Cradle Mountain and Queenstown

Ahhhhhh. Tasmania in the summer. A mild two degrees and snowing. What a perfect day for a walk around the stunning Dove Lake at the base of Cradle Mountain. Just magical.

We meticulously set up everything we’d need the night before when it was a much warmer eight degrees, anticipating that our fingers wouldn’t work very well in the cold at 6.00 a.m. The early morning hot shower was delicious. The drying off with a frozen wet towel and trying to get into four layers of clothing before hypothermia sets in... not so delicious.

Ern looked the part in his snazzy hiking gear. Daph looked like a toddler going out to play in the snow, having difficulty moving with all the layers. Daph talked a big game, thinking her last-minute hiking boots would enable her to trek ahead of Ern in style. She trailed behind in the snowstorms and called it a day after the six-kilometre hike because her feet were hurting.

Ern was excited to wear his sports watch (which hasn’t been used since 2003) just in case we needed to know the time. Though once dressed in all his layers, there was no finding the watch anyway, hidden under several layers of clothing and impossible to get to without a search party. As was Daph’s bottom when attempting to go to the toilet.

The watch didn’t get used until we were back at the campground and cooking dinner by the toasty log fire.

Ern: “What time did I say it was before we came to cook dinner?”

Daph: “4.30 p.m.”

Ern: “Oh. It’s only 3.10 p.m. now.”

Ern’s sports watch does not make him an Olympic time-teller.

Oh well. An early dinner it is then.

***

Today was a struggle. We have so much to be grateful for, but today we had trouble feeling the appreciation.

We started off on a bad foot. We were tired from an unsettled night in sub-zero temperatures. We were dirty because it was too cold to shower, and we were wearing the same clothes we had slept in. And we were freezing cold after trying to pack up the camping gear in the blustery winds with frozen hands that had forgotten how to work properly. At least Daph couldn’t feel the pain in her bunions and corns because her feet were numb. Silver linings.

First stop, Queenstown, because we’d heard of it, so it must be worth visiting, right? Maybe once upon a time. But, in Ern’s words, “Queenstown was a fizzer”. It has been over-mined, so the surrounding mountains are barren, and the town centre is well overdue a spruce up. Moving on ......

The drive out of Queenstown is stunning. The scenery is breathtaking as you drive through the mountains. Ern refused to go for the walk to Horsetail Falls. Daph was uncharacteristically happy to risk her life on the rickety wooden walkway built into the mountain face. Ern was already suffering from vertigo just driving the Kombi through the mountains. So, we stopped at Nelson Falls instead, because it was ground level and had a much safer walkway.

The journey through the beautiful Central Highlands should have been delightful, but it was draining. We were already behind the eight ball, and the lack of civilisation in these parts is very isolating. For four hours, there was nothing but beautiful nature. Whilst we were loving it for the first hour, it became very “Groundhog Day” after a while, and we were desperate for some sign of life other than sheep. We needed food. And petrol. But there was nothing. We finally found the little town of Ouse, which had a small grocery store to cater to their needs.

Daph and Ern perused the shelves in search of something healthy for dinner. The store had a very limited supply of mainly canned goods, snacks, dog food, and a small selection of hardware should we feel the need to do some angle grinding or gap filling on the road. Oh well, back to the good old days of romantic Italian meals out of a can.

Moving on, we made it to our destination at Left of Field Caravan Park. A quirky oasis set in the Mount Field National Park. The temperature is much kinder. After a delightful, open-air hot shower, we are currently enjoying the great outdoors, wrapped in a blanket, watching the sunset. We are being serenaded by a guy on guitar and stuffing our faces with TimTams[1] that we bought from the store.

In the aftermath, we realise that there is gratitude to be found in everything, no matter how draining it seems at the time…

We were cold, but at least we had a roof over our heads in the snow.

We were dirty, but at least we had hot showers and clean clothes at the end of the day.

We are hungry, but at least we have TimTams.

[1] A delicious chocolate coated biscuit, an Australian icon.