Getting Out There

Wildlife rescue

Sun, 27 Sep 2026 16:32:14 +1000

Content warning:

Please note the following post contains descriptions and images of wildlife that have died, and may be distressing.

Whilst riding around the east coast of Tasmania in 2023, Danielle and I were shocked by how bad the roadkill situation is in Tasmania. One of the inexorable truths of bicycle touring in a country such as Australia — lots of crepuscular [crepuscular, adj.
occurring or active during twilight] wildlife in a heavily-automobile-reliant society — meant that we’re quite used to the sight (and smell!) of roadkill as we cycle past, but nothing could have prepared us for the sheer scale of the carnage on Tasmanian roadsides.

We stopped where we could to move the poor little pademelons and wallabies off the road — attempting to provide some shred of dignity of death by preventing the carcass being spread across the tarmac like a grisly condiment — sometimes with logging trucks bearing down on us and no safe place to get off the road we had to grit our teeth and ride on by.

Then one day soon after when driving up the hill to the in-laws’ in Hobart Sandy Bay [Danielle’s parents live in Sandy Bay, a suburb of Hobart, Tasmania, Australia.] we came across a little cuckoo on the nature strip, obviously in some distress. We got the little guy into a warm safe cardboard box, and took him to Bonorong Wildlife Sanctuary 30 minutes north of Hobart for care.

A little fire was started in our hearts that day, and when we got back home to Victoria we signed up as volunteers for Wildlife Victoria, a not-for-profit charity working to help wildlife in distress. It took a little while to get a training session¹, but we finally did our Basic Rescue and Transport training in August 2024 with a wonderful fellow volunteer named Grant.

Since that day, we have helped out on countless wildlife calls, for everything from kangaroos, echidnas, magpies, kookaburras, coots, rosellas, ibis, wallabies, possums, green tree frogs, cockatoos, galahs, ravens, lorikeets, swans, blue-tongued lizards, seagulls and ducks.

An Eastern Grey kangaroo joey named Alexander, who we rescued when Mum had to be euthanased.

Alexander, an Eastern Grey kangaroo joey now in care.

A displaced echidna roaming the suburban streets of Ballarat.

An echidna hit by a vehicle south-east of Ballarat. He was taken to Werribee Animal Hospital.

A ringtail possum joey we named Francis.

Another ringtail possum joey that sadly couldn’t survive without Mum.

A seagull chick rescued from the Ballarat Arts Precinct.

A tawny frogmouth hit by a vehicle and found in the front yard of a local property.

A pregnant blue-tongued lizard who was safely returned to habitat.

As we clocked up hours and cases, we’ve been given more advanced training and now we’re able to help macropods, raptors, and reptiles (but not snakes²).

Euthanasia

One of the sad realities of wildlife rescue work, especially with macropods, is the poor survival outcomes of kangaroos and wallabies that are hit by vehicles. If their legs are injured/broken, it is extremely difficult to successfully treat and rehabilitate a grown³ kangaroo. Kangaroos rely on their incredibly powerful lower limbs for everything. Life without them is painful at best, and the most humane course of action in these circumstances is euthanasia. We’ve trained to quickly and humanely end the suffering of these poor creatures — and death is instantaneous — but it is absolutely heart-wrenching each and every time. There is sometimes backlash from uneducated members of the public who might witness it, but I can tell you as someone who loves these creatures and is most times the guy who has to end their pain and feel the pumping of their heart wane with their death: nobody in wildlife rescue would do this unless there was no other option.

Wildlife Victoria is like any charity and can only support so many training sessions a year, and many have a waitlist. ↩︎
Australia has some very dangerous snakes, and although it’s a myth that Australia has the world’s deadliest snakes, one would not want to mess with our local serpentine friends. ↩︎
Grown, as in: not a joey. Even joeys are very difficult to treat for this kind of injury. ↩︎

Setting up iPad blog authoring workflows

Sun, 27 Sep 2026 13:12:00 +1000

Sitting here at my local laundromat trying to set up a blog authoring workflow on my iPad using Working Copy and iA Writer. The biggest issue I’ve had so far is not wanting to pull a few GB of images down from the GitHub remote, but still wanting to post an image via Git LFS.

Will update with my progress and may write up a blog post about how I set it all up at the end…

Dont ever use in HTML... err... Wrong!

Sun, 14 Apr 2024 17:59:06 +1000

If you’ve ever Google’d the humble HTML  tag, and read more than three of the results returned, you’ll have inevitably come across the hordes of self-righteous knobs on StackExchange berating people (especially those new to HTML/CSS) for using the tag. Their reason? It’s semantically-invalid HTML. They. Are. Wrong!

The key to the  tag, or even the  for that matter (but that’s a different post for another day) is that the usage is different than what you might expect…

b is the ~~Boldface~~ Bring Attention To element¹

The  HTML element is used to draw the reader’s attention to the element’s contents, which are not otherwise granted special importance. This was formerly known as the Boldface element, and most browsers still draw the text in boldface. However, you should not use  for styling text or granting importance. If you wish to create boldface text, you should use the CSS font-weight property. If you wish to indicate an element is of special importance, you should use the  element.

That does not necessitate being bold. That is a design decision separate to the semantic one. In days of yore, b meant Boldface. This is where the angst arises, because it is automatically assumed that you’re using  because you’re ignorant of .

I use this tag liberally across my site to mark up any text where I use a brand name, e.g. Google signifies that Google is a brand name, and then I do style it subtly differently (I switch out the serif font for the sans-serif and italicise) but importantly: that does not mean I am using it for that function. All I am doing by adding it to my HTML is saying that this text may need to be marked up as standing somewhat different to its surrounding context. What I do in the stylesheet afterwards is not a determinant of its validity as HTML markup.

My stylesheet declaring that

b.brand { font-family: sans-serif; font-style: italic; }
is purely decorative and has no semantic meaning to the original markup. I might decide one day to not treat brand names any different from the surrounding text, and if I was to remove that stylesheet, my markup would remain perfectly valid. Or I could just remove the font-style: italic style:

b.brand { font-family: sans-serif; font-style: italic; }
Some browsers still render  as bold,  as italicised, but that’s easily solved with a reset style in the root of your stylesheet, and it’s the browser’s fault and problem, not yours.

So the next time you get berated (or find yourself about to do the berating) take a moment to first discern the reason that page is marked up the way it is. Maybe drawing some attention to that element is correct, and you’re merely arguing about the stylistic choices of your fellows.

Definition from mdn web docs ↩︎

Rant:
Why the rant? I use all over the site and some goose had at me about it.

Why caravans are “The Enemy”

Wed, 03 Apr 2024 19:46:09 +1100

Caravans are The Enemy. Let me tell you why…

When my partner Danielle and I are out riding our bikes, we have a few shorthand ways to alert each other to various dangers, some of them obvious — like “truck!” or “dog!” — some of them little in-jokes known only to us:

Roo Fuckers

Massive utes on their way to a B&S Ball (or so they’d have us think!) fitted out with huge curving bullbars, spotlights, and bumper stickers that sport lovely slogans like My other ride is your daughter. The call “Roo Fucker!” alerts us to the presence of a 19-year-old twit on his way back from inhaling nangs after footy training, likely not paying attention (or caring if he does) to cyclists on the road.

Real Estate Agent

Massive utes, all shiny late-model Ford F150s or Raptors driven by R.M. Williams-wearing real estate agents and property developers. See: Roo Fuckers, but with money.

But my favourite, and the one we call out the most, because they are by far the most dangerous:

The Enemy

The Enemy is a bloke [Let’s face it: they’re always blokes!] pulling a huge house-deposit-on-wheels, fitted out with more appliances and creature comforts than his actual fucking house.

Because he either…

Tows this monstrosity to the nearest beach once a year, or

Doesn’t even own the thing but hired it on Camplify

…he has no earthly idea how wide the caravan is in relation to his SUV. So even if he’s a nicer sorta fella and gives the cyclist in front of him 1–1.5 metres of overtaking space, the nimrod has forgotten that the big box behind him can be just over half a metre wider [The maximum width in Australia for a caravan is 2.5m. A large SUV/ute is normally about 1.9m]. He isn’t used to the forces exerted by the 2–4 tonnes he’s towing as he rounds bends, et cetera so he is wobbling all over the place. The kids are screaming in the back seat because the movie screens in the chair headrests have blacked out and little Kayden and Brittanee are now bored shitless at having to engage with the real world without Bluey.

I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve been buzzed very closely by a caravan that didn’t even bother to give me the metre, and I can just about smell the cheap paint as it breezes by.

When the call of “The Enemy” rings out, we pull off the road altogether as we would a logging truck in north Tasmania.

I’d much rather share the road with a 26-metre-long B-Double semi-trailer, because they are driven by somebody who is

trained in how/licensed to drive them

(normally) focused on the road because they’re working

accountable and constantly checked for fatigue, safe load limits, etc.

in the case of an interstater, unwilling to lose their logbook and be forced off the road for weeks, maybe months on end, when a cyclist goes under their wheels, fault or not

but most importantly, they usually know how wide their fucking truck is.

It seems counter-intuitive, and yes trucks are just inherently dangerous and shouldn’t be in the same space as bicycles, but I’ve found the drivers themselves to be as accommodating as they can be. [Perhaps not the Tassie logging trucks, although even then there were many that did their best with a shit road infrastructure.]

“But not all caravanners!”

It’s true, there are some grey nomads who’ve been towing for years and can handle their van better than I handle my loaded bike. Some are Boomers who won’t give the space to a cyclist regardless, but many are just your decent Aussie retiree, not in a hurry so not driving aggressively, just getting around this beautiful country and loving their post-work life. These guys aren’t the target of this rant.

If you’re a proud caravan owner reading this and thinking I’m a flog, that’s OK: Go prove me wrong and be nice to your fellow road warriors, albeit the ones with less wheels.

Caravan “share” services/apps

This absolutely terrifies me and should be heavily regulated. These drivers are even less suitable for towing a caravan than someone who has actually invested some time and money and thus has skin in the game. Nope. Just open the app, a few hundred bucks later, you’re towing four tonnes! I’ve always thought caravans should require a special license like a truck does (it’s mind-boggling that they don’t) but these new services just cement that opinion.

If you want an idea of just how idiotic Australian rules are, just read this passage celebrating our lax regulations over on a caravan sales site:

What that means is that a person in Australia with a car licence can tow anything from a light camper behind a small SUV, to a big braked caravan weighing up to 7000kg, hitched up to a light truck with a GVM of 4495kg, without any special training or qualifications.

Yay! They even go on to tell you that…

Can I enjoy a bevvy while touring around? Yes, although it’s not advisable. Towing a caravan requires more skill and concentration than single-vehicle driving so you want to keep your wits about you at all times. Best wait until you’re all set up for the night before you crack a cold one.

Yes Trevor, that would not be advisable.

Boggy Creek to the Snowy River — East Gippsland Rail Trail, Day 2

Sat, 30 Mar 2024 18:00:00 +1100

Awoke this morning to a breakfast of eggy fried rice, with added egg to make it all the eggier 🥚🥚🥚. We set off from camp about 9, and had another beautiful day of rolling gravel, green trees, trestle bridges — or half a trestle bridge! — and a lot of bird life.

We did see some wildlife today: a few rock wallabies, a goanna and a fox! We rolled along through a sun-drenched ‘road’ cut into the forest and lined each side with the greenest fernery, which lit up particularly greenish-yellow with the sun rising in the east and backlighting the foliage for us. It was just as I imagine the road to heaven might look like!

The nicer/harder-packed gravel gives way to an unfinished rougher section about Waygara Road (or just west of it). From there until Orbost (about 14–15 kilometres) it was more of a bush track, and in some parts almost singletrack. We found it hard going on our fully-loaded bikes, as we don’t have suspension [Except for my Thudbuster seatpost] and our wrists and trapezius muscles were quite sore by the time we made it to Orbost.

We did make it OK to Orbost however, and after visiting the tourist information centre — which is housed in a historic slab hut that had been moved from it’s original location on the Snowy River — had lunch at the Orbost Club Hotel. Danielle had a steak sandwich and I had barbeque pork ribs. We had too many beers, some friendly chatter with the locals and then headed back.

To avoid those ~15 kilometres of rough trail on the way back, we followed the Snowy River for a while on the road, then up the hills to rejoin the rail trail at the Simpsons Creek Road crossing. We rode past a farmer rounding up his cattle, and struggled a lot due to the excess of beer and pork ribs. We made very wise commitments for future trips to not drink a lot of booze and eat a lot of heavy food halfway through a ride, which we shall promptly forget the minute we walk into another little country pub somewhere.

We hadn’t quite skipped the rough trail when we got to Simpsons Creek Road: but we only had about 2–3 kilometres of it. Now we’re camped at the rest stop at Partellis Crossing Road. We pitched the tent under the shelter to avoid ants and hopefully have a nice dry tent in the morning. We’re about to cook dinner — spicy lentil tarka daal — call Anneliese and retire.

We covered 70 kilometres all up today; a solid effort which will see us be able to go a bit easier to Bruthen tomorrow.

A very Good Friday — East Gippsland Rail Trail, Day 1

Fri, 29 Mar 2024 21:00:00 +1100

We arrived in Bairnsdale last night on the 22:30 train from Melbourne. We rode to the NRMA Bairnsdale Riverside Holiday Park and set up next to a pool in the dark. It was a long train trip to get here, but the showers at the holiday park are brilliant and it sure beats driving!

I went to the toilet block and ran into a local from Ballarat: Matt Britton — who runs the CycleScape bike shop — on his way to Merimbula with his extended family. What a coincidence! Small world… We hit the sack pretty quickly, and we were comfortable enough.

Due to the late night, we slept in to 08:00 and got off from Bairnsdale later than planned as a result, but we had a truly lovely day. We had a coffee and a bacon and egg roll at the coffee truck in the holiday park before we left. It got hot pretty quickly: 26°C (79°F) and sunny all day with not a breath of wind, but the scenery was great and when we stopped — and thus no longer had the sound of our tyres on gravel drowning out the silence — we heard plenty of birds and it was delightfully peaceful.

There were quite a few big old wooden trestle bridges remaining of the old railway and lots of road passes where they have placed two gates slightly ajar: about 30 degrees parallel to each other making turning through them tough with heavily loaded touring bikes. We felt they could be a tad wider apart and not compromise on safety whilst also not forcing us to skid through the gravel, but we can see why they are placed the way they are. I’m sure it was designed and thought through by somebody more knowledgeable than I. It was awesome, however, not having to deal with motor traffic.

When we arrived in Bruthen, we got a taste of what we were missing: a very long convoy of huge Jayco vans that would surely have ruined our day. Leaving “The Enemy” behind, we crossed over the Tambo River and appreciated our car-free paradise all the more. We saw plenty of birds but not much wildlife — we hope that changes tomorrow if we leave camp earlier. We checked into a kitschy caravan park in Nowa Nowa for $60 [I was a bit taken aback by the high price for an unpowered site. The fellow tourist we met, who stayed earlier in the week (i.e. not on the Easter long weekend) said he’d paid $40, so it seems ‘peak’ holiday pricing is a 50% markup! The park was lovely, and perhaps I’m just an old tight-arse, but for a patch of grass and a shower that’s steep by anybody’s measure.] and met another cycle tourist coming the other way, having spent some days around Cape Conran. While setting up our tent, Danielle was stung by a bee, and then had her pink-painted toes pecked by chickens as we cooked our pasta for dinner in the camp kitchen. It was refreshing to see her hen-pecked for once (hoho 😆)!

We’re now off to sleep. Big day tomorrow!

Planning for an Easter Quickie — East Gippsland Rail Trail

Mon, 25 Mar 2024 09:00:00 +1100

The title of this post is a tad misleading, as though of course we had to plan to take a four-day-weekend off 400 kilometres from home, the amount of planning we’ve done for this one hardly warrants a post all its own!

We’re saving our dollaroos for our long-dreamed-of tour in Europe, so the chance to get a quickie in in our home state, over Easter so as not to use up leave from work, and rough camping to save as much as we can on accommodation means we can still get out and enjoy the beautiful countryside without opening our wallets too widely.

Most of our planning, unfortunately, has had to revolve around the fucking basket-case that is the current state of V-Line, our public regional train network here in Victoria. Bus replacements, planned-then-abandoned industrial action, and general unreliability of the service has forced us to book a night’s accommodation in Melbourne the night before we leave, which probably cost us as much as the rest of the trip combined. The $10 fares make up for it a little, and we’ve booked into the NRMA Bairnsdale Riverside Holiday Park on Thursday night, as we arrive at 22:30. We have an unpowered site for $32, but after years of camping we’re pretty confident we can set up in the dark easily enough.

We are hoping to get about 60 kilometres for the first two days, then 50 and 30 kilometres for the third and fourth respectively, but we’re not sticking to that, merely to the idea of front-loading the distance a little to make things easier for us on Monday, when we need to catch the midday train home.

And that’s it. That’s all the planning we’ve done. We’ll camp where we can, eat where we can, and just see what happens.

200.0 route distance (km)

1,330m elevation to climb

4 days' riding

Epilogue: Kingston Beach — Tasmania

Sun, 31 Dec 2023 12:00:00 +1100

Danielle’s parents live in Sandy Bay, and her aunt Jan lives in Kingston Beach. The Channel Highway connects the two seaside suburbs of Hobart and lucky for us, it’s a favourite route for local cyclists, and for very good reason.

The views on this road are magnificent — much like the rest of Tasmania — as it winds out of Sandy Bay as Sandy Bay Road, then becomes the Channel Highway from Taroona, past the Shot Tower and Golf Club and into Kingston. We wanted to do this ride for the reasons above, so took off this morning to see off 2023 with a nice ride. The hills are there, and they’re work, but pleasant enough and we got up and over easily enough.

We sadly passed a little Bennett’s wallaby on the road, having fallen victim to the enemy [Cars.] and I stopped to check him for joeys. [When I stopped, I had yet to determine his sex.] It’s quite distressing seeing how prolific Tasmania’s roadkill problem is. This poor little guy didn’t have much of a chance: wedged into small pockets of bush between expanding suburbs, cut off from other small pockets of bush by winding and hilly roads, and faced with a populace who claim to be proud of Tasmania’s wildlife and ecotourism credentials, but fail to extend this pride to lifting their feet off the accelerator, even a little. What upset me the most was that he was still very warm: quite dead, but freshly so, the warmth of life hadn’t left him yet. I did all I could for him: moved him off the road so he didn’t face the indignity of being spread across the road like butter by people who just keep mashing them.

The unfortunate wallaby aside, it really was a lovely ride. We had coffee at Kingston Beach and then turned for home. We’ll have to do this run again sometime this week.

Epilogue: Conquering the Mountain! — Tasmania

Thu, 28 Dec 2023 18:34:00 +1100

I’ve had such an awesome tour this year around Tasmania, but I have to admit to some small disappointments and setbacks as my rear wheel didn’t last the entire planned journey, and many legs of my tour were subsequently completed aboard a bus/shuttle. My physical fitness is also nowhere near where I’d hoped it would be at this point of the year, for a multitude of factors. So when I set out this morning at 05:45 to conquer kunanyi, the 1,270m high mountain overlooking Hobart, I was very dubious about my chances of making it successfully to the summit.

After a hearty muesli breakfast, I kissed Danielle goodbye at 05:45, unable to convince her to accompany me. Danielle’s parents live in Sandy Bay, up on the hill overlooking the Derwent, so the first order of business was to descend for about a kilometre, but that was to be almost the last descent until I reached the summit. It’s only 22 kilometres, but all of it is a continual gradient between 5% at its easiest slopes to 16-17% at the steepest sections, which come mostly at the approach to the park, rather than on the mountain road itself.

I had to hike-a-bike for about 50 metres at a steep bend in Ridgeway Road just past the Waterworks, but otherwise managed to pedal the entire way. My uneasiness about my physical fitness was warranted, however the natural beauty of the eucalypt forests each side of the road was a soothing balm as I just slipped Serena into her lowest gear and plodded upwards. Ever upwards.

The mountain itself was shrouded in cloud and when I first set out I couldn’t see it at all, but as I wove through the approaching hills out of Sandy Bay, gaps in the cloud appeared here and there and exposed little green sections of forest, so that it appeared that the heavens themselves were forested! Wallabies bounded out of the way as pied currawongs looked at me wondering whether I was the next morsel of roadkill on the menu today.

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As I rode up from the Springs, and beyond the first real lookout, I saw a snake slithering up from the road as I passed. Thinking it a tiger snake [Upon looking it up at home it could’ve been a tiger, but was more likely a White-lipped Snake, Drysdalia coronoides.] I didn’t stop to look, I just pedalled like crazy out of there!

The climb was relentless, as I said, but the view and beauty was relentless too, as I’ve also said. It bears repeating: this is one of the nicest rides I’ve been on in terms of scenery.

I finally reached the summit about 08:00 and the cloud had yet to clear. The clouds were swirling around the mountain, creating a silent and eerie world of its own as I felt like I was riding in the sky. I asked a bloke at the top to take some photos of me, and my original intent was to hold my bike above my head, but being a bit pooped from the ride, and the bloke having a little fella near the road to look out for, I opted for a quick lift instead at chest height. I like how it turned out though: taking my Serena on a trip I’d promised her all year, and showing her the view.

Showing Serena the sights from the summit of kunanyi.

I read a beautiful poem at one of the lookouts, written (I believe) by a local indigenous poet. I don’t know the author, what tribal group they’re from, or even in fact what language this is written in [If anybody does know, I would love to be informed. The sign gave the names of three tribes of Aboriginal families: muwinina, mumirimina, and nununi.], but I liked it a lot. Here are both the indigenous poem and the English translation:

milaythina nika milaythina-mana. pakana laykara milaythina nika mulaka pakana-mapali krakapaka milaythina nika. tapilti larapuna, tapilti putalina tapilti kunanyi, tapilti tayaritja waranta takara milaythina nara takara. nara taymi krakapaka waranta-tu waranta tunapri nara. milaythina nika waranta pakana, waranta palawa, milaythina nika

This land is our country Aboriginal people ran over this land to hunt and many died here. From Eddystone Point, to Oyster Cove From Mount Wellington, to the Bass Strait islands We walk where they walked. And they will never be dead for us as long as we remember them. This country is us — and we are this country.

I remarked to the kind photographer that I’d “forgotten what downhill is” when he asked how I felt in amazement that I’d ridden up there on my bicycle. I was soon to be reminded: the obvious flipside of a continual ascent is a continual descent once I turned around and went home. I rode my brakes hard enough, as I felt the road isn’t really good enough to safely exceed about 40-50kph [kph: kilometres per hour], and I stopped at the Lost Freight Café at the Springs area, which served a very nice double espresso as I chatted to a West Australian fellow cyclist on his way up.

As I turned off from Pinnacle Road onto Huon Road, and came through Fern Tree, a flatbed truck with lots of bins on the back sat right on my arse as I descended the mountain at 50kph, but that obviously wasn’t enough for him. Wanker. Thankfully he continued down Huon Road as I turned off onto Chimney Pot Hill Road to go the way I’d come.

I met up with Danielle at MeMi Café near the University of Tasmania campus in Sandy Bay, where we’ve been having our regular coffee whilst here. The sense of pride and accomplishment I felt was palpable, and I was absolutely beaming when Danielle walked up to me sitting and gulping down coffee, water, bacon and egg slider and a muffin.

Wooo!

The end of the cycling portion of our cycling tour — Tasmania, Day 11

Tue, 19 Dec 2023 19:00:00 +1100

Well, fuck.

We awoke late and had a nice breakfast, then packed up, checked out and headed off. At first we made good time. Back past Coles Bay to the Tasman Highway and another stop at The Pondering Frog. It was drizzly but not too bad, but by the time we reached Cherry Tree Hill it was bucketing down. We had to be very careful, as its a very well known black spot.

We got to about 10 kilometres shy of Swansea today when my wheel went awry again [Update: It turns out Kai being a bit of a newbie when it comes to wheel building, didn’t tighten the spokes enough.] and we called an end to the cycling portion of our cycling tour.

My wheel was wobbling side-to-side and got worse as we progressed, but got so bad that it was rubbing paint off the frame! I had to stop, but Danielle — riding in the front position — never looked back, because

she was pushing hard due to the rain [I’m actually really proud of her, in retrospect. She was struggling, but so determined to keep on trucking!], and

because I have served as her mirror and radar detector for over a week…

She kept on riding for a few kilometres, and I was forced to keep pedalling behind furiously on a very shaky wheel and screaming for her to stop, but she couldn’t hear me.

Once reunited, we walked with thumbs out for about 4–5 kilometres, but were ignored by drivers as they sped past, before a legend of a local fella named Jacob pulled over in his ute and drove us the rest of the way to Swansea. Jacob got drenched helping us get our heavy bikes and bags on and off the ute, and was just so great about helping us out. We thanked him and his partner Claire — and I’ll thank him again: wherever you are Jacob, thanks mate! — and called around for some accommodation.

We’re in the Swansea Holiday Park and booked on the 09:24 bus to Triabunna tomorrow to at least see Maria Island before returning to Hobart by bus. We ate a big dinner of fried eggs and Ben’s rice in wraps. It wasn’t quite like the Freycinet Lodge dinners, but our bellies are full and we’re dry and warm.

Freycinet Lodge and Wineglass Bay — Tasmania, Day 10

Mon, 18 Dec 2023 19:00:00 +1100

A red letter day. We awoke naturally to the sunlight streaming over The Hazards and into our cabin as we nursed our hangovers from the wine and beer consumed last night.

We dragged ourselves off to a breakfast of smoked salmon benedict for Danielle, and a Freycinet “Big Brekky” for myself, with two double espressos.

We returned to our room for an in-room couples massage with Danielle inside, and me on the deck. It was very relaxing, if not overly “remedial”, but thoroughly enjoyable nevertheless. I arranged this yesterday afternoon as we rode into Coles Bay and I could see how stiff and sore Danielle was, and how hard she was trying, forging on beyond her limit on many days. She’d well and truly earned it.

After our massage we rested for a bit before heading off on a bush walk. We went along a walk/cycle path to the tourist carpark that leads up to the Wineglass Bay lookout. We headed up along the path, which was very well-established and equally well-tread.

Danielle and I at the Wineglass Bay lookout.

The views at the top were amazing. Every part of the lookout was heavily trafficked by tourists (like us!) and we kept stopping to pick up rubbish we saw along the path. Aside from that it was an awesome outing. We paused at the lookout to have a light lunch of beef jerky and nuts, and I took the time to sketch the view in my tour journal.

A sketch I made of the view whilst having my lunch.

On the way back we went via Honeymoon Bay, a tiny little spot with very beautiful views of the Hazards Beach outcroppings. We saw salmon and leatherjackets swimming in the crystal clear waters.
Continue reading after the quote

Men seek retreats for themselves… no retreat offers someone more quiet and relaxation than that into his own mind.
Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

We walked back to the cabin and I adjusted the rear derailleur on Danielle’s bike, as her gears were shifting incorrectly yesterday. Hopefully I’ve got it running right.

We had a nice long epsom salt bath again, and some complimentary mini-bar beers and cider. It was a totally lovely afternoon.

We walked up to the bistro and had a burger each, and I had a Cascade Export Stout. We were served again by the same waiter who was working in the restaurant last night. Pablo is a Spaniard from León, in Northern Spain. Pablo really looked after us well last night, and we had a nice chat about his hometown, as I told him of my desire to visit the region so I can make my Sad Hill pilgrimage to Burgos. He looked amazed that anybody would want to fly around the world to visit Burgos, but there you go…

We came back to our room and watched The Meg 2: The Trench, which was every bit as realistic and enthralling as the original. That Jonas bloke can do anything!

On the road again... — Tasmania, Day 9

Sun, 17 Dec 2023 19:00:00 +1100

We left the holiday park in Bicheno this morning nice and early, about 07:00, and stopped at the Blue Edge Bakery for a quick start coffee before heading south.

The hills were very flat and rolling along was easy enough. Just rolling itself was a joy! We stopped for a quick toilet break opposite a cute little Christmas-decorated farm gate, and about 200 metres further south from the turnoff to Coles Bay Road we stopped at a little road stop called The Pondering Frog.

We had bacon and egg rolls and coffees and some fun local banter with Lester, a funny old fella [We believe he’s the co-proprietor, with his wife.] who manned the till. He was a character!

Stopping for a breather on Coles Bay Road, looking out at the scrubby coastal bush.

We rode back up to the turn off, then along about 20–30 kilometres of scrubby coastal bush showing signs of recent bushfires. [We looked it up later and indeed, there was a 1200ha bushfire here in September 2023, around the Friendly Beaches area.] But even the desolation was unable to detract from its rugged beauty. As we entered Coles Bay, our breath was taken away by the vista of The Hazards looming over Coles Bay, clear, shimmering, pristine water.

Resting our bikes at the boat ramp and taking in the stunning vista.

We rested at the boat ramp with a 270º view, then rode around to the Iluka Tavern for a local pint or two. We had a Malting Lagoon Belgian Golden Ale and a Hazy Bayz. This is a local little craft brewery named after Moulting Lagoon, the body of water behind Coles Bay.

We checked into Freycinet Lodge for a few days of luxury after all the camping we’ve been doing. We took a Mountain King room, had a nice soaking bath in our outdoor bath full of epsom salts, then had two paddles of beer for tasting at The Hazards Bar, and dinner at The Bay restaurant.

Our outdoor bath was a much-anticipated delight. We filled it full of epsom salts and soaked our tired muscles.

We had the baked Tasmanian half shell scallops — which were the best dish of the dinner — and the Robbins Island wagyu bresaola as entrées; we had The Bay, which was an Atlantic salmon dish with Tasmanian wasabi and a mussels and ginger sauce; and the dry aged scotch fillet, cooked blue, with rainforest pepper, roasted roots and greens.

Taking a selfie on the outdoor deck of Freycinet Lodge.

As the sun set, the outdoor deck filled up fast with lots of selfies, and a couple had a nice romantic honeymoon-style private dinner on the jetty, which looked pretty lovely.

We came back to our room, watched The Meg with Jason Statham, a cinematic tour-de-farce, and went to sleep.

Bumming a lift — Tasmania, Day 8

Sat, 16 Dec 2023 19:00:00 +1100

We started the morning with a nice brunch at Sco. & Co. and The Lifebuoy Café in St. Helens, as we we had arranged a rendezvous with Steve at 11. First we had to battle a cold water shower¹ at The Bayside Hotel. There were heaps of bugs in our room last night also. We don’t know whether they were coming in via the ceiling or a gap in the doors, but it was a bit disconcerting.

But back to breakfast: I had a mushroom bruschetta with bacon and Danielle had the green eggs and haloumi. It was delicious and both dishes featured a really nice basil pesto. We finished breaking our fast and rode back to the park opposite the hotel to take off our fenders² and await Steve.

The Lifebuoy Café certainly lives up to its name: everything is very nautical!

Steve came at 11 and we all headed south to Bicheno. Steve is an interesting and incredibly kind and generous man. He took us to Bicheno today purely out of the good of his own heart, took his young son Declan³ along for the ride and a walk up to the blowhole at Bicheno. We got the distinct impression he’s always helping someone out. He was an assistant principal at the local K–12 [K–12: kindergarten to Year 12] school, but resigned to take a fresh career path a few months ago.

At Bicheno we put the bikes back together again, farewelled Steve and Declan after profusely thanking them, then checked into the Bicheno East Coast Holiday Park as the carpark in which we put the bikes together was right next door.

We moved our bags inside and then I went for a fish on the beach. I cast a popper and bait on a paternoster rig out into the surf and sat on the beach with the butt of the rod in the sand. A pied oystercatcher (Haematopus longirostris) AKA [AKA: also known as] red bill flew into my braid line and entangled herself. I ran out into the surf to free her, but my phone was in my pocket so it was tough to get out deep enough. I got to her, held her wings and untangled her, then let her loose and she flew off alright. Hopefully she has no serious injuries beyond a cut from the braid and a mighty scare.

I found Danielle at the Lobster Shack at The Gulch, and we ate an early dinner of crumbed scallops, calamari salad and two Bicheno Pale Ales apiece. I went for another fish on the pier in front of the Lobster Shack, then the next one along in front of the distillery!

Another fisherman, who was wearing a Cycology shirt, introduced himself as Dick and lent me a squid jig, as they were on the chew. Dick is a bike mechanic currently working as a council compliance officer in Hobart. We chased some Southern Calamari (Sepioteuthis australis) by sight — even though the water is deep, it was crystal clear and you could see the broken bottom, and watch the squid chase the lure out of big clumps of kelp. The Gulch is a channel between the coast and Governor Island, only about 50 metres wide.

A nice big squid for dinner from The Gulch

I kept the squid, and we cleaned and ate him for supper. He was big: we struggled to eat it all!

We talked to Anneliese, packed our bags for an early departure tomorrow to Freycinet and went to bed for an early night.

The hotel was having issues with our hot water system and we copped a cold one both this morning and last night. ↩︎

Steve had the same racks everybody does up here: vertical mountain biking (MTB) style. ↩︎

My son is also named Declan, but much older at 18. ↩︎

On our way to Biche—oh no! — Tasmania, Day 7

Fri, 15 Dec 2023 19:00:00 +1100

Today was… well… let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

We awoke after spending a beautiful night under the clearest skies, to a gorgeous sunrise on the Bay of Fires. As we packed our tent, the sun poked up with beams of light streaming through the clouds and spread across the bay, and it was marvellous!

We had a good chat to an old Tasmanian bloke, then set off. The hills were easier at 7 a.m., and we made great time. I had a huge shot of adrenaline as I started just thoroughly enjoying the tour and being out on the road, and was dancing and singing to the groovy beats of Technotronic’s Pump Up The Jam, as we careened down coastal roads past spectacular azure bays, with 360º of either beautiful water or nice coastal bushland.

A swan swims towards a yacht in St. Georges Bay.

We stopped in St. Helens for a great coffee at Coffee Away in the main drag. We also had another good chat to a few Tasmanian types.

We headed off towards Scamander. There is a cycleway that follows the water out of St. Helens towards Stieglitz and like much of the rest of this region, winds through gorgeous scenery.

When we got to the A3 Tasman Highway, and faced with a big hill out of the cove, we opted instead to follow a mountain biking (MTB) trail along the highway. This is where we became unstuck.

The trail followed the highway for a little while, but then suddenly left the highway altogether and became harder MTB [MTB: mountain biking] territory: singletrack and switchbacks and ‘technical’ terrain. At the trailhead we saw evidence of the massive investment in this region’s MTB infrastructure.

The trails around St. Helens, much like the Derby trails, show signs of huge investment in the local MTB infrastructure.

We headed back to the A3 and rolled into Beaumaris and onto Scamander. My back wheel was wobbling like crazy since the MTB trail and we stopped at a park for fish and chips, and to check the bike.

My heart stopped when I saw my rim: I had pulled 9 spokes almost through the rim — the rim on each side of the spoke nipple was broken and pulling inwards.¹ We were fucked. Bikes without wheels don’t tour very far.

We called Giant St. Helens and spoke to Kai and Steve. They didn’t have any road cycling stock because it’s all about the M.T.B.’s up here, but advised us to limp back to St. Helens and we’d see what could be done.

We managed it, and Danielle was really inspiring in how she battled up the pass on Artemis, and we clocked up 50 kilometres on the GPS by the time we got back to St. Helens. My wheel was wobbling like crazy².

Kai at Giant St. Helens was a godsend. Kai is a young 18-year-old recent-graduate from high school, who’s awaiting news of an offer from Sydney University for Engineering. Fingers crossed Kai! He salvaged a rim from an old customer bike, found the one 32-spoke 29″ road rim in the shop and rigged us up a new wheel!

We checked into the Bayside Hotel and at 17:00 Kai was still going! He got it done and Steve has kindly offered to drive us on to Bicheno tomorrow. So, we’re saved for now. So fuck you NE [NE: north-east] Tasmania, you haven’t beaten us yet!

It is difficult to describe this malfunction, and as I have posted the wheel home without taking shots, I’ll have to update this post when I finally return to Victoria. ↩︎

Another customer at Giant St. Helens was driving behind us and noted how absolutely fucked my back wheel must have been. ↩︎

Hitching a ride to the Bay of Fires — Tasmania, Day 6

Thu, 14 Dec 2023 19:00:00 +1100

We woke up this morning at The Dorset Hotel, and had our breakfast in the little dining room downstairs, packed our bags and bikes, and wheeled them across to the road to Bark Off Bikes. We took our fenders off in the rain then boarded the bus. [As the shuttle bus bike racks were of the MTB type, and our front wheels have full fenders on them, we needed to remove them.]

The shuttle from Derby to St. Helens.

A family of four from Canberra were riding the Blue Tier trail to St. Helens so we have our ride. Brody, our driver, dropped us at the IGA in the main street, at about 10:30, and it only cost us $120. Given we had the extra time now, we had a brunch at The Bays Kitchen of a bacon and egg sandwich panini with relish for me; a grilled vegetables panini with relish for Danielle.

We then changed into our riding gear at the toilets next to the RSL memorial, bought dinner and supplies from IGA and rode out to the Bay of Fires.

There were heaps of hills, and we bickered a little in the heat. [We quickly got over it of course. Riding in the heat up all the hills temporarily got the better of us. Touring isn’t all wineries and beautiful beaches!] We arrived at Swimcart Beach and found a nice sheltered spot about 10 metres from the beach! It was lovely: blue water, very white sands and red algae boulders that give the Bay of Fires its name.

The Bay of Fires is just absolutely breathtaking in its beauty, natural white sands and deep blue sea.

I sight-fished for salmon, which I could see swimming along in the surf, and just had an awesome afternoon.

We cooked beetroot and quinoa veggie patties, Spanish chorizo and had Thai beef noodle salad for dinner. A nice gourmet dinner from the IGA delicatessen.

We watched a beautiful sunset on the beach and had such an awesome day. We hope to head off first thing tomorrow morning.

The North East Tasmanian Rail Trail — Tasmania, Day 5

Wed, 13 Dec 2023 19:00:00 +1100

Today was a lovely day. We got up before sunrise (05:00) and were on the path to the North East Tasmanian Rail Trail before the sun came up.

Compared to everything we’d ridden to date, and standing alone, it was a delightful leisurely roll through rainforest, farms, granite cuttings with overgrown ferns, old growth forest and logging areas and little makeshift station memorials where we had coffee and a breather.

The ‘Tongarah station’ rest stop was a perfect place for a mid-trail coffee

We didn’t see many people — just Len, a bike packer we’d spoken to last night and two mountain bikers, a couple who were doing all the local runs and had completed the trail numerous times.

The couple advised us to take a gravel road shortcut south of the highway, but the locals in Branxholm had an opposite opinion and warned against it. Local knowledge trumped interstater and we pushed on to Derby via the Blue Derby Valley Ride path. It was a “family friendly” mountain bike trail that was just a tad too “technical” for my fully loaded Serena.

When we got to Derby we stopped at the Bark Off Biking mountain biking (MTB) store where the owners Josh and Luke organised a shuttle to St. Helens for us [We’re running behind time and if we’re to make our Freycinet Lodge booking on 17 December, we need to “jump ahead” a little.], so we checked in across the road at The Dorset Hotel.

I had a fish whilst waiting for the pub to open, and hooked a nice little brown trout, about 40-45cm by my estimation. [The banks of the river were riddled with platypus burrows, particularly where I was fishing from, and with trees either side preventing me from moving left or right along the banks, and not wanting to trample the burrows into the water, the fish eventually took me under a log and snapped me off.] It was such beautiful trout water, and I was delighted that I had the foresight and fortitude to lug my fishing rod all this way. I would’ve been really pissed if I couldn’t fish it.

Beautiful trout water that just begged one to fish it.

Danielle waited at a gazebo where she could check on both her Twitter feed, and the half-naked French boys in the van opposite. 🤣

We had dinner and beers at the pub, then I fished some more [Turns out I’m a half-decent cast of the fly rod when I’m drunk 😂 but I didn’t catch anything!], called Declan and Anneliese then went to sleep.

Everyone here is MTB [MTB: mountain biking]-mad. Everything is “gnarly” and they are all like Californian surfer types, “shredding chutes”, “sessioning” and “eating shit” when they fall off. I like when a little community has its own lingo and ways of communication that both establish an insider and keep outsiders in the dark. Love it!

Cherries — Tasmania, Day 4

Tue, 12 Dec 2023 17:30:00 +1100

We set off too late again this morning from Bridport and as a result rode in the peak of the heat. We only did 20 kilometres to Scottsdale but there were lots of hills, trucks and no shade nor shoulder.

Scottsdale itself is atop a big hill. We rested, however temporarily, at a cemetery on the outskirts where a nice little park bench under a tree provided us shade. It was lovely.

We rode straight to the Lords Hotel and devoured two 300g scotch fillets and four pints of Boag’s Draught. We had a chat to the barmaid, who besides telling us of her love for Carlton Football Club, told us that the trucks should thin out a bit beyond Branxholm¹.

We called the Cherry Man from Tassie Tours & Transfers in hope of securing a jump ride to St. Helens². It turns out his name was Adrian. I thanked him profusely for the cherries and he said he’d make enquiries about the ride.

We couldn’t find the cycle shop that Google told us was in Scottsdale³, so rode downhill to the North East free camping ground and spent the rest of the afternoon resting in the shade. We spoke to Anneliese for well over an hour and ate veggie burgers and Thai salad for dinner.

Adrian called back to say he was unfortunately unable to help us. We have resolved to forge on ahead. We can do it. We’re going to set off at sunrise and take the rail trail some of the way. We’ll get to Derby then reassess. Fuck turning back.

An evening was spent in front of a duck pond whilst half a dozen rapist drakes⁴ kept us company, no doubt in hopes of dropped chips.

We’ve turned in early to read and sleep.

She was right, after Branxholm/Derby the trucks get far fewer between. ↩︎

We’re falling a little behind in terms of ground covered if we are to make our booking at Freycinet Lodge in a few days’ time. ↩︎

Perhaps a victim of the COVID years? ↩︎

Danielle was mortified to witness these ducks all chasing the female and after fighting each other over who would get to mate with her, forcing their way. ↩︎

He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps, he likes to mow down cyclists... — Tasmania, Day 3

Mon, 11 Dec 2023 20:54:00 +1100

We slept well last night. Maybe a little too well. We didn’t get packed up and off until late and we rolled into George Town at about 09:30. We visited the post office and mailed ahead 3.9kg of extras to reduce weight from our packs. We stopped at a café and I bought a coffee and found a free copy of Deliverance.

We left George Town and were immediately confronted with lots of logging trucks, all the way to Bridport. Every minute or two I’d spot one in the rearview mirror and call out “Truck! Truck! Truck!” and we’d pull off the road. It was wise: some didn’t even give us an inch, and there was zero shoulder.

We stopped at Pipers River General Store for some South Melbourne dim sims and some Calippos. It was like eating the finest gourmet meal. I guess we just needed the water and the salt! We were allowed to fill our bottles at the toilet [We generally get one of two reactions at places we stop: either “Oh wow, you must be pooped, here’s some water and some local tips etc.” or “Make sure your bikes don’t scratch the paint and if you want a drink, go to the toilet!”] and then we continued on.

We were between the general store and Pipers Brook when a nice fella from Tassie Tours & Transfers stopped to check on us, due to the heat. We assured him we were OK, and he gave us a huge bag of fresh (and free!) cherries.

We made a slight detour to visit Jansz and Pipers Brook wineries, but when we got there, the cellar doors were not at the front near the road but somewhere around the back of the winery. We couldn’t be fucked riding up and down gravel roads for a glass of wine and a cheese platter, so we quit and had a beautiful picnic on the grass at the front gate. We saw an echidna and watched him waddle across the entrance as we ate the cherries. It was utterly delightful!

Echidna at the gate to Pipers Brook Winery

At Bridport we stayed at Bridport Holiday Park, an old links golf course. The camp sites were all situated on the former fairways and putting greens, so the grass was wonderfully soft and bouncy. The managers are new, and from the outback. [Flinders Ranges; we know because they told us so at every opportunity!]

Danielle was bitten by a swarm of jackjumpers but old mate Phil from the outback was unimpressed: “That’s not a jackjumper! South Australian jackjumpers are as big as Volkswagens!”

We went for a walk on the beach, had Moo Brew Pale Ale and fish and chips, and are now listening to the surf whilst we go to sleep. Oh, and we met about 20 of the local seagulls, including an old warhorse named Scar.

Vineyards on the river, a family maritime history and... penguins! — Tasmania, Day 2

Sun, 10 Dec 2023 22:10:00 +1100

This morning was a lovely one as we packed up our gear, and rode around to the Paperbark Café, not far from the park we’d stayed the night in. The café was new, and the breakfast — “mushroom huddle” with bacon for me; smashed avocado with Tasmanian salmon for Danielle — was delightfully delicious. And cheap! $18 without the extras in this economy!

Smashed avo with salmon at the Paperbark Café

We also stopped at Marion’s Vineyard, which was stunning. We arrived almost an hour early, so I had a fish from a little jetty in the Tamar River in front of the winery. Once opened, we were greeted by Echo, a big German Shepherd and Flash, a border collie, as we pushed our bikes up the steep driveway to the cellar door. We took a glass each of the Pétillant Naturel, which was pink-hued and very refreshing, and some bush pepper cheddar and vegan cheese [Vegan cheese is good for not going bad as quickly as dairy — bicycle tourists don’t carry Eskies] and some venison and chilli cheese sausage.

Parking our bikes and looking out over the gorgeous picturesque Marion’s Vineyard.

From the vineyard we rode around the riverside bends, past the Supply River junction, where some locals were fishing for ocean run trout [A great example of stopping on tour to do something: I regretted not stopping here for a fish for the rest of the journey.], and up to the Batman Bridge.

Danielle and I at the Paperbark Café

Danielle’s smashed avocado

Serena at the Supply River

Serena looking out over the Tamar River

Danielle with a Pet Nat at Marion’s Vineyard cellar door

Nice views from the cellar door

Echo chilling out in the sunshine

A dog’s life!

Danielle at the cellar door bar

Danielle and I enjoying the beautiful vista from the Marion’s Vineyard cellar door

A nesting mama

Resting our bikes at Marion’s Vineyard

The Batman Bridge over the Tamar River

From here the journey got a bit shit. We were forced by lack of options into riding on the A3 highway almost all the way to George Town. The hills were relentless as was the traffic, who barely gave us an inch. There was no shoulder most of the way. [I intend to write a longer more detailed post on the dismal state of cycling infrastructure in Tasmania: stay tuned!]

Once at George Town we stopped at the Bass & Flinders Maritime Museum. Danielle’s uncle Bernal Cuthbertson — who sadly passed ten years ago — was an instrumental part of both the museum and the vessels and history within it, and we walked in the door with 5 minutes until closing time. Bern’s photo was hung next to the door, and when I explained to the volunteer at the desk how keen Danielle was to see the museum due to the family connection, not only did the volunteers keep the museum open a little longer and give us a tour, but they treated Danielle and myself like visiting dignitaries, took photos of Danielle holding Bern’s photo and were just altogether lovely.

A display for Bern read:

Bern was well-known for the project to build the replica whaleboat Elizabeth that he sailed around Tasmania, and he also managed the building of the replica Norfolk among his many achievements. Both vessels are here on display at the Georgetown Bass and Flinders Centre.

Danielle with The Norfolk in the background

We left the museum and had a beer across the road at The Pier then rode out to the East Beach Tourist Park to lodge for the night in a cabin. The owner Craig was a great character and very friendly!

We went to see a penguin tour at Low Head. The little fairy penguins were lots of fun and very cute! They are very acclimated to human presence and walked right past our legs on their way to their rookery nests. We watched the sun go down and had a lovely evening.

We then went home, trimmed down our bags and packed up some items to be posted ahead at the George Town Post Office to reduce weight in the morning. Next stop: Bridport!

On the road to nowhere

Danielle slogging up the A3

Timber mills at George Town

Danielle at the Bass & Flinders Maritime Museum with a photo of Uncle Bern in the background

Danielle in the mess on The Norfolk

Sleeping quarters

A comfortable bed

Uncle Bern and some local history

Danielle and I on the deck of The Norfolk

The captain’s cabin

Not a lot of head room down here

Ships’ plaques

Danielle below decks

The Bass & Flinders Maritime Museum

A seagull statue

Evil doesn’t wear a bonnet!

A particularly old and dusty map of Tassie 🤣

I just love beautiful old wooden boats like this one: Tom Thumb

Danielle having a pint at The Pier. She earned it.

Parking our bikes at The Pier

Sunset over the Tamar River

Low Head at sunset

Our bikes resting against the Low Head Lighthouse

The lighthouse at Low Head

Our bikes looking out at Bass Strait

Danielle and the bikes with Bass Strait in the background

A very beautiful way to spend my evening. The sunset was nice as well.

Rainbows and pretty eyes

Sunset colours at Low Head

Waiting for our waddling buddies

Penguins coming ashore at Low Head

Penguins coming ashore at Low Head

A penguin in the muted lamps at Low Head

Poppies and hills to Gravelly Beach — Tasmania, Day 1

Sat, 09 Dec 2023 17:00:00 +1100

Content warning:
This is a warning

Our first-ever day of touring as a couple was, I fear, a bit of an eye-opener for Danielle! Not in terms of adventure, of course, as Danielle is a seasoned traveller who has roamed every corner of the world, but in terms of the physical demands of heavily loaded touring bikes.

We left Devonport this morning after stopping for coffee at a little heritage house called Miss Jacqueline’s, but I once knew this place as The Gingerbread House when it was owned and operated by the family of a friend I had in my twenties. I also talked to a lady (another customer) who lived there some years during her youth.

The road out of Devonport was hilly and rolled through green pastures full of cows and poppies. There were lots of signs with skull-and-crossbones warning off anyone wanting to make their own opium!

After we passed the road that would go north to Port Sorell, the forests began and it was very picturesque and scenic, however the hills were long and winding and we were absolutely fucked by the time we’d gone 20 kilometres. We stopped at a little creek for a rest and a fish.

In Frankford we stopped at the Blue Barn Café to stock up on drinks and snacks, and posted the gifts we bought Arabella, our niece¹.

The café was lovely with a quaint little country garden. The people were nice also.

In Exeter we stopped at the Exeter Hotel to ask for lodging and the barmaid looked at me like I was asking for directions to Mars. A local barfly directed us to the Rose Bay Park in Gravelly Beach, where we cooked up some chicken, eggs, capsicum and onion we purchased from the IGA in Exeter. We also had salad and jerky. I had a fish but there was lots of jellyfish in the Tamar River. We set up camp in a quiet part of the park behind the toilets (and some bushes — it was nicer than it sounds) and we’re now resting and snoozing the afternoon away.

Serena parked on the side of the Frankford Road

Danielle and I setting out from Devonport

Danielle and the bikes at ~~The Gingerbread House~~ Miss Jacqueline’s

Danielle taking a rest at the side of the road

Riding in the forested hills

Fishing at a rest stop along the way

Resting at a driveway entrance

Starting to feel the hills

Beautiful big trees

Rolling green pastures

Resting at the Blue Barn Café

The Blue Barn Café

The garden in front of the Blue Barn Café

Danielle resting on the porch outside the Blue Barn Café

Setting up camp out of the way at Gravelly Beach

Sun setting on the Tamar River

Boats at sunset on the Tamar River

Update: The postal service in rural Tasmania is pretty amazing, and these parcels, though posted from a little store on the highway in the middle of nowhere, reached their destination only a few days later, at Christmas to boot! ↩︎

Taking the Spirit of Tasmania ferry to Devonport — Tasmania, Day 0

Thu, 07 Dec 2023 15:35:00 +1100

After more than a year of looking forward to, planning, stressing and organising, we’re finally on our way to sunny Tasmania!

Of course, we haven’t quite made it to Tassie yet. First we have needed to take the train to Geelong from Ballarat via Melbourne, and we’ve spent the bulk of the middle part of the day today doing that. We left this morning at 11:00 from Ballarat. Danielle was still packing at 10:45 so her bike was a little wobbly and off-balance. Mine is HEAVY but well-balanced.

Our bikes at Ballarat Train Station, waiting for the train to Melbourne.

The train was delayed due to a track fault but we made it. Danielle went shopping in Geelong for some last-minute Christmas gifts and I wrapped up some last-minute work tasks, then joined Danielle at Westfield. We went to Lou’s Pizza for a yummy wood-fired pizza and local beers. Danielle has the Hawkers Pale Ale and a supreme pizza sans the pineapple; I had a mushroom and salami pizza and a Lou’s Lager. Both were delicious!

We’re here now in the Best Western Geelong Motor Inn. Checking in was a bit nerve-wracking for an instant when the receptionist took one look at our bikes and complained: “I’m really not keen on those bikes being in the rooms!” We assured her that there wouldn’t be a skerrick of dirt or marks of any kind, that the tyres were clean and we even have an old blanket for protecting the carpet and furniture. We’re hoping we won’t have to deal with frivolous cleaning or “damage” bills later. We took photos of the areas around our bikes in case we find ourselves in a dispute.

Tomorrow morning we’ll head out to the ferry terminal in North Geelong, bright and early at 06:00! We’re hoping the ferry is kinder to our bikes.

Friday 8 December 09:10

We’re on the Spirit of Tasmania ferry. Checking in and boarding was simple enough. Disregard the “No bikes in the terminal” signage, as we were encouraged to remain with and bring our bikes as we moved through security and onto the boat. We checked our little Jetboil gas canister, but besides that everything else was hunky dory and we were waved through.

The area for stowage of the bikes onboard was just next to the gangway post at the stern. We strapped our bikes as best we could to the grate and hoped for the best. We brought an old shitty blanket with us for protecting the bikes, but they should be alright as I packed lots of straps for the purpose. I didn’t get a photo but I’m going to try to when I disembark and then post it here [It was raining and we were in a bit of a rush with other cyclists waiting for us so I didn’t manage it.] to which any future two-wheeled travellers who follow us may refer.

Danielle resting aboard the Spirit of Tasmania.

We’ve grabbed ourselves a nice little post next to the windows on Deck 7 and we’re settling in for the crossing. I’m looking forward to going out on the outdoor deck amidships after lunch for a nice little smoke of my pipe!

17:05

We are still on the Spirit of Tasmania about 2 hours out of Devonport. It’s been a pretty smooth crossing of Bass Strait. I’ve had my pipe and a chat to an Exeter local named Tristan, a chippie with some advice on roads to take, had some beers and lunch, and altogether it’s been a pleasant journey. With the fair weather and smooth sailing I’m sure the bikes are OK.

21:10

We arrived in Devonport just after 19:00. Our bikes were fine — and they had company! Another Surly, a Karate Monkey in bright green, and a green Trek tourer were next to ours and loaded for bikepacking. They belonged to a German couple on their way to Cradle Mountain.

We collected our gas bottles from the LPG area and stopped by the IGA for some mi goreng noodle cups and some eggs.

We’re all set up in our cabin now with our bags off the bikes, which are locked up on the front porch with a fishing bell attached to the brake cable housing to alert Danielle to any late-night shenanigans. We’ve FaceTime’d Anneliese, had our dinner, repacked and redistributed pannier loads and now we’re retiring to bed. We’ve a big day tomorrow!

Our bikes at Ballarat Train Station, waiting for the train to Melbourne.

Danielle standing with our bikes in front of our house in Ballarat, ready to depart on our tour.

Danielle resting aboard the Spirit of Tasmania.

Transitioning from Wordpress to Hugo

Tue, 14 Nov 2023 09:52:00 +1100

I have, for the past few years, run a little personal blog on Wordpress called “Getting Out There”. Over the years I’ve hosted it at different hosts and domains, and added to it much the same as one might build extra rooms to a renovated house. I’ve run a little WooCommerce, added GravityForms and custom post types and photos and before you know it, the bloat is very, very real. With that bloat comes more hosting costs, which for a little personal blog that I am certain nobody reads, is unsustainable.

Here’s the catch: I love Wordpress. I’ve developed Wordpress themes from scratch, have built, maintained and then long-forgotten plugins, and have adored how close I was able to blend my loves of back- and front-end web design and development. Some years ago I moved from my own custom theme to one called Impreza, by US Themes. If you need a professional, highly capable and customisable Wordpress theme that just does everything you could possibly need, then Impreza is for you. I have held dozens of licenses for this theme. Adore.

So whilst I recognised the dire need to Marie Kondo my blog [I actually really detest the commercial drive behind the craze that is ~~KonMari~~ ruthlessly throwing things away, just to buy some Scandinavian shit to replace it and make your home look like the ones on Instagram. Maybe another blog post for another day… In the meantime, I’m referring to: https://konmari.com/], I still wanted to keep some flash. Additionally, or perhaps most critically, I love the front- and back-end maintenance of my blog as a pleasure in and of itself: whilst in one way I love that you’re reading this — thank you for honouring me with your presence, Esteemed Guest 🙏 🙇‍♂️ — I truly do not care if anybody reads my blog at all. I like having somewhere to drop my thoughts, collect my adventures, post some photos, and provide a web geek’s playground.

So I started to look at a static site generator (SSG). If you don’t know what a SSG [SSG: static site generator] is, I have two suppositions to make:

You should go Google that.

You may not actually be that interested in this post. You’ve been warned. 😆

I have yet to delve professionally into static site “JAM [JAM: Javascript, API and markup]stacks”, the tech I use at work utilises them but I’ve never configured or set it up myself. I decided to have a crack at Hugo after reading a few subreddits and declaring myself familiar with what Hugo has to offer. I also took a look at a few different frameworks for the CSS [CSS: cascading style sheets], as I decided at the outset not to use a theme. I’m doin’ this meself.

The key criteria I have for the technologies I’ve considered are:

It must be open source.

No cookies or invasions of my readers’ privacy. You’re welcome.

No over-reliance on one particular platform.

For example, I do not want to maintain huge package.json files due to every framework’s answer being:

npm install this-small-two-lines-of-code-plugin

No, I won’t just npm it. First tell me: “Why?!”

Of course, building something “on Hugo and TailwindCSS” means the platform is a key integrated component, but I want to be able to move my content elsewhere when I inevitably bore of Hugo and move to the next thing. I am a fickle bastard.

That said above, no stupid abstractions or religious adherence to DRY [DRY: don't repeat yourself] principles.

Some things in my site are hard-coded and definitely not content-agnostic. Why? It’s easier. I can always re-do the copyright notice in the next site I build.

The answer to every question is not always a huge YAML [YAML: Yet Another Markup Language] file and another layer of the stack.

DRY has kept food on many a developer’s table, much as lawyers adore complainants fighting a case on “the principle of the thing”.

In the end, I decided upon the following:

Hugo to generate the site.

TailwindCSS to generate the CSS.

Gulp to handle the Javascript, SVG [SVG: Scalable Vector Graphics] and any SCSS [SCSS: SASSy cascading style sheets] that isn’t Tailwind.

Git for version control.

One main repository for the site code and logic.

Another repository as a git submodule for the content.

~~Gitea for hosting my git repository.~~ Self-hosting my git repository on an instance of Charm’s Soft Serve.

~~DroneCI for building “production Hugo”.~~ I built a little Raspberry Pi-powered single board computer to build my Hugo site when not at my desk (i.e. on the bike, at work, travelling, etc…).

A DigitalOcean droplet for hosting the files. I’m aware I can use cheaper GitHub Pages et al. but I both don’t mind paying for the occasional bit of hosting and importantly: I may want to add some dynamic elements (such as PHP [PHP: PHP: Hypertext Preprocessor] forms, et cetera) at a later date. No stupid abstractions, remember?

Emperor of Rome: Ruling the Ancient Roman world, by Mary Beard

Tue, 24 Oct 2023 00:00:00 +0000

by Mary Beard, rated 3 out of 5
The best-selling author of The Fires of Vesuvius presents a comprehensive history of the social and political world of the Roman emperors including Julius Caesar, Nero, Alexander Severus, Caligula, and Marcus Aurelius.
— the publisher’s blurb

A nice relaxing birthday fishing session

Tue, 25 Jul 2023 20:43:00 +1100

I’m in Brisbane, Queensland for the Matildas vs Nigeria football match on Thursday night, as part of the FIFA [FIFA: Fédération internationale de football association] Women’s World Cup. As today is my birthday I decided to take the day off work and spend it fishing and relaxing in the sunshine. So I packed my light gear and travel rod and hitched a train out to Sandgate, and fished the beach around Shorncliffe and the river inlet into Cabbage Tree Creek.

The sun was shining and I was so warm, even though the locals were all packing the puffer jackets and looking like they were north of the wall 🤣! There was a decent 20 knot wind in my face and the surf was choppy, but I hit up a little rock wall next to the Shorncliffe Pier thinking with the shelter from the wind and the shallow beach it looked like a prime flattie spot, and I was right: caught a nice little 32cm flathead on a soft plastic.

From there I walked around the point and fished along the way, between rocks and surf until fishing from Baxters Jetty where I caught a decent little tailor. I kept walking into the inlet, following around a few yacht clubs until ending at a boat ramp where I had a chat with some locals who hadn’t had any luck for a few weeks.

I called it quits about 15:30 and headed off on the train to Nudgee Cemetery to go visit the grave of my grandmother and uncle and take Nan some flowers.

I then caught up with an old mate from Ballarat who’s living up here now, and we went for a nice birthday dinner at The Plough in Brisbane’s riverside dining district.

All up a nice day fishing and roaming around a new part of the world I hadn’t yet fished = a good way to spend my birthday!

A little flathead caught on the rockwall near Shorncliffe Pier

Walking around the point at Shorncliffe

Walking around the point to Cabbage Tree Creek

A tailor caught at Baxters Jetty

Selfie on Shorncliffe Beach

Rock wall next to Shorncliffe Pier

FIshing the rock wall at Shorncliffe

Melbourne to Brisbane by train for the Matildas

Sat, 22 Jul 2023 15:11:00 +1100

The FIFA [FIFA: Fédération internationale de football association] Women’s World Cup is in full swing and this lucky little bugger has tickets to the Australia vs. Nigeria match in Brisbane on 27 July. To make a real journey out of it, I decided to opt for the overnight express passenger train (XPT) from Melbourne, via Sydney, to Brisbane instead of flying.

I’ve never travelled in a sleeper carriage on the train before. I took the train home from Adelaide in 2019 but that was a day trip. I really wanted to try it and this was the perfect occasion. I had the time to get to Queensland (2 day journey) and I was able to secure a sleeper berth on both services (Melbourne to Sydney; Sydney to Brisbane). I shared the sleeper cabin last night with a young uni student named Damian, who was travelling home having caught the train down to Melbourne a few days earlier. His reason for taking the train was because he really loves trains, and public transport but had never ridden the XPT [XPT: express passenger train] before. He was a nice guy, but quite talkative, especially about his passionate interest in trains 🤣 so considering this week’s trip is partly a bit of respite from caregiving I found it slightly challenging to keep up the chit-chat for the whole journey.

Otherwise the journey was pleasant, relaxing and I really enjoyed it. I watched some Star Trek: Strange New Worlds, and read my book [Currently Flawed Hero by Chris Masters, about the Ben Roberts-Smith war crimes defamation case against Masters and Nick McKenzie, who wrote a similar and thrilling-to-read book about the case called Crossing The Line, which I recently finished]. There was a canteen in the middle carriage which served hot drinks and snacks, the staff were all friendly and helpful, and I really felt like my little working holiday had already started before I even get to Queensland.

I’m writing this now sitting at Central Station in Sydney. We left last night at about 20:00, and arrived this morning at 08:00. I had about 6.5 hours to kill before catching the 14:45 to Brisbane, which should get there about 05:00 tomorrow morning.

I left my heavy suitcase at Central in the baggage storage area and roamed down towards Haymarket, and then to the Ian Thorpe Aquatic Centre to have a sneaky shower. There are showers in the sleeper carriage of the train, but I wasn’t game last night so opted for the aquatic centre instead, which only cost me $4 entry. It’s a nice little trick Danielle and I often utilise when travelling through towns where we don’t have accommodation, as leisure centres offer a nice hot shower and somewhere to shave for a tiny fraction of the price of a motel room.

Walking out of the aquatic centre a fresh, new man I wandered down towards Darling Harbour and had some breakfast at Adria Bar, which was absolutely awful. The coffee managed to be both bland and burnt, whilst the bacon and eggs weren’t thoroughly cooked but the toast they were sitting on was burnt solid. I wasn’t going to say anything but the bill came to $44, and then the man asked me, so I gave him the brutally honest truth 😂.

From Darling Harbour I walked around to Circular Quay/The Rocks, checked out the George Street markets and then took the train back to Central. I bought myself a birthday cigar at Market City in Haymarket and checked out Paddy’s Market, then headed back to Central Station again and checked my luggage in, sat on the platform for a few hours and just basked in the warm sunshine.

It’s been a fun trip so far. I have a sleeper cabin on both legs of the trip, and although I shared last night I have this leg all to myself (so far: fingers crossed for no late bookings! 🤞).

Arriving in Brisbane, Sunday 23 July

Last night’s journey was far more comfortable. I enjoyed my sleeper cabin all to myself, got some good shuteye, and feel thoroughly relaxed. Of course the extra time in the journey is always going to be a factor, but I would elect to travel that way again over a flight in a heartbeat! Being able to stretch my legs, walk around, lay down and sleep, and just have some time to myself was pure bliss!

I arrived into Brisbane’s Roma Street Station this morning at 05:00! I headed to the hotel only to find they didn’t open until 09:00. How was I going to occupy 4 hours? By going fishing of course! 🤣

I walked down to the Brisbane River and climbed down from the bicycle pathway to some rocks, and hid my suitcase and bags under the pathway out of sight. [I wasn’t leaving them, but with my back turned I’m always a little nervous about theft.] I set up my travel rod and gear and cast some plastics, and some metal spoons. I caught a whopping dusky flathead, my personal best (PB) by a large margin: he would have gone 70–80 centimetres at least. I had left my landing net in the suitcase though, so after fighting him a fair bit I tried dragging him up on to the rocks to let him go, but he snapped off and took off before I could get the lure out of his mouth or get a photo. A very nice welcome to Brisbane, anyway…

I packed up after a few hours and visited a farmers’ market just up the road, got some nice produce for cooking during the week and took a taxi back to the hotel, where I’ve left my bags and come to a café called Coco Cozy to while away some time waiting for check-in. An old friend is going to take me to a nice Japanese garden nearby, so I’ll go do that before checking in later today.