Hobart

Today we made our way to Hobart for a two-night stay in the city. We arrived in time to check out the enormous Salamanca Market, packed full of artisan goods and all manner of tasty foods and alcoholic beverages. And all requiring a bank loan to purchase. Still, we had fun looking, even if we couldn’t afford anything. Ern did manage to find a vinyl record he’s been after for a long while. He tried to barter, but these Tasmanians drive a hard bargain, and he paid a small fortune for it.

Then we went for a stroll around this beautiful city. Spotting lots of rainbow-clad passers-by, we suspected something cool was happening but couldn’t find the event. On walking back to the Kombi, we cut through St. David’s Park. A group of homeless guys were camped out under a tree…

Homeless guy: “Hey. How ya goin’? Were you in the gay parade?”

Daph thinks Ern looked more like a lumberjack in his flannelette shirt than a gay parade participant today. Maybe he was sporting a Village People kind of gay look? Sadly, we missed the parade. But had a lovely day exploring this charismatic city.

There are no caravan parks in Hobart, so we treated ourselves and booked a quirky apartment with all the mod cons. The only problem... Hobart is very hilly. Like San Francisco hilly. The driveway up to the apartment was steep and angled. Catching the bumper on the way up, Ern had to manoeuvre a five-point turn just to get up the driveway. Then the handbrake wouldn’t hold on the steep incline of our parking spot, and Ern was a tad worried about leaving it in gear overnight. It was creaking and threatening to give way at any moment. So, we rolled the Kombi back down and parked in someone else’s less severe parking spot. We left a note in the window should they need us to move. Turns out, the owner of said parking spot is a beautiful Brazilian vet who doesn’t even own a car and was quite happy for us to park in her spot. Everyone loves a Kombi. Especially the Brazilians. Ern can stop panicking now.

Tomorrow we are getting all cultured. We are treating ourselves to a spa day and a trip to the MONA gallery[1].

Ern: “I might just wear this again tomorrow,” indicating his lumberjack outfit.

Daph: “YOU. WILL. NOT!! We’re going to an art gallery. And I’ve got the Posh Pit tickets for the ferry. The website literally says, ‘It’s f**king posh!’ You will at least try and look the part.”

[1] The Museum of Old and New Art in Hobart, Tasmania.