12 October 2013 - Treasure Island Caravan Park, Berriedale, Tasmania

There was little required in the way of packing up this morning, having remained hitched up for the duration of our stay at Triabunna. We picked up the weekend newspaper and called around to the dump station where we were accosted by the local policeman. He was interested in our Queensland number plates, envious of our travel and amused by Chris’s story about the jail-stay. He said the doors were always open. Even in these more modern times; he was a most welcoming sort.

We drove on south out of Triabunna along the harbour edge, soon arriving at Orford, such a pretty seaside spot. It would have been nice to spend some time here but we were intent on our day’s destination so carried on. The road turned inland following the Prosser River upstream; a most picturesque road which eventually climbed a couple of hundred metres and passed through farmland and open woodlands. We came over hills with the most hilarious names; Bust-Me-Neck Hill at 336 metres ASL and Break-Me-Neck Hill. One can only speculate on the origin of such names.

About ten kilometres south west of the small settlement of Buckland, we turned onto a minor road that took us up through the Coal River Valley and across to Brighton where we joined the Midland Highway. Here we turned south, crossing the Derwent River and soon arriving at this camp, sister to that we stayed at in Launceston.

While there is something rather shabby about the camp, it is situated in the most delightful spot, covering a small peninsula out into the Derwent. The views are lovely, out over the water and south west to the towering Mt Wellington which stands sentinel over Hobart at 1270 metres ASL.

I did a load of washing and then fought with the wind and the derelict clothes line. After lunch I had another fight with the wind and the collapsing clothes line and came back into the caravan in a foul temper and half dry washing which I laid about the van. Chris was not happy with the Chinese-laundry effect.  Washing and the wind do not sit well together with me.

The hours of the Salamanca Market for the day

We drove into town to check out the lay of the land and found a park near the Information Centre by the waterfront which was most fortuitous. After consulting the wise ones within, we wandered along the waterfront, sussed out the whereabouts of the Leisure and Camping Show for tomorrow and found ourselves in the middle of the famous Salamanca Markets, albeit the packing up stage. Even this was fascinating and so we wandered among the crowds and the boxes, smelling and seeing, listening and taking it all in; in all a taste of Hobart we have yet to explore.

We set off back to camp calling into the shopping centre at Glenorghy where we purchased great quantities of provisions, returning minutes before heavy rain set in. The rain has continued all evening and checking the forecast, looks like it might remain so for a few days. Not good news at all.