The Huon Valley Part 2

The nice thing about having a base, is it’s so much easier to explore. The long weekend warriors dribbled out of the campground on Monday and ‘normal transmission’ was resumed. We had two days left and after a brief conflab over breakfast, decided to explore Hastings Caves and ‘take the waters’ at the adjacent hot springs.

We had seen caves before, but these were not your usual limestone caves but dolomite caves. “And???”, you say. Well, your average limestone cave is about 1,000,000 years old. Hastings (dolomite) Cave is estimated at 60,000,000 years old. Not hard to imagine how large and stunning the stalactites and stalagmites would be by comparison. Set in a rainforest, the cave was first discovered by timber getters. The walkway to the cave entrance is bordered by huge trees and remnants of the loggers work can still be seen.

The natural displays in side the caves were amazing. However, unique blind fauna inside the caves meant that artificial lighting was kept on to a minimum. This was unfortunate, as a more professional approach to the lighting could have made some of the features REALLY stunning without compromising the wildlife.

Hasting Caves also boasts a hot springs pool. ‘Hot’ is probably generous, but if it’s only eight degrees out, it would feel soooo good in. Still, the day was warm and sunny and after climbing up and down 500 steps, it was good to stretch out and enjoy weather we couldn’t have imagined before we boarded our boat back in Geelong.

Ken was particularly energized after his soak, so we headed to Southport looking for Optus coverage (lol) and the southern most coffee cart in Australia. Rocket@the End of the Road is the only cafe and foodery in Southport and, literally, at the end of the road. Coffee was great and we headed back to camp.

Paddy Melons are a small type of wallaby, not unique to Tassie, but very common. How do I know……roadkill. It seems like running over Paddy Melons is a natural consequence of driving anywhere south of Hobart. Having seen their attempts to avoid slow moving traffic in and around Cockle Creek, their not the brains trust of the macropods. Every couple of kilometres you drive over or around these now ex-paddy melons. I think ‘patty’ melon would be a more apt name.

Ken is some kind of gastronome (now THAT’S a segue!!) Unbeknown to me, he had been eyeing off the oysters in Cockle Creek. While I was taking an explore out to the point, armed with a hammer and screwdriver, Ken was busily removing the local delicacies from their hiding place. Now, I’m not the expert here, but he assured that that they were truly magnificent specimens. After some serious schucking, there was enough for entree and oyster soup. Having a chef as travelling companion – I’m really getting to like it.

Summer disappeared within an hour as the clouds closed in and the wind chilled. It was a not so subtle reminder that this brooding island has teeth. Timing is everything. We’d seen the rain coming and checked out just after 8am the next morning.

The rain chased us to Geeveston and a free camp next to the ‘Rissole’. Storms rolled through and later that night fog settled in. I can’t remember the last time I saw fog and for no good reason, took a stroll at 4am to see if I could make something of it. The town was a bit too ambitious away, but the ANZAC memorial at the end of the street stood out in the eerie darkness.

A few hours later, the skies had cleared and we headed for Hobart.