We ate at the wharves, and a place called Mures, which has sit-down eating.
Originally we were going to get lunch at Flippers, or one of three choices along the wharf.
The only problem was nowhere to sit and eat.
This means you have to hope the food at Mures tastes any good.
So, we order a curried scallop pie with chips and potato salad, a serving of battered flathead, and crumbed prawns.
While we were waiting I got a bottle of Tasmanian champagne.
Then it arrives. The battered flathead also has a mountain of chips and we are going to be struggling to eat all of them.
The battered flathead was, as the saying goes, to die for. It’s the best-battered fish I’ve had in a long time.
The curried scallop pie brought back a lot of bad memories of my mother’s curried sausages. It’s the same curry taste, and I used to hate it
It was also similar to the four and twenty curried meat pies I used to have 50 years ago as a teen, with exactly the same taste.
Sadly it was not a pleasant experience, but the flathead more than made up for it. The potato salad was delicious too, but for something so simple, so many people manage to stuff it up. This was exactly how I like it.
The champagne was very good too, so the whole experience was above average. Pity about the scallop pie. More scallops and less curry would make it a more pleasant experience.
We ate at the wharves, and a place called Mures, which has sit-down eating.
Originally we were going to get lunch at Flippers, or one of three choices along the wharf.
The only problem was nowhere to sit and eat.
This means you have to hope the food at Mures tastes any good.
So, we order a curried scallop pie with chips and potato salad, a serving of battered flathead, and crumbed prawns.
While we were waiting I got a bottle of Tasmanian champagne.
Then it arrives. The battered flathead also has a mountain of chips and we are going to be struggling to eat all of them.
The battered flathead was, as the saying goes, to die for. It’s the best-battered fish I’ve had in a long time.
The curried scallop pie brought back a lot of bad memories of my mother’s curried sausages. It’s the same curry taste, and I used to hate it
It was also similar to the four and twenty curried meat pies I used to have 50 years ago as a teen, with exactly the same taste.
Sadly it was not a pleasant experience, but the flathead more than made up for it. The potato salad was delicious too, but for something so simple, so many people manage to stuff it up. This was exactly how I like it.
The champagne was very good too, so the whole experience was above average. Pity about the scallop pie. More scallops and less curry would make it a more pleasant experience.
We agreed not to plan what we were going to do today, but I had this idea we should go north or the opposite direction to yesterday.
That meant our destination, following the hop on hop off bus route was to head towards the Botanic Gardens.
Bur first, Rosemary had expressed a desire to go down to the water’s edge to have a look, giving an excellent view of the coastline at what was called Battery Point.
I tried to get there, but there were no roads that specifically went down to the water’s edge, but we did eventually drive-up Salamanca place, where we had walked a few days before.
It was not the same, but it did give us time to look at the line of sandstone buildings that had been there a long time and had been repurposed as Sn arts precinct.
Of course, there was only one flaw in the plan, Rosemary was not able to walk any great distance, so we were limited to what could be seen from the car.
But…
There was really nothing to see, just cars parked haphazardly on the side of the road near an entrance that led down some steps, or a few cars in a proper car park too far away from the entrance.
I was not sure what to make of it other than it was an exercise-intensive effort just to get from the car park to the gate, and then you had to walk around the gardens.
It was all too much.
Government House was on the same road, but it was not open to the public, nor was it in sight of the road, do no photographic moment there, so we were doubly disappointed.
The next phase of our unplanned tour was to go over the Tasman Bridge, perhaps to see the other side of the bay that we could see from our apartment.
Except…
When we got over the other side we veered left to follow the Derwent towards Lindisfarne where there was a yacht basin and several yacht clubs, one of which promised a view while you drank coffee.
Only problem, no parking spaces.
A good idea, unable to be acted on.
Instead, we drove around the esplanade, and continued on our way to Glenorchy, after not being able to get that coffee with a view.
Back on the main road, we take the Glenorchy exit and doesn’t take long to get there, though, by the time we’ve driven through the suburban area, we’re back on the main Hobart Road.
It was a case of don’t blink or you’ll miss it. We missed Glenorchy.
Change of plans, looking for that elusive coffee, we head for the center of Hobart shopping, Centrepoint, hoping in that center there will be a coffee shop. Of course, it’s Queen’s Birthday holiday so it’s possible nothing is open.
In the end, we found a parking space nearby. And a Hudson’s. Coffee and a toasted sandwich went down very well.
So, once again, we didn’t get to the places we were hoping to get to. This is what tomorrow, we’re not going to state a place to visit.
We agreed not to plan what we were going to do today, but I had this idea we should go north or the opposite direction to yesterday.
That meant our destination, following the hop on hop off bus route was to head towards the Botanic Gardens.
Bur first, Rosemary had expressed a desire to go down to the water’s edge to have a look, giving an excellent view of the coastline at what was called Battery Point.
I tried to get there, but there were no roads that specifically went down to the water’s edge, but we did eventually drive-up Salamanca place, where we had walked a few days before.
It was not the same, but it did give us time to look at the line of sandstone buildings that had been there a long time and had been repurposed as Sn arts precinct.
Of course, there was only one flaw in the plan, Rosemary was not able to walk any great distance, so we were limited to what could be seen from the car.
But…
There was really nothing to see, just cars parked haphazardly on the side of the road near an entrance that led down some steps, or a few cars in a proper car park too far away from the entrance.
I was not sure what to make of it other than it was an exercise-intensive effort just to get from the car park to the gate, and then you had to walk around the gardens.
It was all too much.
Government House was on the same road, but it was not open to the public, nor was it in sight of the road, do no photographic moment there, so we were doubly disappointed.
The next phase of our unplanned tour was to go over the Tasman Bridge, perhaps to see the other side of the bay that we could see from our apartment.
Except…
When we got over the other side we veered left to follow the Derwent towards Lindisfarne where there was a yacht basin and several yacht clubs, one of which promised a view while you drank coffee.
Only problem, no parking spaces.
A good idea, unable to be acted on.
Instead, we drove around the esplanade, and continued on our way to Glenorchy, after not being able to get that coffee with a view.
Back on the main road, we take the Glenorchy exit and doesn’t take long to get there, though, by the time we’ve driven through the suburban area, we’re back on the main Hobart Road.
It was a case of don’t blink or you’ll miss it. We missed Glenorchy.
Change of plans, looking for that elusive coffee, we head for the center of Hobart shopping, Centrepoint, hoping in that center there will be a coffee shop. Of course, it’s Queen’s Birthday holiday so it’s possible nothing is open.
In the end, we found a parking space nearby. And a Hudson’s. Coffee and a toasted sandwich went down very well.
So, once again, we didn’t get to the places we were hoping to get to. This is what tomorrow, we’re not going to state a place to visit.
We’re up early because there’s an informal breakfast put on by the resort at 9, with waffles, ice cream, and berries.
It also meant that we will be able to embark on an adventure a lot earlier than we have been previously, somewhere about 10:30.
Breakfast ends at about 10 and we take a few minutes to decide what we’re going to do. The best option is the go-to Port Arthur, nearly 100km away, about an hour and a half drive.
The weather is great considering so far we’ve had rain and more rain, insidious cold, and snow, so for the day to be sunny with blue skies is as if the planets have lined up.
Nearly 100 km driving in rain to visit a penal colony 8n the rain was not a good prospect.
Along the way, there are a number of scenic points and intermittent views of the water which in places gives views out to sea, but it seems mostly over estuaries because the water is quite calm.
Only as we approach Port Arthur do we get to see the ocean stretch out to the horizon, and there are lookout points over rocks that display the end result of the ocean’s fury with land.
There are several viewing points for landmarks such as the Blowhole. These we will stop at on the way back
Along with a lavender factory and cafe.
Not far from that lavender factory is a Tasmanian Devil union, which seems to be an odd name for scything, but we don’t stop to see exactly what it is
Just at noon, we arrive at the Port Arthur site to be greeted by two overflow carparks, then a three-tiered carpark. We try for the first, and closest, and get a park, more by good luck than anything else.
Good luck getting into the settlement other than through the edifice built across the whole front. This is how you make people feel secure. Not even an ant could get past it.
There us a restaurant, a Cafe, a gift shop, and entrance. The cost is $45 for an adult, $20 for children, and $36 for us.
And from what I can see if the settlement, and the activities included in the admission price, we could not do any of it, so coming was not exactly a waste of time, we had to come to at least see it.
Maybe when Rosemary can walk again.
We spend time in the gift shop, I get a book that had photos of what we’re missing, sad then we head back.
Lunch at a seafood restaurant beckons.
On the way back we visit the Lavender farm, and, of course, pick up a few lavender items.
Hotel Dunally Seafood Restaurant, or so the sign outside says.
We saw this place on the way to Poet Arthur and if time allowed, we would check it out for lunch.
About 1 30 pm we go in.
Sadly, the locally caught Flounder is unavailable, no one had been able to go out and get it, so there is no fresh fish at all, not even the flathead.
Asked about the flathead, but it’s frozen seafood out of a bag and fried. For a seafood restaurant, it’s very disappointing that it lacks fresh seafood.
We opt for the seafood bake, with chips and salad. It’s not going to be fresh seafood, but maybe the closest thing to it, with prawns, scallops, and calamari, as well as fish pieces.
WE then decided to go back to Daci and Daci again, for another cake.
Who hasn’t been on one of these, particularly if you have an older brother or sister, and they have nothing better to do than give you a hard time.
You know what I mean, going on a mission to find or do something, knowing full well that you won’t find it, or complete it because it was a lost cause to start with.
Yes, it goes very well with another saying, a dog chasing its tail.
We’ve seen that, too, watching the poor dog go round and round without ever achieving anything.
Sounds like my day today.
And it doesn’t stop there, the pointless search could also be described as ‘searching for a needle in a haystack’.
That is, to my mind the very definition of a living nightmare.
The origin of the idiom, well that’s a little more complicated because there isn’t just one definition.
The first:
Coined by William Shakespeare, but not necessarily in the sort of language we can read easily – it’s a bit like my ability to translate Spanish to English. It does, however, refer to a ‘wild goose chase’.
The second:
Refers to, of all things 16th Century horseracing, and because I don’t have a time machine I can’t go back to fact-check. However, it refers to the other riders following the leader around the course, in much the same formation as geese flying through the air.
…
My little story to go with it:
…
If you are good at your job, and that is beginning to be noticed, your boss will find one of these ‘wild goose chases’ just for you, in an effort to make you look bad.
It happened to me once: my task was to search the basement, where old records were stored, for a folder that a former employee had thought they had filed it in the wrong storage box, a supposition supported by the fact the folder was now needed to clear up a clerical error and the file wasn’t in the specifically marked storage box.
My job was to search every one of the other 765 boxes stored haphazardly in the basement until I found it.
It was, I was told later, sitting on his desk the whole time, and when I couldn’t find it, was going to swoop in and say he’d found it.
Of course, it went missing before he could, so he got a bollicking for not storing the files properly, and I got the job to clean up the basement. I’m not sure who got the worst punishment.
We’re up early because there’s an informal breakfast put on by the resort at 9, with waffles, ice cream, and berries.
It also meant that we will be able to embark on an adventure a lot earlier than we have been previously, somewhere about 10:30.
Breakfast ends at about 10 and we take a few minutes to decide what we’re going to do. The best option is the go-to Port Arthur, nearly 100km away, about an hour and a half drive.
The weather is great considering so far we’ve had rain and more rain, insidious cold, and snow, so for the day to be sunny with blue skies is as if the planets have lined up.
Nearly 100 km driving in rain to visit a penal colony 8n the rain was not a good prospect.
Along the way, there are a number of scenic points and intermittent views of the water which in places gives views out to sea, but it seems mostly over estuaries because the water is quite calm.
Only as we approach Port Arthur do we get to see the ocean stretch out to the horizon, and there are lookout points over rocks that display the end result of the ocean’s fury with land.
There are several viewing points for landmarks such as the Blowhole. These we will stop at on the way back
Along with a lavender factory and cafe.
Not far from that lavender factory is a Tasmanian Devil union, which seems to be an odd name for scything, but we don’t stop to see exactly what it is
Just at noon, we arrive at the Port Arthur site to be greeted by two overflow carparks, then a three-tiered carpark. We try for the first, and closest, and get a park, more by good luck than anything else.
Good luck getting into the settlement other than through the edifice built across the whole front. This is how you make people feel secure. Not even an ant could get past it.
There us a restaurant, a Cafe, a gift shop, and entrance. The cost is $45 for an adult, $20 for children, and $36 for us.
And from what I can see if the settlement, and the activities included in the admission price, we could not do any of it, so coming was not exactly a waste of time, we had to come to at least see it.
Maybe when Rosemary can walk again.
We spend time in the gift shop, I get a book that had photos of what we’re missing, sad then we head back.
Lunch at a seafood restaurant beckons.
On the way back we visit the Lavender farm, and, of course, pick up a few lavender items.
Hotel Dunally Seafood Restaurant, or so the sign outside says.
We saw this place on the way to Poet Arthur and if time allowed, we would check it out for lunch.
About 1 30 pm we go in.
Sadly, the locally caught Flounder is unavailable, no one had been able to go out and get it, so there is no fresh fish at all, not even the flathead.
Asked about the flathead, but it’s frozen seafood out of a bag and fried. For a seafood restaurant, it’s very disappointing that it lacks fresh seafood.
We opt for the seafood bake, with chips and salad. It’s not going to be fresh seafood, but maybe the closest thing to it, with prawns, scallops, and calamari, as well as fish pieces.
WE then decided to go back to Daci and Daci again, for another cake.
Hohensalzburg Castle sits atop the Festungsberg, accessed by a cable car.
The castle itself dominates the Salzburg skyline.
Below is a view down into Salzburg from the castle walls.
We had lunch at a café, the Salzburg Fortress Café, that overlooked the countryside. This was where we were introduced to Mozart Gold Chocolate Cream added to our coffee.
The square below featured in the Sound of Music.
Among the more interesting objects to be seen, the gun below shows what some of the castle’s armaments might have been. These cannons, in the ‘Firing Gallery’ date back to the thirty years war in the early 1600’s.
I was told a long time ago I wasn’t perfect, and it didn’t bother me. Then.
But it’s true. I don’t always get it right, sometimes I get annoyed and say things in the heat of the moment that perhaps shouldn’t be said, and sometimes I can be ‘difficult’.
I’ll be the first in line to say my blog isn’t perfect, in fact sometimes it bothers me some of the bits and pieces that go up because I doubt if they’re interesting, at the time, to anyone but me.
Perhaps it’s because I chose to be a writer.
It’s a hard slog at the best of times. Getting ideas, carving out time to write, having to live a normal life as distinct from that of living in a garret, on your own, writing that next great Nobel prize for literature, or is it a Pulitzer?
I don’t get that, I don’t have that, and I don’t want that.
For those of us living on that ‘edge’ of finding time to write, maintain a blog, keep up with social media, do the daily chores and watch some television, something has to give.
So, I’m not getting any writing done if I’m working on the blog, or I’m on social media. If I’m doing the blog, something else has to be sacrificed.
Mostly it’s my blog. My blog is about writing stuff, visiting places that have been or will be used in stories, and once, a recalcitrant cat who sadly has passed on. It also has running episodic stories, usually four different at a time.
It also had about 2,000 past posts. When I don’t get the time to do my blog, which has been mostly for the last three months off and on, I sometimes repackage or repeat past posts, just to keep it ticking over, much like a scoreboard.
It is also a tool for advertising my books and stories, and what’s coming (if only I stopped using social media) and these are repeated every four or five days. It’d the equivalent of advertising because I can’t afford other advertising. If this is an annoyance, I’m sorry.
And just so everyone knows, I will always keep writing, not because I want to become the next James Patterson, though it would be nice, I write because I want to, and it pleases me when someone reads something I write, and they like it. It is the greatest compliment of all, and I believe in encouragement. It’s why I spend a lot of that social media time highlighting other writers so they can build a following.
After all, we are all in the same boat, it would just be nice if we were all rowing in the same direction.
It is not raining when we woke, but it had been most of the night. After a cold start, the weather, seems to have improved, if only for the time being.
Today’s expedition is the Cascade Brewery, which doesn’t have tours at the moment because of staff issues with Covid, but does have a bar and restaurant. There is also a historic site, an old women’s prison, and botanical gardens. I’m not sure how far we’ll get in the gardens, but the bar and restaurant is looking good.
We get there and decide on lunch first then a visit to the women’s prison.
Fail. The bar and restaurant are packed and there are no tables left. Time for a photograph of the old brewery, and move on.
Instead of going to the prison, just down the road, we go off in a different direction, to Mt Wellington, thinking it might give excellent views of Hobart.
Only a sign says the road is supposed to be closed, but it is not, so we and a dozen others are venturing up the road towards the summit.
The road was probably opened temporarily, but it is getting more treacherous as the snow appears and the road is wet. We make it about 2km before deciding it’s unsafe.
The adventure continues because at the bottom of the hill we decided to go to Huonville, hoping to chance upon the apple orchards and all things apple.
It was an immense letdown. There was nothing, except for one innocuous building with a sign out front saying it was open, but for all intents and purposes looked like it was completely empty.
Until you drove around the back to the carpark where there were hundreds of cars, and inside, totally packed.
It’s where everyone in Huonville had gone.
And not where we were going to get a distinctly Tasmanian meal.
We had to settle for another pie from Banjo’s in Sandy Bay.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 