It’s the journey

Whoever it was that said it’s the journey rather than the destination must have had my day today in mind.

I started the day by looking out my window at the sort of weather that you picture when you think of Tasmania. It was wild, wet and very woolly. Even getting my bags into the grey ghost, which was parked in the street directly in front of my room, was an exercise is speed and precision. Holding the door open in the face of a gale and then managing to get my pack in the front seat and my bag in the back without getting too wet was an adventure. I bought a pie from the only establishment open in town and sat on the waterfront watching the rain shoot sideways across the bay.

I figured that it was going to be an interesting drive to Strahan.

As it turned out it was extremely interesting.

I followed all of Bambi’s instructions and headed back towards Burnie, eventually making a turn at Wynyard and heading inland. From here on the joy of the journey took over.

The scenery changed, seemingly at every corner, from bush that reminded me of New Zealand so much I almost had a tear in my eye, to green rolling hills and farm houses, to scrubby windswept hilltops and sweeping views over lakes. It was a magical drive and even the weather seemed to change from driving rain to bursts of brilliant sunshine at the drop of a hat.

I stopped to take photos of scenery and to walk little bush tracks that were signposted on the side of the road. I can count the number of cars I saw on two hands and no one else seemed to be in any more of a hurry than I was, and I wasn’t. The grey ghost glided gracefully over gradients and through glades to my glee. I also had a lot of time to think.

If I haven’t said it before then I’ll say it now, it was a great drive and I enjoyed every moment of it.

Eventually the road ran out and I found myself in Strahan. I wonder what I can say about Strahan that isn’t coloured by the weather. As far as tourism goes I can only say that it is a summer town. All of the suggested things to do on the sheet in my motel room are water based or require warmer conditions than are here now. As was the case in Stanley so many places that would be swarming with tourists at any other time are now shut. I drove around for a while and then walked up and down the main street, interacting with the friendly locals who were standing outside the local hotel, seemingly oblivious to the weather.

This would be a great place to visit in summer but for me today it’s turning into a place to rinse out some smalls and get some sleep at the end of a day of driving I won’t forget in a hurry. I can only hope that tomorrows scenery on the way back to Devonport is half as good.