|Tassie Devil calling my name ...|
|Beyond description ...|
|Lorikeet and the fig|
Some travel suggestions do not warrant hesitation. My Australian friend's mention of Tasmania was one of them. Tas' wild island allure had been on my must-see list for half my lifetime. My latest book, Wild Road Home was out and book tour had a natural break in January. So it was, I boarded a plane January 20th. My biggest concern was the vacation-length stay. My MO was more like three months than three weeks. In this case, I took whatever I could get. Second concern: I'd never traveled with Greg. I'd met him the previous summer while rangering at Devils Tower, WY; we'd been in daily communication for three months. He presented as a caring, bright, generous, fun man, but one never really knows, do they? I was intuitively certain of two things: I would come out the other end with a trip of a lifetime and a new precious friend.
(Note: I will share many images from this venture over several blogs; I do not plan to repeat images I have already posted on Facebook, where you will see images primarily from my phone. Images here will be from my "real" camera, the Lumix 300.)
The plan was to land in Sydney, spend three days to move beyond jetlag, and hop a plane for Hobart Tasmania. It was a good choice, my introduction to one of the most beautiful, enjoyable cities in the world.
Our B&B was on Watson Bay in Vaucluse, about ten miles from the airport and a twenty minute ferry ride from downtown Sydney. Greg met me at the airport and we proceeded to hop several trains and a ferry. Alas, one does not hop with three suitcases and a carry-on bag. Excitement morphed into a prayer that a wheel didn't fall off a new suitcase as we rumbled up various sidewalks. I arrived with the word uber upon my lips. As in uber exhausted and next time I take Uber!
Public transportation was a flawless system of trains, buses and ferries. Fresh seafood ruled the menus. Street scenes were endless. We took in Carole King's musical, "Brilliant," which was that and more. I never knew she had written so many songs beyond those she sang herself. Fresh fish & chips and calamari the size of onion rings. Flowering shrubs and oh yes, the cacophony of birds and parrot squawks, an auditory palette not experienced since Guatemala and Africa.
|My wild friend|
Jetlag behind me, I was ready for Tas, the island under the island down under. Thoughts of earth dreams peppered my soul; Sherman Alexis' reminder that we the people are dreaming the earth into being as the the earth dreams us into being.
Just what did she have in store as we journeyed toward the full moon eclipse?
|A Tassie Tiger?|
|Think: US July 4th|
|Yes, they really are this cute!|
|On the Ferry ... a laptop strapped to his back|
|An Australian Magpie!|
|These Cockatoos were everywhere. High-flying beauties.|