soon upon an impressive, modern looking building in the middle of fields. I slowed to get a better look and was almost knocked off my bike by the most beautiful of billboards. Iron Horse Brewery. Beer! Just what the mid-afternoon was calling for. We pulled in. I was off my bike and through the doors in no time. The place came as a shock. It didn’t feel like a brewery. Sterile and lacking atmosphere. Thankfully the tasting paddle was just what was needed, and the beers on sample were all of the highest quality. I was able to cram a six pack into one of my panniers.
Back on the road we were determined to make it to Bicheno, the so called jewel of the east coast, to see the Tasmanian Devils. We were in luck, we were able to join a night time feeding session of these endangered marsupials, but before that we had bikes to see … and lots of them.
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| $80,000 bike ... |
The Bicheno Motorcycle Museum is considered one of Australia’s best. A private collection of over 50 bikes of all eras, styles and makes. This is a great collection. Walking through the door I stood in stunned silence as a HRD Vincent was the first bike on display - $80,000 worth and just sitting there, unbelievable.
Dinner was had at Pisini’s Italian Restaurant. My god, did we eat. The food was brilliant and service was great. That was the amazing thing about Bicheno. It’s a tiny town yet has worked well to cater to the tourists, plenty of restaurants and bars, and a great atmosphere.
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| Got to love the Italian style ... Bicheno bike museum |
Filled to brim with great food we waited for the tourist bus to pick us up and take us to the ‘secret’ location where the Tasmania Devils are fed. Although in the dark it was an enjoyable 30 minute drive. A family of Americans were amazed that we were riding motorbikes around the island; they were even more amazed when we told them this was a short ride. We all laughed when one of them spotted a small kangaroo by the roadside and we told them that the things often jump straight out at you – it makes riding a bike a little more exciting.
We soon arrived at the location designated by Devils In The Dark. Night provides an opportunity to see the carnivorous marsupials feeding in their natural habitat, the humans enjoyed wine and cheese. It was a chance to learn about them and the issues that could force them into extinction. Many think of the Tassie Devil as the crazy Looney Tunes character spinning wildly into the scene yet they face a very serious problem of facial tumours that are threatening their very being. A number of Tasmanian institutions are trying to combat the problem through isolation and genetics, Devils In The Dark is one such organisation doing a great job.
The following morning started early. The plan was to get to the Freycinet National Park and walk some of the wilderness trails. We were early, in fact early enough to be the first people there. It didn’t help, we went the wrong way, headed down the western side of the peninsula, at this time of the morning it didn’t matter, later in the day it would be murderous.
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| Devilish little characters |
The experience ended after a few hours. I felt humbled; to see these noisy little creatures at their best and knowing that my little time with them might help them survive. It was gratifying. Touristy, yes! Important, very much so!
The following morning started early. The plan was to get to the Freycinet National Park and walk some of the wilderness trails. We were early, in fact early enough to be the first people there. It didn’t help, we went the wrong way, headed down the western side of the peninsula, at this time of the morning it didn’t matter, later in the day it would be murderous.
We headed off, with some good sense to ditch all of the riding gear, although Kevlar jeans did make it for a hot walk. Fourteen kilometres of climbing and scrambling was great and the scenery amazing. It became apparent quite early that this was still a tourist walk, and littered with all sorts of human waste – the amount of dumped tissues and toilet paper was appalling. I was told it was a cultural thing. We kept up a cracking pace and after around 2 hours found ourselves crossing the thin neck of the peninsula towards the east. In this small area there had already been so many scenery changes brought on by the varying landscape and environments – everything from rugged cliffs, to lush rainforest, sandy beaches, swampland and even an area that looked like it was from a nuclear holocaust – obviously a fierce storm had been through here.
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| Wine Glass Bay, without the tourists |
The eastern side revealed the ‘magnificence’ of Wine Glass Bay. Often said to be one of the world’s most beautiful and ideal beaches, I was underwhelmed, perhaps jaded by the now hundreds of tourists that were spoiling the natural beauty. The climb up and over the mountain that protects the beach was torturous, yet rewarding, especially when a friendly little wallaby came over to look at our bikes at the end of it.
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| You can never have enough seafood |
We continued on around Coles Bay. I knew there were oyster farms around here yet what appeared next was pure joy. Freycinet Marine Farm. As much fresh seafood as you can image. It didn’t matter that I’m allergic to crustaceans there was plenty of everything else. We sat with a couple from Tasmania while eating oysters, mussels and drinking beer. Heaven! The couple were envious of what we were doing and pointed out a few things that were ‘musts’.
Venturing around Moulting Lagoon we were soon heading south again. No real plans of where to stay, mindful that it was getting late. I was happy to pitch the tent in the wilderness, it didn’t happen. Heading towards the village of Orford we came across one of the ‘must’ sees, the Spiky Bridge.
The bridge used to be a part of the main road, now it sits adjacent, almost looking ridiculous as it appears to be in the middle of a paddock. Built in 1843 by convicts, no one can really explain why it has spikes built into it. The entire main span of the bridge is mortar free, constructed from field stones laid on top of each other in much the same way that drystone walls are built. The spikes too are field stones that have been placed upright into mortar on the parapets. It’s believed that the spikes are there to prevent cattle from walking over the edge, no one can confirm this, and it does seem a little farfetched. The uniqueness of the bridge is reason enough to stop and have a look.
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| Spiky Bridge |
Orford, just another 50km down the road was a welcome site, by now we were becoming exhausted. With a population of just over 500 accommodation was limited, we plumped for a 1960’s looking motel adjoining the pub. At least the walk home wouldn’t be too far. The rooms were surprisingly good, very spacious and certainly comfortable. We settled in.
The Blue Waters Motel, looked like it was going through a major renovation. Perhaps more resort style is what the owners are looking for. It would take considerable work to achieve the desired, the pub part of the alterations was certainly working. We ventured inside for dinner. A few patrons and guests were already seated. The huge dining area didn’t look like anything special. With orders placed we sat with a few beers and started talking about the history of Orford …
Sudden darkness was accentuated by the Hollywood sound effect of power going off. The bar staff scrambled around trying to work out what had happened. The restaurant manager was quickly on the phone. It turned out there had been a nasty accident down the road which had taken out a power-pole, we sat and waited and continued to discuss the history.
The town was settled in 1831 to service the nearby Maria Island penal colony. The jetties still remain despite the water being too shallow for larger vessels. A quarry which is still in use today provided many stones for buildings in nearby Hobart as well as those in a number of prominent Melbourne constructions. Today the area service tourists with its pristine beaches.
Power came back on; we ate and then made the short walk to bed. Tomorrow would be, for me, one of the highlights of exploring Tasmania …
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