Louise Southerden drives a campervan up the east coast of Tasmania sampling cheeses, fresh seafood and Australia’s best beachesEvery road trip has a recipe: a list of ingredients, a map of the territory to explore, an intention. The recipe for ours was simple: two people, Tasmania’s pristine east coast (which we’d travel from south to north, saving the best for last) and one environmentally friendly campervan, which we’d blend together for five glorious days until satiated.
The ‘preparation’ began on the Spirit of Tasmania. We’d picked up our self-contained KEA campervan - shower, toilet, flatscreen TV and DVD player included - in Melbourne. Now we were crossing Bass Strait headed for Devonport on Tasmania’s north coast, in style.
Travelling on the Spirit is like a 10-hour cruise sampler. Or a dream. After sunset drinks on an outside deck, dining on fresh Tasmanian ocean trout in the à la carte restaurant, we retired to our deluxe cabin and woke up the next morning - in Tasmania.
You could spend a week travelling from Devonport to Hobart but we took the four-hour direct route and were in Hobart, perusing the shops of Salamanca Place, by lunchtime. In Klektik Japanese store, we got chatting to the friendly owner Jim Williamson who gave us some sound advice: the best way to see Tasmania is to sample the produce, talk to people and buy wares made from local artists and artisans. “You can’t just sit back and observe,” Jim told us. “You have to eat and drink Tasmania.”
We took Jim’s advice as soon as possible by stopping at Sorell’s Fruit Farm, 20 minutes north-east of Hobart en route to the coast. Every summer (October-May) 85,000 people come to pick their own apples, raspberries and other fruits. There was something earthy about crouching between rows of the biggest, juiciest strawberries we’d ever seen, chatting with other first-time pickers from all over the world in the bright Tasmanian sunshine.
Back on the A3, the road that would take us all the way up the east coast, our kilo of fresh strawberries safely stowed, we set the GPS for Coles Bay in Freycinet National Park. Coles Bay is famous as the gateway to one of the 10 best beaches in the world.
To see what all the fuss is about, we opted for a three-hour (return) scramble up Mt Amos. At first we couldn’t see anything but Oyster Bay, flecked with whitecaps by the howling wind, which gave it the appearance of a dark blue lamington. Then the clouds parted like curtains on a stage to reveal what we’d really come to see: the true and perfect arc of Wineglass Bay.
Our first night’s stop was 22km north of Coles Bay but still within the national park. The friendly beaches are the wild side of Freycinet. Even from inside the van, we could hear the roaring surf while wallabies and pademelons (football-sized wallabies) loitered outside.
After breakfast, we headed north to Bicheno, a penguin/surfing/fishing town just 15 minutes away. The Foreshore Walk led us to the town’s Blowhole where we stood under its chilly cape of spray. At night you can see penguins come ashore, but the day was gloomy so we drove on, past Douglas Apsley National Park and sheep-dotted hills.
The road hugs the sea in a close embrace almost the entire way from Bicheno to St Helens (76km), but we had pancakes on our minds so we took the inland route via Mt Elephant Pancake Barn, which promises “the best pancakes in Australia”.
It wasn’t long before we hit the largest town on the east coast. St Helens is the kind of place where you’ll find ladieswear, souvenirs and a Westpac branch all in the one store but it’s best known for its seafood, so our first port of call was Salty Seas co-op. This is the real deal: live fish in tanks, tiger and king prawns, mussels and squid. It was all we could do to walk out with just a dozen oysters.
After a lazy afternoon in Binalong Bay, 10km north-east of St Helens, wandering the southern end of the legendary Bay of Fires, we had pre-dinner Cascade beers and melt-in-the-mouth oysters at our van’s outdoor table and chairs. Then we crossed the road to Angasi, one of Tasmania’s finest restaurants for the main course: Hapuka fish and smoked wallaby, with glasses of regional wines: a 42º South Grigio and Pipers Brook Estate Pinot Noir.
This is one of the best things about being in a campervan: saving on accommodation allows you to treat yourself on a regular basis. There’s also the accommodation itself. Next morning, after free-camping at The Gardens, just north of Binalong Bay, we flung open the rear doors of the van and there was the ocean, like a third person at our breakfast table.
Tasmania is tailor-made for road trips. Everything is so close together, it’s easy to take an entire day to drive not far at all.
On Day 3, for instance, we found four good reasons to stop in just 35km: an antique shop full of pre-loved books and treasures (The Shop in the Bush); the 120-year-old Pub in the Paddock where we could feed beer to a pig called Priscilla; St Columba Falls, site of one of Tassie’s highest waterfalls; and Pyengana cheese factory, where we added to our larder with a block of their iconic Tasty Cheddar and some quince paste.
For a small island, Tasmania is a big place, and it was about to get bigger.
After buying fuel (and fresh scallops) at the only service station in Gladstone, we headed into Tasmania’s ‘Far North East’. This was a side of Tasmania I’d never seen before: it could have been outback NSW. On good dirt roads, we were led past settlements such as Rushy Lagoon where men in folding chairs lifted beer to wave hello, and black cows grazed on lush green grass.
Our destination was Stumpys Bay in Mt William National Park where you’re virtually guaranteed sightings of Tasmanian Forester Kangaroo at dusk.
The next day, we retraced our steps 20-odd kilometres and took another dirt road to Eddystone Point lighthouse and what Tourism Tasmania calls “the finest picnic spot in the state”. On a blue-sky day like this, it’s spectacular: rocks coloured bright orange by lichen, glassy rock pools and views to a long white sweep of beach (the northern end of the Bay of Fires) that seemed to be calling our names.
We drove back along the road a little way and then walked across a Sahara of glaringly white dunes to one of the most beautiful beaches I’ve ever seen.
Small, perfectly formed waves broke gently on the sand and endangered hooded plovers stood on rounded rocks. We stripped to our swimmers and ran into the sea, squealing like children. Wandering back to the van after a couple of hours swimming and playing, amazed at having had such a place all to ourselves, I thought, “This is Tasmania. This is what I came to the north-east for.”
Heading north to Devonport and the Spirit of Tasmania terminal for the trip home, we decided there was time for one last picnic - at Warrawee Forest Reserve, just outside La Trobe.
At a picnic table under tall gum trees, we spread out all the edible souvenirs we had collected on a tea towel ‘tablecloth’ and enjoyed them heartily. It seemed a fitting end to our delectable road trip along Tasmania’s delicious east coast.
Open Road March/April 2008
4WD
