The East Coast, Unseen.

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I woke to a shroud of fog with splatters of rain, an invisible sea growling below our Air Bnb while invisible birds twittered in shadowy trees. We had a long breakfast in Bicheno, catching up with friends from Qld (yes, every man and his dog is here in Tasmania!), and set out on our way up the east coast.

Bicheno in the morning.

The word on the tourist street was that the east coast was a beautiful drive, a procession of stunning beaches and bays interspersed with equally stunning headlands, and detours inland over ranges dripping with temperate rain forest.

A break in the fog and rain, enough to reassure me that yes, there was a beach there.

 Dripping was right. Rain splattered against the windscreen and fog obscured every view. 


I took photos whenever there was something to look at, and sometimes when there wasn't.

Stunning vistas at Siderling Lookout.

We struggled to find a sheltered picnic table at which to lunch and when we did Roger caused himself terrible trauma by making a nice hot cup of coffee and then spilling it all over the cold concrete floor.

Whenever you stop, even if you hide in a shelter because it's raining, a seagull will find you.


With one of us grieving undrunk coffee we took a dodgy gravel road inland and crossed the Siderling Range. Down the other side of the valley was Launceston and beyond that Carrick where the Carrick Pub offered a very nice dinner. We settled in for the night with more friends, once Queenslanders and now honorary Tasmanians.  Hot chocolate was drunk, talk was talked. 

We all went to bed far too late.

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