Tasmania - Human Connections
February 8 - 12, #23
Having now lived for 3 months on the road, every day still felt like a vacation - in the sense that you bring with you, just what you need, until its time to return to “real life”. Back home, you have networked in all the personal services and contacts you need to take care of “life stuff”. Now thousands of miles away from our network, and our “home” on wheels, the time to deal with “life stuff” for the first time in another country was growing closer. Yet, we still had no idea what it would take to make that stuff happen. Instead, we rode to the center of town to take care of the simple consumer stuff, replaced my sleeping mat, restocked on repair supplies and stopped at a place for brunch, before riding the next 27 kilometers to Snug Beach.
A Rush Hour Commute
It was mid-afternoon when we finally left the city via the Channel Highway, and quickly realized our timing could have been better. Not only was it Friday afternoon, we later found out, it was also the start of another long weekend, Royal Hobart Regatta. To top it off, as much as I had hoped our coastal route would mean less hills - that was not the case.
Hobart and the surrounding residential areas are perched all along the hillsides. And so, we climbed, on a narrow, winding, two-lane highway in rush hour traffic with barely a shoulder - glancing briefly at the stunning views across the bay in between the hillside neighborhoods. After being passed by more than one parent commuting home on a cargo e-bike with their kiddos, going up the hill like it was no big deal, we stopped in the parking lot at the historic Shot Tower to take a breather and regroup before braving the long descent with no shoulder, into the suburb of Kingston.
Perfect Timing for a Chance Meeting
Somehow, reaching the edge of the suburb shopping district seemed more stressful than navigating through downtown. Maybe because it was nearing 5pm and holiday shoppers, mixed with end-of-the-week commuters, compounded the stress bouncing off the bitumen. We were heads down riding through the last few meters of the shopping district on the bright-green strip of bike lane intended to keep us safe - centimeters away from a string of parked vehicles to our left and a non-stop stream of moving vehicles to our right - when a man in overalls and a floppy brimmed hat started calling out to us from the sidewalk, asking us questions we normally answer while off our bikes, not in the midst of riding in rush hour traffic. I attempted to answer back while still pedaling, as he made his way toward us through the parked cars. Realizing he was making quite the effort to have a conversation, I spotted an open parking spot and we pulled over.
As comical as it seemed, this fine gentleman that chased us down, changed the course of our travels over the next couple months in ways we never could have imagined, providing us with exactly what we needed through a chain of beautiful and yet so simple human connections. It was as if the universe understood, we need continual reminders that our needs will be met, no matter where in the world we find ourselves. My rational side says - well, it won’t always be this way - and yet, thus far, life is proving me wrong, and I am grateful beyond words.
Standing in the open parking space, in a matter of minutes, we had an enticing invitation to come and stay at his farm a few more kilometers down the road from the caravan park we had booked that evening. We were so ready to be done with balancing our lives on the edge of bitumen, while vehicles whizzed past us, so we opted to keep our booking, but agreed to stop by on our way to Bruny Island ferry.
Snug Beach - view of Bruny Island
Eucalypt Artistry
Setting our Course
The next day, I wanted nothing to do with the highway. Nivaun found an alternate route on a gravel road with a longer climb which this time sounded perfect. We rode happily over the rutty backroad and cruised down the other side until we reached the turnoff to the farm. After resorting to pushing a few meters, we rounded the corner to see our host standing alongside the gate to his paddock with three dogs at his side. We rolled across the grassy field, past the dam (pond), home to the lone duck, and parked up under the shelter next to the wood-fired pizza oven and fire pit. We were invited to stay over to join them for dinner the following night. Grateful for their hospitality, we welcomed having a rest day before catching the ferry to Bruny.
North Bruny Island
The next night over a home-cooked dinner we met his wife and learned more of their shared adventures across Tasmania and beyond. It was wonderful to see a reflection of their passion for everything nature has to offer, fostered between them over the years. Before we left, our hosts had connected us with their friends on North Bruny giving us the opportunity to experience the personal-side of North Island life before we headed south.