My "Working" Holiday Here are some of the amazing things that I have done during my time Down Under. Share in my experience by reading my articles or viewing my photo galleries.

Separated from mainland Australia by the Bass Sea, Tasmania is home to dramatic coastlines, rugged mountains, beautiful beaches, friendly people, unique wildlife, and good wine. The cool crisp air allows grapes of all kinds to flourish for fantastic wines, both red and white. Its weather while a little volatile, it only lends itself to some of the most picturesque scenery I've come across. Roughly the size of West Virginia, over a third of Tasmania is designated as a National Park or Wilderness World Heritage Area. It has something for everyone from art galleries and music for the creative types, to hiking, cycling, and kayaking for the outdoors enthusiast, to birds and beasts for the nature lovers, to fragrant wines and savory seafood for the foodies.

Aborigines walked across the land bridge from Australia over 40,000 years ago, but became isolated as sea levels rose during the last Ice Age. European explorers visited the island during the 17th and 18th centuries trading flour, tobacco, tea, and dogs for seal and kangaroo skins and women. As with other parts of Australia, soldiers, settlers and convicts were sent to unknown lands, claiming them as their own. But it was not until 1803 when the British settled in the southern part of the island that the assault on the Aboriginal tribes began. Abducting children for forced labor, raping and torturing women, and shooting whole tribes, the Aboriginal population was reduced to nearly nothing. Those who survived were forced further inland to fend for themselves in the wild bush. Since the European invasion, Tasmanian Aboriginal people have fought long and hard not only to survive, but also to preserve their culture and heritage. In 1977, the Tasmanian Aboriginal Information Service lodged a petition now known as the Aboriginal Land Claim to preserve their sacred sites, artifacts, and their heritage. After years of hard work and protests, their efforts finally paid off and in 1995 twelve parcels of land were returned to their rightful owners.

Hobart, Tasmania's capital city stretches along the banks of the Derwent River and the foothills of Mount Wellington. The harbor welcomes the sailboats that have survived the grueling Sydney to Hobart Challenge held every March. Every Saturday, the town comes to life at the Salamanca Markets where vendors sell everything from fresh produce to arts and crafts to hats, gloves, and scarves made from Tasmanian wool to keep you warm. Further down the road is historic Battery Point where art galleries, antique stores, cafes, and national trust buildings preserve life as it was over a century ago. Southeast of Hobart lies the convict ruins of Port Arthur where over 12,500 prisoners suffered through “silent” punishment and flogging. Also the site of Australian’s largest massacre, where on April 28, 1996, 38 people were killed and another 15 wounded by a local named Martin Bryant. The killing spree resulted in stricter Australian gun laws. Maybe the US should look into this, but enough on that subject. Sadly as my time in Tasmania was limited, I was not able to visit the historic Port Arthur or the Cadbury Chocolate Factory.

Heading up the east coast, winding my way through the Coal River Valley Wine Region I arrived in the historic village of Richmond. The town is home to St John’s Catholic Church and the Richmond Bridge, the oldest functioning Roman Catholic Church and bridge in all of Australia. The bridge was built from sandstone by convicts being held at the Richmond Gaol and is said to be haunted. As I made my way to Freycinet National Park, I was reminded of the south island of New Zealand. Rolling hills flush with green, herds of sheep grazing, and when close enough a spectacular view of the rock cliffs giving way to the Tasman Sea. The park is situated on a peninsula and offers everything from hiking in the pink and grey granite peaks of the Hazards, swimming in picturesque saphire blue Wineglass Bay, bushwalks, and going for a paddle (kayaking) in Great Oyster Bay. Bicheno (pronounced bee-shino), a short 20-minute drive north, is the quaint seaside and whaling village I stayed in while exploring Freycinet. Last but not least on my east coast tour was the Bay of Fires. Stretching from Binalong Bay to the lighthouse at Eddystone point, are 30 kilometers of pristine white sand beaches, crystal blue water, and lichen covered rocks that glow orange in the setting sun, nature’s palate. Nearby St Helens is the game fishing capital of Tasmania.

Making my way west and inland towards Cradle Mountain, I drove the winding roads of the northeast forests. And despite the mere 150 kilometers to Launceston, Tasmania's second largest city, it took just under three hours to make the trip. After a not so restful night in one of the hostels but a good meal in town, I headed out to complete the final two hours of the journey. Unfortunately, Cradle Mountain ended up being the biggest disappointment of my trip. Due to the crazy Tassie weather mentioned above, a fog so thick I could barely see my hand in front of me settled in as I drove to the mountain. I had planned on a bit of hiking around Dove Lake and Cradle Mountain, but was instead "forced" to endure 90 minutes of pampering. While I normally don't indulge in such guilty pleasures as my tickle factor has a low threshold, my Huon Hot Stone Massage at the Waldheim Spa was just what the doctor ordered. The treatment included massage oil infused with cypress, pine, and cedar as well as heat from volcanic stones to relax the muscles and release the tension and stress before a full body massage. I filled the rest of my day with short walks around the Lodge, keeping my eye out for wombats and devils (I did cheat and stop at Devils@Cradle, a conservation sanctuary working to save the Tasmanian Devil from the devastating facial tumors that are slowing killing the species), and some reading by the fire. As the staff assured me that it would likely rain for the next three days, I was not hopeful. But just in case, I got up an hour early the next morning before flying back home, and I was rewarded with blue skies scattered with swift moving clouds and rays of sunshine. When I finally got to see the mountain, it was beautiful. Definitely a place that I’ll break my “travel rule” for (never go back to the same place twice until you've seen the world), so that I can do the 5 day Overland Track from Cradle Mountain to Lake St Clair National Park.

All in all, Tassie is an unspoiled beauty not to be missed. But don't forget to throw your esky (cooler) in the car, as you’ll want to eat your way through the island from oysters and mussels to fresh berries and homemade cheeses. See for yourself in Hobart, The Colors of Freycinet, Bicheno, I "Lichen" It, and Cradle Country. As you can see I've become quite adept at self picture taking. Just one of the perils of solo travel I have conquered.