Confessions of a Tasmaniac

Wendall -- every other Thursday

My husband and I have just made our reservations for our return to Tasmania, the first time traveling back since the pandemic, so I thought I would revisit my very first MIE post ever, about how much I love the Australian island and how inspiring it's always been for me. 

In Hobart's Botanic Gardens.

Michael Sears's most recent “Jurassic Park:Tasmania” post threw me back to my times there, so today I’m offering a companion piece about own “Days of Wine and MONA.”  

 

I’ve been very lucky in my working life to have spent a lot of time in Europe and in the South Pacific, teaching and mentoring filmmakers. Through those travels, I’ve managed to pick up, among other things, fifty-five Clairefontaine notebooks, a glut of commemorative coffee mugs, a husband, and a lot of great earrings. I’ve also found inspiration for almost everything I’ve ever written, one way or another.

 

After multiple work trips to Melbourne, I’d had some great meals, grabbed a few hours in museums, and made a half-day trip up the Great Ocean Road, but in terms of experiencing Australia, that was about it. So on my next trip I was determined to see more. When I found Tasmania was only an hour by plane from Melbourne, my husband James and I decided to use our last two days and one night there. 

First view from our seats

It’s probably the first place I’ve ever gone just because I loved the name. I made a random hotel booking, and off we went, with our day packs, to the Apple Isle, and my second book, Drowned Under, was born.

 

From the minute we saw Hobart harbor, we were smitten, especially because we had lucked into a hotel with the view below. 

Our view from the Grand Chancellor Hotel

As we headed for the harbor, we noticed a mural of what I thought was a dog with stripes. I was taken by the image.

We toured the wharves, visited the Cruise terminal, and found the Drunken Admiral restaurant, just our style, with a huge cooking pot outside. You can see what happened, here. 

These shenanigans were soon eclipsed by our near-arrest. James is obsessed with exploration. If there were a Shackleton Channel, he would subscribe. That’s why he suddenly ran towards an electrified chain link fence and pulled on the gate. He was trying to get to the Antarctic icebreaker on the other side. Just as the security lights came on and I heard imaginary sirens, a lovely man yelled down and said “Want to come see?” That was Gerry, the ship's Captain. He and James are now friends.

James in front of the highly guarded Aurora Australis

We visited the legendary Salamanca market, including the memorable Déja

Vu Books,

 

lots of wine bars, 

A fine Tasmanian Shiraz, as I recall

as well as more representations of what someone finally told me was a Tasmanian tiger.

That night, we had more fabulous food and wine and the next morning, before we had to leave, we visited two museums just blocks from our hotel. The Maritime Museum featured, among many other things, an ancient diving suit, a pictorial history of cruise ships to the island, as well as plenty of figureheads.

Less than a block away was the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery. 

It was a fabulous concept, to see art amongst the taxidermy and ancient pottery. 

James's shadow in front of a video installation

Then, we walked into the Thylacine Gallery. There I found the mythic animal that I’d been seeing everywhere. The tragic story of this indigenous animal, now “functionally extinct,” was particularly sad because the government had paid farmers and hunters to kill them, seeing them as a threat to livestock. This tiger broke my heart, as did the photos of their cubs.

I couldn't get these images out of my mind

As we flew home I thought about how my publisher was interested in my second Cyd Redondo book taking place on a cruise ship. Hobart had cruise ships. And the series was focused on endangered animals. What was more endangered than an animal that was “functionally extinct”? 

 

The book, Drowned Under, would be set in Tasmania. I had to come back. Our second trip, in some ways, was even better. I was able to visit the defunct zoo, where the last thylacine died and the surrounding Botanic Gardens.

Legendary Beaumaris Zoo beside the Botanic Gardens

Our new friend Gerry arranged a private two hour tour of the icebreaker. James practically had a conniption fit.

 

We had fabulous rosemary cocktails at the Frogmore Bar on the harbor.

And then we visited MONA, the privately owned Museum of Old and New Art, which was completed by Tasmanian millionaire David Walsh in 2011 and is built underneath a vineyard, a ferry ride away from Hobart. 

The outside of the MONA Ferry

The inside of the ferry

It’s one of the most extraordinary places I have ever been. The tables in the restaurant consisted of glassed-over pieces of rare earth, the ones outside made of grass. 

The Source Restaurant inside

The Source Restaurant outside

The cavernous layers of the museum are both stunning and alarming. None of my pictures quite captured the feeling, but the two James Turrell installations are not to be missed. 

Inside one of the James Turrell installations

Outside one of the James Turrell installations

I’ll always be grateful I went to the ends of the earth, and came back with a book.

--Wendall