postcards from Tasmania
Across the Tasman sea from New Zealand to the first of our Australian ports: Tasmania. Mainly an agricultural, farming and tourist economy, with some tech stuff coming in recently.
On the agricultural front, Tasmania grows Apricots, Pears, more recently Walnuts and some Olives. Oh, and it’s one of the principal sources of pharmaceutical grade Opium Poppies to the U.S. and Germany.
Gotta love some poppies…
There are some great local cheeses - particularly a type of Brie that’s mild and creamy and smells very farmlike.
The local Beer is Cascade in the South and Boags in the North of the island.
We crossed the river Styx on our way to the National Park today. Charyon was clearly taking the day off…
The first stop took us to a wildlife sanctuary where the Wallabies and Kangaroo are freerange, and so heartbreakingly friendly. Abiding memory: a mob of Kangaroo patiently taking their turns to eat from my hand; their big front teeth scraping my palm and leaving a fist full of Roo spit. The more dextrous Wallies using their front paws to actually hold your hand still as they snack.
In the tall-trees forest, 80 foot Eucalyptids, soaing above us; the cries of birds - unseen, but everywhere. The Russell Falls - heard before they are seen, and dramatic even though our guide (the lovely veronica) tells us they’re a little quiet due to drought.
Lunch by the Maydena Ladies in a village hall with a covered Pool table serving as a desert buffet. A roast lamb dinner with the best gravy ever, and a tuch of England in slightly over-boiled veg 
A desert spread to make Rosemary Conley weep. “Would you like some cream with your cream, sir?” Truly fabulous home made Pavlovae, Strawberry Cheesecake, with the Berries pulped into the cheese to make a vivid pink filling, a desert made of chocolate biscuits (Bourbon fingers?) soaked in cream and packed into a baking tray to marinate overnight, forming a cake that’s on a similar principal, but slightly denser texture to a Tiramisiu. With no alcohol. But enough saturated fats to stop your heart at twenty paces. It’s then decorated with more cream, choc shavings, and a cherry. For fibre.
En route, we discover that Veronica’s sister lives ten minutes from us at home. Small world getting smaller.
Joe Ellis, the farmer shows us a working farm (Sheep! Shearing! Dubious looking Aussie Sheep Shearer! And I thought I’d avoided sheep!) Great fun, but round the corner is the farm’s true gem: Meadowbank winery.
Beautiful. Wines that are a little thinner on the palate than some of the old heavy tannic Europeans, but the plus is that their Pinot Noir, whilst having a nose that’s smoky wood and chocolate and heavy berries and all the dark deep heavy scents of comparable wines at home, has a palate that’s perfect for sipping in summer sunshine. Odd, but it makes perfect sense late in the afternoon on a Tasmanian February day.
So, a bottle of Pinot, and a bottle of the other wine I’ve taken a liking to on this trip: The Sauvignon Blanc. Slatey, with Apricot and Honey and, perhaps a touch of something ‘pissy’ on the nose, and with sharp citrus and Flinty tastes on the tongue, with a nice rounded finish. Best drunk cool, but not so cold you’re tempted to chug.
So there you are: Opium, beer, chocolate, cream, cheeses, sheep, wines and Roo spit. And the scenery’s not bad.
Wish you were here.
dx