#1 North East Tas

Thursday 14 January

Our first blog of our trip around Australia, two weeks in. Uneventful and relaxing so far.

Towns/campsites/caravan parks stayed in so far:

Shepparton (VIC)
Frankston (VIC)
Kelso
Myrtlebank (between Launceston and Scottsdale)
St Helens

Some of the highlights:

Waiting to board the Spirit of Tasmania in Melbourne, we needed to find some parking and a toilet. Found a car park at a nature reserve near Frankston, and despite the map suggesting toilets, no toilet. K was contemplating heading for the bush when a Commodore with no plates parked right near us. Suffice to stay, K held on as we departed. Wondering where we could find parking suitable for the A’van, we spied the Baxter Tavern! Plenty of parking and beautiful clean toilets for the cost of a lemon, lime and bitters and a glass of chardonnay. And we even watched the cricket.

The ferry trip across was smooth, and we even got some sleep in the ocean recliner lounge we shared with 200 other travellers. No snorers and a beautiful sunrise on the way in.

Devonport did not grab us that much, but K was even less impressed when she heard that the York Town fire was just a few kms away from our first stay at Kelso. We stayed a couple of nights and bailed a day early as the winds picked up a bit. H thought we were escaping the flames by heading to Tassie for the summer.

At Launceston we spent some time at Cataract Gorge, a marvellous place not far from the city centre. We chatted with a bushcare volunteer and H congratulated him on the work that they do in the area and what great people volunteers are. K thought it quite tragic that H was wearing an ACT ParkCare hat at the time.

We are gradually learning the ins and outs of the A’van, and in one particular instance, it was the ‘outs’ as we forgot to lock the fridge door while travelling. When we checked, there were two items on the A’van floor and the fridge door as shut! Luckily no mess to clean up but obviously some of the contents did not get along.

Our next camp was at Myrtlebank between Launceston and Scottsdale, a beautiful spot on the Patrick River. A council-run park only $3 a night. Memories will be a platypus in the river, a friendly Ned Flanders-type neighbour who laughed at the size of my solar panel (size does matter when it comes to solar power), duelling campsites as AC/DC and country music competed for the air space, and a Rottweiler roaming around (remember Brettie’s dog Kujo from Kath and Kim?).


K is thinking that she will write a sociological essay on caravan parks. We have noticed that it is, on the surface at least, a very community focussed place. Trust is obvious as people leave their campsites set up and go out for the day. Bikes, boats, shoes and washing on the line. We are still half expecting our super new pegs to go missing any time now.

Another socially acceptable activity is ‘gawking’ and checking out each other’s set up. You can’t get paranoid or self conscious, much to H’s horror, as we are still learning the correct process to park and set up the A’van. Everyone susses out the neighbours and although we have seen other little A’vans along the way they are a bit of a novelty parked amongst the pop ups, hired campervans and camper trailers. Although today the mega bus parked across the way is attracting the most attention - many people stop and stare on the walk to the ablution block.

We still have not worked out the level of friendliness with which to greet neighbours. ACT number plates have proven a point for people to reach out to us – both for good reasons, like our current neighbours are from Goulburn; and not so good reasons – like the caretaker of one campground wanting to charge us double because “you’re from Caaaanbra…”

K was in the camp kitchen recently and I smiled at the family eating their lunch only to hear the little boy say to his mum “why does everyone smile at me around here?” K is not sure whether that says more about caravan park culture or where he comes from. Although we don’t find initiating conversation that easy, (especially when the slight smile does not get a good response) there have been a few things that seem to work. The other morning K was trying to get the last little bit out of my sunscreen and it flew across the bathroom floor. She growled as she chased it across the room but this must have stirred curiosity and she ended up having a great conversation with a young woman who was cycling up the mountain range we had just crossed (in the car) the day before. Although K walked away feeling really lazy she was glad that H is into bushwalking and not bush cycling, and it was great to have a chat and learn something about someone she would not have otherwise met.

Another good conversation starter is to ask about their set up. This morning we picked up a few tips on packing up the water hoses so that the water does not go everywhere. Then there is the need to humble oneself and ask for help. Our awning blew down in the wind and we needed a ladder to unhook it and would you believe that the neighbour on the other side had one.

Looking forward to learning more about how personal space boundaries work in caravan parks. So far we have twice managed to get the spot where everyone cuts through to go to the toilet block. The good part about that is that we have lots of opportunity to legally ‘gawk’ and practice the gentle smile.

PS Only 4mm of rain in Tas so far : (

Word Watch
Each blog we will share some of the words/names that catch our attention. So far:

A ‘fish and chippery’ in suburban Melbourne
A ‘lubritorium’ at a service station in Beaconsfield
A town called Falmouth on the east coast of Tas. You should hear the language of the locals!