HOBART CALLING! ‘TASSIE TOUR 24’ (story 2)

One of the real joys of travel is that it allows one to become curious. It permits us to remember that beyond the everyday worries of a work-day world there are adventures to be had and having them this choir certainly was as we travelled in coach comfort down the highways and byways of this naturally beautiful, culturally diverse Island state.

Day 6 – with suitcases stashed, we were headed for Hobart. ‘Ok… let’s do a count!’, a practice devised by our diligent Tour Manager Kathleen (No. 27) to keep track of 32 inquisitive/spirited/talkative travellers. Kathie’s back-up ‘buddy system’ also worked a treat in sussing out missing members. So militaristically executed was this count off, that even our driver, Aaron was almost afraid not to identify as No.33.

We popped into Campbell Town for a coffee, the contents of its merino woollen shop few could resist. We were regaled of a rich convict history, and many wandered to the convict designed Red Bridge still surviving as Australia’s oldest brick arch bridge.

We learned of the intriguing stories surrounding the village of Ross with its magnificent sandstone bridge created by convict artisans. And it wasn’t only history that loomed large in the village of Oatlands boasting Australia’s third oldest windmill, built in 1837, now the centrepiece for a whisky distillery, or the very quaint collection of convict-built sandstone homes. Moreover, it was the burgeoning appetites of 30 odd travellers from Esk all soon to be sated with warm hearty meals at Oatlands’ Kentish Hotel.

The steps of the old Kempton Distillery, situated in a well preserved 1840’s colonial inn, allowed for a perfect group photo after which came a warm welcome to the tasting room where various shots of whisky, gin and a sweet liqueur were given the seal of approval…or not…similarly the prodigious ladies’ loo which appeared to attract curious attention.

With spirits lifted on so many levels it was no time before we were staggering with suitcases throughto the foyer of Hobart’s Hotel Ibis, to bid our thanks and adieu to our driver Aaron who proved to be as competent as he was entertaining.

Rooms sorted; it was all hands-on deck at the Hotel’s Mister Good Guy Restaurant to chow down on copious amounts of Asian cuisine and Tassie wines before preparing the following day’s music for our performance at Mathers Place.

Tom: I wonder if I asked the restaurant manager, he’d give me discount on a new fridge/freezer?

Day 7 - and we were dropped off at the ‘drop-in’ centre, Mathers Place, in anticipation of our first Hobart public performance. Despite our unexpected arrival, and with performance conditions less than ideal, there was something deeply joyous and beautiful about singing for the few people who happened to be there. Run by volunteers, this is a centre which offers companionship, all manner of physical and mental support along with arts and craft activities, and hearty meals for whom ever would like a warm and welcoming place to be. Many enjoyed the lunch time hospitality at Mathers Place; others found a delightful little hole-in-the wall café for a quick bite to eat and soon it was onwards and upwards, literally. Kunanyi/ Mt Wellington awaited.

From the sea to this mountain’s summit, negotiating a very steep narrow roadway, one could imagine the violence of its birth – a mountain erupting huge boulders now worn down by time, wind and snow, like giant seed pearls, stuck to the sheer slopes by mighty swamp gums and flowering plants. It was truly breathtaking. From the summit viewing platform many braved the iron walkway’s sharp winds to marvel at the towering cliffs and unique panoramic views of Hobart while others preferred the cosy comfort behind glass at the viewing station. Many found sites to place their ‘Liz rocks’ with an expectation of discovery and recirculation to places far and wide.

Perhaps the survivors of the inhuman acts inflicted at Cascade Female Factory back in the 1800s onlyspoke of it to make sense of it. Perhaps they felt a responsibility to tell their stories…perhaps it was the reason they survived. The words on the walls, the stories of cruelty to the women and children, the resilience of those who managed to survive were so passionately iterated by Kay, our storyteller and guide. Truth can be so much harder than fiction. Our gathering that night for a group dinner at the fabulous ‘hook to plate’ award winning seafood restaurant ‘Mures’ down by Franklin Wharf was more than a welcome comfort at the end of a day of highs and lows.

Day 8 – and following our usual hearty Mr Good Guy breakfast we headed into the day with our driver de jour ‘Suuzzz’ with caffeine sizzling through our veins. Port Arthur Historic site our destination whilst enjoying informative, often amusing commentary along the way - the Macquarie Street intersection, ‘the only one in Australia with heritage listed sandstone buildings on each corner’: the tale of the Tasman Bridge disaster. We passed the ‘Hope and Anchor’, arguably the oldest pub in Australia and in Richmond crossed the oldest Bridge. We did Doo Town, once a timber town now a ‘shack’ community with quirky holiday house names attracting inquisitive passers-by: Doolittle, Doo Come In, Love Me Doo, It’ll Doo for Now, Doo Like a Drop… oh how I could go on but, that’ll have to doo!! We were confounded by the ‘dunny’ shaped cop shop before doing coffee in Dunalley; learned of the ‘Dogline’ at Eaglehawke Neck where the rope-line of vicious dogs thwarted any escape plans by convicts from Port Arthur, a story in stark contrast to the awesome vistas overlooking Pirates Bay, Devil’s Kitchen, and a photographer’s dream at the Tessellated Pavements, the polygonic rock phenomena caused by the earth’s tremors at Eaglehawk Neck.

But… how easy it is to digress during a day of so many highlights for it was to the UNESCO World Heritage listed Port Arthur Historic site that our road this day would lead. Such a complex history of compelling stories of convict life in this now pristine piece of Tasmania.

We roamed the grounds and gorgeous gardens to the Penitentiary, the separate Prison, and the unconsecrated convict church where the authorities attempted to reform convicts through religious instruction and worship. We wandered through homes of the gentry, the Port Arthur post office, and enjoyed a boat trip out to the Isle of the Dead, the final resting place for more than 1000 convicts, military and civil officers, and so many women and children. It has been said that history is not about dates, places and experiences, it is about the people who filled the spaces in between and so it is to those victims of the Port Arthur massacre that a memorial garden and pool of peace have been created that they will never be forgotten.

A soft grey face of morning greeted us on day 9…our first hint of rain but it was going to take a little more than a cold day in Hobart to prevent our group boarding the bus headed for our scheduled small serving of succulent oysters at the Barilla Bay Oyster Farm. The tour was informative too and included a growing appreciation of their famous ginger beer and the jaw-dropping price of abalone.

However, it was this evening’s workshop with the Sisongke Choir which had the group unshackled from expectations of perfection since little was known of this group. What a breath of fresh air this evening became. Sisonke Msimang, a South African writer and storyteller of race, gender and politics states ‘If a story moves you, act on it’. Through their songs, this Sisongke Choir under the direction of the dashing Oliver, celebrates all that this amazing lady speaks. Across an evening of a shared workshop at a delightful little Quaker School, we taught and learned four beautiful songs side by side.

This night, it rained.

…and so it is in the rain awaiting taxis with echoes of the last four days’ adventures and the promise of so much more to come that I will leave you to hopefully join me for the final leg of our ‘Tassie Tour ‘24’.

By: Sue Walker