November 3
Strahan to Launceston
Not a good start. Couldn't persuade the hotel wi fi to work. Then had the continental breakfast - bowl of prunes and two slices of toast - which, it transpired - cost me AU$ 20. The nice coffee, which the barman offered me, turned out to be extra. I then checked my emails on the hotel computer and discovered London screaming at me to do some work.
In order to save time in the afternoon so that I could get on with the work, I planned to book ahead from the Information office. When I got there, the notice on the door said that it didn't open until lunchtime. Feeling worried about the work, I left town and headed North along empty, tree-lined, roads.
 |
 |
|
|
 |
 |
|
The Henty River |
Forestry was the active industry, with some areas looking like WWI battlefields following clear felling. I crossed the Henty River, passed lots more rough terrain and reached Zeehan.
 |
 |
|
|
This is another mining town and appeared more dead than alive. The Opera House is a fine building, as is the School of Mines. I considered the museum but decided that AU$15 was expensive for the few minutes that I wished to spend there.
The road continued up hill and down dale, through lots of trees and ferns. Just like New Zealand.
 |
 |
|
|
On the outskirts of Rosebery, I encountered a moving bucket chain, which
looked rather elderly, as did the town itself. The huge mine building dominated
one side of it. I had a walk, failed to find a source of wi fi or even
an interesting looking cafe, and went on my way.
|
 |
The next part of the journey was definitely wild and woolly. The cloud turned to drizzle and I sought shelter and a coffee at Tullah. This is an outdoor adventure settlement in the middle of nowhere. It looked exceedingly gloomy so I stopped for only a couple of minutes.
Right: Tullah - not inspiring |
 |
The road rose and rose, eventually peaking at over 900 metres. Outside the car, it was distinctly chilly. The vegetation reminded me of the Desert Road, lots of tussock and some very dead looking trees.
 |
 |
|
|
 |
|
|
|
This continued for many miles before the road descended into the trees and, after many undulations, onto the flat land near Sheffield.
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Tourist Office was gloriously chaotic - the lady who organised things for me was busy choking on her lunch when I arrived - but the staff could not have been more friendly or more helpful. They found me a bed in Launceston, gave me lots of maps and even made suggestions about restaurants - good ones as it turned out.
 |
 |
|
|
The town boasted a few reasonable buildings and a good view across to the mountain. The cafe, alas, wasn't very exciting so I had an Aussie pie and a slightly weak coffee.
Sheffield has tried to gain fame and prosperity in the same way as Kati Kati, in the Bay of Plenty, by re-branding itself as the town of murials. They were plastered all over the walls and were pretty enough but I have seen many similar in other towns elsewhere.
 |
 |
|
|
 |
|
|
|
After a day and a half in very wild and often desolate terrain, it was good to see lush green fields, full of grass and cows. It appeared to be a very rich agricultural area.
From there, I put my foot down and drove as fast as I could (within the legal limits) on a mixture of country roads and then a main dual carriageway. The sun came out, everything was green and the contrast with the West Coast scenery couldn't have been more striking.
The map marked up by the people at Sheffield proved completely accurate and I located the motel with no trouble at all. It was a bit scruffy on the outside but the room was very smart and well equipped. Best of all, the wi fi worked perfectly so I downloaded all of my emails, including the data from the office and prepared everything for later in the afternoon.Right: The Commodore Regent, Launceston |
 |
I had been told that the Commodore Regent motel was opposite the park, quite a pretty one, and that there were monkeys in it. I had visions of them climbing the trees and peering through my room windows.
 |
 |
|
|
Luckily, they turned out to have their own enclosure. I read the history of this - how there had been a long standing history of a zoo in the park, housing all manner of creatures - even Thylacines. This ceased in the 1970's but it was wished to retain the monkeys so, with the aid of Launceston's sister city in Japan, a troop of Japanese Macaques was introduced in 1980. I tried hard to get a group of them all facing in the same direction at the same time. That proved difficult.
In the increasingly hot sun, I found myself outside Boag's Brewery. My nose had already indicated that it was somewhere in the near vicinity.
 |
 |
|
|
I called into the "Centre for Beer Lovers" aka the Visitor Centre, and asked if they actually sold beer. The answer was that if I wanted a carton of bottles, they did. If I wanted a glass, they didn't. They did suggest that I try the Commercial Hotel round the corner. Being on a mission, I went past and called into the Information Centre, where they gave me a local wine tour guide.
Feeling that I shouldn't visit town without seeing the river, I pointed myself in the right direction but then stopped at a bar as it was becoming rather warm. It was nothing special but it did provide a glass of Boags' Bitter, which was cold and just what I needed.
 |
 |
|
|
Reaching the river bank proved a bit of an obstacle course, with busy roads, bowling greens and a flood wall blocking my way. I finally got there and looked at the muddy water and the big ships moored downstream. There was an interesting old bridge but it was largely hidden by the more boring new one.
On the return journey, I stayed off the main street and found lots of interesting buildings in a variety of styles. The Lonely Planet had suggested that the town had a better variety than most and this was certainly correct. The umbrella shop was an absolute classic - just like the one in Holborn.
 |
 |
|
|
 |
|
|
|
The Commercial Hotel was adjacent so I found my way in and had a Boags' XXX and a packet of crisps. The latter were ok but the pub and the beer were nothing special.
Right: The Commercial Hotel |
 |
Back at the motel, I wound myself up and spent an hour and a half in front of the computer. I will have to prepare to spend a little more time tomorrow sorting out the mistakes that London are sure to find. This left me about five minutes to change and walk the 50 yards to Restaurant 13, the motel restaurant. The owner must have the luck of the devil or not, as the case may be.
|
The wine list produced a range of Tasmanian produce and I selected the most expensive Riesling from Bay of Fires, not too far from here. An amuse bouche appeared - a Chinese spoon of ceviche or similar with toasted foccacia and oil/balsamic. It was delicate and lovely. Right: An amuse bouche |
 |
The wine proved to be good and the belly pork arrived. Pork belly, poached in master stock with an Asian salad, crisp wanton and nam jim dressing. It looked amazing and tasted good. I could find slight (very slight) fault with the pork but the Asian salad was brilliant. The wanton was an interesting distraction as it was presented to appear like crackling but, of course, had a completely different texture.
 |
 |
|
|
 |
|
|
|
The fish also looked amazing and I couldn't find any fault with it at all. Crusted trevalla, cabbage, streaky bacon, fennel and shellfish emulsion. From the moment it appeared, the aroma filled my nostrils and I was hooked (just like the fish had been!) The chef certainly knows what he/she is doing.
I told the waitress - at least 18 - that I thought the meal was wonderful and that I had better try a pudding. The coffee was a disappointment. Even the UK could probably have done better.
The dessert, a strawberry thingy, looked good but the waitress said it would have looked even better if the ice cream hadn't fallen off the top in transit. I complained, of course, but we agreed that the taste was good. I learned that the little girl who was waiting had 3 children - can't have been 18! - and that the junior in the kitchen was off to Northern Queensland to work for another top chef. I hope he does well.