A VERY TASSIE CHRISTMAS
All stocked up and ready to go, we decided to head off a few days before Christmas,
in search of the perfect location to spend our first Christmas on the road in a memorable location in Tasmania. We wanted somewhere peaceful, so decided to take the inland road towards Hobart. In the end, we were definitely secluded, but there is a story to be told along the way.
MORE MARKETS
We started off at Evendale, and believe it or not, Evendale has Markets. Every Sunday! And believe it or not, Michelle wanted to go to them. So, here we were at Market number #256 for the trip. At least this one was only a walk away from our camp site. We went over, and within 10 minutes the kids and I did the usual wander through the usual stores, while Mum did the full guided tour. We were lucky we were parked nearby so went back home to play. Three hours later, satisfied every market stall had been covered, Mother rocked back up with all our Christmas food, and a few items we will never use in our lifetime, but they must have been a bargain, or I am sure she would not have bought them. So, all stocked up we head south. Up until this point we had been driving about 30 to 50 km per day, and finding some magic spots to stay in. We were planning on today being no different.
CAMPBELLTOWN
The first stop we planned was at a little place called Campbell Town, about 30km south.
Rest area at Campbelltown
We thought we would sus it out. We pulled into the free camp there, had a look, but had mixed feelings. It was nice enough, but not really private and it looked like we would be sharing Christmas with too many other vans.
ROSS
So, after a quick lunch, we decided to push on. We drove through a small town called Ross, only 15km away. It was beautiful, exactly what we were after. A tree lined road on the way in, a peaceful looking town, and beautiful old convict buildings, but, as we were still new to this, we were adamant about finding a free camp. We pulled up beside one of the nicest caravan parks we had seen so far. Right on the river, shady trees all around, tranquil setting, and almost empty of other vans. We are both looking at the van park, neither of us saying much, but both with the same thoughts, i.e. ‘we should probably stay here the night.’ But then for no apparent reason, and in silence, we drove off and pushed on to the next spot, 40km south again.
OATLANDS
Oatlands, midway down to Hobart, and a beautiful town. After a 75km drive so far, we decided to stay here whether we like it or not. So we find the camp spot, beauty, its free, bad luck, we don’t fit. It was small, would not fit our rig, and had about four other vans there. And you could hear them thinking, ‘you ain’t gonna fit that big thing in here.’
KEMPTON
Next option, Kempton, 30 odd kilometres south again. We had to get it right this time, it was getting late in the day, the kids were getting restless, and we were keen to find the perfect spot for Christmas. So we get to Kempton, and we leave Kempton. A bit close to the road for the kids. Our dilemma now was that the next stop was either 45 km away in New Norfolk, just out of Hobart, or do we turn back about 75 km back to Ross. Henry answered the question with a scream, and Jade with a whine, and we decided the 45km option was the way to go. Not in the morning however, we decided to do it now. 5pm in the afternoon. We feed the kids with the emergency stash, and head off down the highway again. So far, Christmas preparations are going well.
We get to about 20km out of New Norfolk. The GPS goes haywire. Turn right it says, so I do, but there is no road marked on the GPS, I am driving in white space. I knew I should have paid for those new updated maps. ‘Gullo Stretto’ – (Italian for tight-arse) So now we are lost, we end up on a transport link out the back of no-where. Our escape route is either the highway north where we had just come from, or do a U-Turn. Now, our rig, bus and car, is almost 18m long, so doing a U-Turn is no easy feat, but I have been driving this thing for 3 months now, so my confidence levels are right up there. I decided to give it a crack, right before the turn to the highway and on a dead end road leading to a fruit shop. Low and behold, I DON’T MAKE IT!
Here I am, stopped in the middle of the road, blocking traffic with the Suzuki jack-knifed behind me. Out we get, unhitch the car, apologise to the traffic we are holding up, and casually pull over to the side of the road to let them all pass. Great stuff this.
So now, totally frustrated, lost and separated, we decide we will resort to old fashion navigation methods and follow the signs. It worked, several kilometres later we see the signs to New Norfolk, and we are on the right track. We are sure we have made the right choice. Even though there is no advertised free camp spot there, friends of ours who live nearby have told us there is a beautiful camp spot just on the river nearby.
So we head in towards New Norfolk, and there just as we enter the town is the Welcome sign,
“Welcome to New Norfolk – Established in 1807”
and a few hundred meters following that sign, another welcome sign.
“The Rebels MC welcomes you to their Annual Christmas Party – 23 Dec All Welcome”
Sure a bikie party, what an awesome Christmas treat. Thanks for the invite guys.
But, we are here now, just needed to find a spot and bunk down. Only trouble was we had no actual directions to the supposed camp spot. By this stage, I was tired, the kids were over tired and I at least was prepared to pay for a caravan park. We looked for the free camp for a while, and rang our friends, but they did not answer. Finally, the minister for finance bit the bullet and went to the caravan park, ready to check it out and book us in, she was just about to enter when our friends rang back. They were coming to fetch us and escort us to the other camp spot. We waited by the side of the road until our friends got there. We hadn’t seen them for a while, and were looking forward to doing so, but we hadn’t allowed for the fact they had been living in Tasmania for a few years now. So when they showed up in their PJ’s we just had to accept this is how things were done in these parts. But, PJ’s aside, we were grateful for their help and they escorted us to a spot just out of town at an old boat ramp, very secluded and quite. This will do we thought, too tired to look elsewhere.
By this stage it was 7.30pm and our friends kindly invited us back to their house for dinner. At 11.30pm, with two little people asleep in the back of the car, we headed back to our camp site. It had been a long day, but, it was not over yet. Our camp site is now in total darkness, it had that eerie feeling about it. It was right on the river, with one of those jetties you see heading out into the lake like in the American horror movies. This would normally have been OK, except for the fact the night before we watched a horror movie, called ‘Long Weekend.’ In short it was about a husband and wife that go camping for a long weekend on the southern coast of Victoria, they get lost, get haunted by a Dugong possessed by evil spirits, and eventually they both get killed.
So, Michelle is not feeling all that comfortable, the kids are in the back asleep and we decide to drive back into town in the Suzuki to look for another spot. We find another rest area, and go in to sus it out. We see another campervan, all looks good, we pull up beside, there is an old fella stumbling about in the dark. We pull up and Michelle tries talking to him only to realise he is as full as the last bus to leave Bondi. We drive down a bit further and catch a couple shagging on a park bench. Perhaps the haunted boat ramp was not a bad option.
The haunted campsite.
We head back to it, with neither of us sleeping a wink that night, in fear a Dugong possessed by evil spirits will drag itself out of the river and into our bus. We decide at midnight that in the morning we will head for the Mountains, it has to be safe there.
WE HEAD FOR THE HILLS
We then found a little place called Hamilton about 40km away, a perfect spot to hide out over Christmas, its inland so the temperature should be warmer and there will be no wind. It is also a stone’s throw away from Mt Field National park,and Russell Falls, one of the most spectacular waterfalls in Tasmania. So off we head at 7am next morning. Today will be a better day we thought.
So, we get to Hamilton. A gorgeous little town, population of about 200 people, and 20 buildings, nearly all built by convicts. As nice as it was, there was a slightly uneasy feeling about it that neither of us could explain. We found the free camp, right on the river, it looked great. But one small problem. The access was so steep, that if we went down, we weren’t coming back up. So, we parked at the top, happy to overlooking the country side.
Our campsite at Hamilton with nice views of the countryside
Finally, all was good, we were happy, Christmas is what you make it we thought. The kids were happy, the sun was out, it was warm for a change, and there was no wind. So we set up camp. We decided we would stay for four days to settle the kids, and went to the trouble of putting up the Annex. Thing is, we had not used the annex since the first week of our trip. And prior to that we had only seen it erected once. The last time we tried it, it took us over an hour, so we should get it done quicker this time. Yeah right. 2 hours later, we finally get the bloody thing up. Cursing and swearing helped, and certainly put me in the Christmas mood. But, after it was done, we were happy. Exhausted due to the day before, late night, early start. Michelle spent the next hour making it all look pretty. Christmas decorations, Christmas tree up, presents under the tree, camp chairs and table out. It looked great. We were all happy again. Exhausted we decided on an afternoon nap.
Our first Christmas Tree on the road
AND THEN CAME THE WIND AND RAIN….
I decided to sleep in the Annex, nice views and all, and was awoken about an hour later by water droplets on my feet. It was starting to rain. No problems we thought, glad we had put the annex up. The rain soon stopped and as it does in Tasmania, the wind picked up. And soon, we felt like it was Cyclone Tracey hitting again. Not a happy camper, I was determined to keep the annex up. “It’s taken 2 hours to get the bloody thing set up, I don’t care if it blows down.”
But, Mother Nature had other ideas. The front wall was the first to go, the wind was so strong, it bent the top rail of the awning. I was still resisting taking it down, deciding instead to just take down the front wall. We re-tied the front of the awning down thinking this would hold it, but the wind would not give up. The other wall was next to go, I got Michelle to hold on to the front of the awning while I tried to work out what to do. Now, my poor little wife, all 50 kilos of her, was no match for the wind, and resembling the Flying Nun, she literally ended halfway up onto the roof of our bus. A gust of wind took the whole awning and her with it and folded it back on itself. Michelle was hanging on for dear life, I was trying to keep the rest of it blowing away, the kids had no idea what was going on, thinking it was all fun and games. They soon realised they had to help, and getting their priorities right, quickly grabbed all their presents first and took them into the bus before coming back to pull their mother off the roof of the bus.
My frustration was growing, and my anger management classes came into their own. I used the release method, throwing the nearest tent post as far as I could and cursing the wind and Tasmania as much as I could, leaving Michelle to explain to the kids that daddy is showing you how they throw javelins at the Olympics. We then spent the next 2 hours cleaning up the mess, some the wind had made and the rest I had made. So four hours of our day so far was spent putting up the annex and then cleaning up the mess the wind and I made of it. I am sure we were the entertainment for the town folk.
We finally settled down and clambered into the bus, and wouldn’t you know it, we look outside and there is not a breath of wind. Not a leaf on a tree was moving. I swear when I poked my head outside I heard the trees laughing at me.
SANTA GETS A POLICE ESCORT
The next thing we hear was a Police siren. Great I thought, they saw my hissy fit and are coming to get me. Turns out it was Santa getting a Police escort around town to visit the kids on Christmas Eve. We asked each other why Santa would need a Police Escort in a town like this. But, the kids were happy, and the smiles on their faces made it all worthwhile. We had traveled over 200km to get to a deserted town in the middle of nowhere, spent 4 hours setting up and pulling down an annex, but they didn’t care. They got to see Santa.
And so we finally accepted the fact we would not have the awning up for Christmas, and were content in this deserted little town. And it is not till the next morning that we discover why it is deserted and why Santa needed a police escort. Bright and early we wake to the kids so excited that Santa had found us on the bus. We then call Nona & Nono, tell them where we are, and Nona, who is our only source of up to date news and current affairs, promptly informs us that Hamilton, was the location of a Double Murder last week. And so, here we are in Hamilton, feeling safe as houses, enjoying our first Christmas on the road.
Now, as it turns out, we really did enjoy it. We got our wish of peace and quiet, there was no one around other that a couple down on the river. The kids enjoyed a walk along the river, exploring the countryside, and a swim in sub-zero temperatures. We ate like Kings and got to play with the kids all day, we ate some more went to bed very happy and contented.
And, Hamilton is a great little town, and one that will remain in our memories forever as our First Tassie Christmas.
We hope you all have a Merry Christmas no matter where about’s you are spending it.
The kids had the best Christmas
[sc:Honky ]
