Tassie Take Two: Wallabies, Opossums, and Wombats Oh My!

More fantastic Tassie marketing lured us to Port Arthur, a former convict settlement about 90 minutes southeast of Hobart.  Port Arthur was Australia’s largest and most harsh penal colony.  Between 1833-1853 the hardest of convicted British and Irish criminals were sent there to do hard time never to return to their homes and families in the UK.  The prison was abandoned in 1877 and the prisoners that remained were referred to as worthless old men and were released into Hobart society – good time to be a Tasmanian living in Hobart huh!  During Port Arthur’s 44 years as a prison over 1100 inmates died and are buried on a tiny island in the Port Arthur Harbor called the Isle of the Dead – creepy.  Tasmanians were haunted by the dark images of Port Arthur for many years, but it has since been embraced as the top tourist attraction in Tasmania, and one of the top ten in all of Australia.  Unfortunately this land was marked with recent tragedy too; in 1996 a gunman went on a killing spree in and around the Port Arthur historic area and killed 35 people and wounded 21 others.  I found this far more disturbing than the prison itself.     

We locked the boys up.

COLD!

With that background we were not overly impressed with Port Arthur.  The doom and gloom of this place wasn’t very uplifting.  Also it was cold, rainy, and muddy and our guided tour was naturally outside.  We also heard maybe every other word of our tour guide because we were busy herding cats, otherwise known as Parker and Reid.  Also, Alcatraz is WAY cooler.

Happy Birthday Parker!

The next day was Parker’s 5^th birthday.  We decorated the less than  lovely apartment we rented in Hobart with balloons and a sign – this was a BIG hit - and we gave him a few small presents that fit into our suitcase from Auntie Cailin and Mark and me.  We also showed him pictures we took of his big presents at home: a boogie board, wet suit, mask, snorkel and fins.  This was a big mistake.  He began a barrage of whining and complaining about wanting to go home to Manly that continued throughout the trip.  Thankfully one of his presents from Auntie Cailin and Eadan was a sports sticker book where you dress-up the sports players who are in their skivvies with the proper uniforms and equipment.  This gave us many hours of solitude, but the book was completed within 2 days, so we were back to square one, which was more whining about wanting to go home to see his presents.  Nonetheless, happy birthday to my first born who through his whines and complaints is still my baby.

We left Hobart after a fantastic birthday breakfast at a café in Salamanca Square where you can eat breakfast, do your laundry, AND play chess with life-size chess pieces.  We ate all but one meal while in Hobart at different restaurants in Salamanca Square – it became a safe tourist haven for us.  Other than Salamanca Square, Hobart was kind of a snooze.  We were happy to depart. 

We loaded the Simba car and headed out, our destination, Cradle Mountain, where we would stay at the Cradle Mountain Lodge and Spa for 3 nights.  Friends of ours recommended we visit Tasmania solely for the purpose of visiting Cradle Mountain and staying at the Lodge.  They told us stories of sitting on their balcony at sunset sipping Tasmanian Sparking Wine (which Tassie is known for) and watching the kangaroos and wombats grazing about.  This is what I wanted!  I was dying to get out and see some animals.  Also, knowing our next destination was a spa we were anxious to make massage appointments – that one-hour massage would be our vacation. 

Upon arrival Cradle Mountain Lodge was exactly what I imagined; rustic, outdoorsy, rugged - wood lodge, mountainous backdrop, and COLD!  I could see the boys’ breath as they exhaled.  Again, SO glad we bought the beanies!  I could see by the look on Mark’s face that he was thinking what I was; we should have skipped Hobart and come straight here.  There were hikes galore from the Lodge, 2 restaurants, a store, and NATURE.  We were staying in a family cabin about a 10-minute walk from the main lodge.  There were 2 family cabins in each building with its own fire log heap at the entrance – good sign for us, we LOVE the camping setting and building fires.  It was like camping, but with the comforts of a wood burning fireplace, warm bed, fridge, shower, jet bath and big balcony for animal viewing – so basically it’s not like camping at all, except that you’re in the wilderness.  We were happy to be there. 

On our fist night we had dinner at the Lodge Tavern - which would be our lunch and dinner locale for the next 6 meals - and on our walk back to our cabin we saw our first wild animal – the Tasmanian pademelon, which is a type of wallaby, which looks almost like a kangaroo, but is much smaller.  Elation was oozing from us - we were in the wilderness!

A brushtail opposum

We arrived at our cabin, put the boys to bed, and enjoyed a bottle of wine by the fireplace.  While sipping our wine I heard some scurrying on the deck and threw on my jacket to inquire.  There I found a critter, a brushtail opossum, but nothing like the opossums we’ve grown to know that are usually road kill, but a big furry opossum with a long tail.  He was just hanging on our deck looking for food I imagine.  I again was so excited to see some creatures; especially cute furry ones that I knew didn’t have rabies, since rabies doesn’t exist in Australia, (hence Bodi’s CRAZY quarantine).  The next night he came back and brought his mate.  Pretty optimistic little fellas coming back a second night when they didn’t get any food on the first.  Stay tuned for more brushtail opossum stories… 

WOMBAT!

Our first morning after a scrumptious buffet breakfast at the brisk hour of 7am – because our boys can’t sleep past 6:00! - we were walking back to our cabin before setting off on a walk to see some waterfalls and en route we came across WOMBATS!!!  I believe that ¾ of my fascination with wombats is because of Sarah – my wombat queen.  But really, wombats totally rock.  They’re the coolest animals!  Wombats are marsupials - like everything else in Australia - which means they keep their young in their pouch, but did you know, that because they’re diggers, their pouch faces the other direction than that of other marsupials?  So when they dig they don’t get dirt in their pouch!  How awesome is that?!  Wombats are cute, fearless, and fat little fuzzy things.  I could’ve sat there for at least an hour and just watched them.  I even got a little teary eyed to see a wombat in the flesh – something I never knew existed before I met Sarah in 1998.  I’m a simple gal…

We saw wombats several times over our stay in Cradle Mountain and it was equally exciting each time.  In fact, the last fuzzy mate we saw was downright hilarious.  He was crossing the road in front of us and as we saw him we of course said loudly, “Wombat!”  At this he stopped, turned his body 90 degrees - because apparently wombats don’t have peripheral vision - gave us a good looking over, turned his body back 90 degrees and continued on his way.  I like to imagine what he was thinking as he crossed our path, or rather when we crossed his path…”You got any food?  Nah, you look empty handed.  I’m outta here.”  If you haven’t read, “Diary of a Wombat” you HAVE to, (Dak, don’t worry, I have a copy for you). 

Getting their hike on.

The hikes we journeyed on were incredible, and with each consecutive hike Parker and Reid became more adept and moaned and groaned less.  We haven’t hiked with the boys in several months, so needed to reset their expectations, and ours.

Some of my fondest memories as a child were hiking and camping, which we did a lot.  What else do you do with four kids, three of them VERY active boys?!  Throw them into the wilderness, which we were fortunate to have at our backdoor.  If we weren’t camping in Gualala, Sonoma Mountain, or Hendy Woods, we were hiking in Muir Woods, Mt. Tamalpais, Pt. Reyes, or Helen Putnam.  It’s when I remember liking my brothers the most, and us fighting the least.  Nature grounded us and brought calm to a chaotic, energetic, boisterous family – or exhausted the bedlam for a time. 

Reid in the dense forest.

I channel these warm memories when we take the boys hiking.  I realize they’re young, but never too young to learn and appreciate the gift of fresh air, little sound, and the crunch of dirt trail underfoot.  We took several cold hikes while on Cradle Mountain.  (Have I mentioned it was 45/50 degrees if that?!)  We hiked through lichen-strewn forests with dense mossy undergrowth; it looked like mounds of fallen trees with vibrant green carpet covering the forest, it was spectacular.  We hiked to two different waterfalls that made Reid shout with an excitement usually reserved for ice cream and new toys.  We made Parker stop and listen to the sounds of the forest, asking him to explain what he heard – he didn’t get this at first - but when he heard the trees creaking in the breeze and the whistle of the leaves he understood that the slightest sound can be heard in the forest.  As we approached the waterfalls we made him stop and take note of the sound that grew as we moved closer to the water.  I think I saw a light bulb go off above his head.  Did he get the beauty and spiritual aspect of nature?!  Or was I delusional like Steve Martin in the movie Parenthood who dreams of a future Ivy League valedictorian speech while his son is 8 years old?  We all have those delusional daydreams, right?!    

The rickshaw.

Anyway, while we were giving Parker the gift of nature, we were giving Reid the gift of Princedom (he’s living up to his “Prince” middle name).  Mark was his chariot or rickshaw driver, and Reid soaked it up.  He did walk some of the way, but needed to be leading the charge while on foot.  Reido’s personality is boiling, bubbling and oozing at present.  He makes eyes at every stranger that comes his way; batting his big round brown eyes and plush eyelashes, and looking out of the corners of his eyes as his dimples sparkle – he’s working it.  In fact we’ve taught him to say, “I work it, I work it.  I live it, I live it.”  Mark and I question how so much personality can live in such a tiny person.  He makes us laugh all day long.

Our big 5 year old also cracks us up, and drives us insane.  He continues to ask constant questions and then tells us we’re wrong when we give him the correct answer.  For example, “Mommy, what’s the biggest whale?”  “I believe it’s the blue whale Parker,” I respond.  “No, it’s not the blue whale, it’s the sperm whale.”  He tells us he knows ‘everything there is to know about everything,’ and his second favorite thing to do, next to playing sports, is watching himself play sports in his shadow or the reflection of a window.  Mark has also taught him to play chess and when Mark isn’t around to play with him he sometimes plays on the iPad.  He knows I don’t know how to play so he narrates the game as he goes, for my benefit of course, “Mommy, the king can move in any direction but only 1 space at a time.  The knight can move 2 spaces forward and 1 to the side.”  I obviously have no idea whether he’s correct or not, so I just remark, “That’s great P, I hope you’re thinking your moves through before you make them,” because that’s advice I heard Mark give.  Then he says, “Mommy, I can teach you how to play chess because I know everything about chess.”  Is it normal for a 5 year old to think he knows everything already?!  I thought I had a few years until that happened. 

Anyway, I digress on my boys.  Next stop Freycinet, Tasmania.  Stay tuned…