Saturday 31st March

We have had a few adventures and a night away from 2XS.  We are now (4.30) back on board, on a big strong mooring in Mill Bay, courtesy of Ron Morrison.  We didn’t want to leave 2XS on the wharf, in case a legitimate boat came in and wanted us to move.  It would have been a bit fraught, with us in Queenstown, kicking up our heels.

On Thursday night we rode our bikes around the waterfront, along a beautiful little path overhung with trees, and had dinner at the Railway Hotel.  Our neighbour, Younger Rodney from Petuna, had told us, in his economical way (Younger Rodney doesn’t use three words where one will do) that we should avoid Hamers, the pub across the road from the wharf, because the servings are too small, and that the Railway Hotel was the place to go.  The barmaid was very cheery and she said that they served much better beer than “the less cooler pub across the bay.”  We are our big helpings of very pubby pubfood and then rode home in almost total darkness… The beautiful little path overhung with trees was slightly less enchanting when we were negotiating it, slowly, more or less by braille.

Yesterday we pootled about Strahan and had chats with our BFFs Rodney the Older, and Ron, who showed us around his beautiful yacht, Maatsuyker.  Rodney the Younger found out we were staying overnight in Queenstown, and he became slightly more loquacious – “Jeez, mate,” he said to Pete.  “If you are staying in the center of town you had better take an axe handle to defend yourself.  They are a pack of wild mad bastards, over there.”  Oh goody…we had booked, and paid in advance, to stay at the Empire Hotel, which couldn’t be more central if it tried…

At 4.00 we were the only passengers on a big gleaming white bus to Queenstown.  Weehee Queenstown!  I just love Queenstown…it feels like a different country, FrontierLand!  And it is so very beautiful and wild, with all of the crazy little tin houses perched on the hilltops, the mountains crowding in on the town, the mines, the gravel football field.  The forest has grown riotously in the past twenty or so years.  There are still scars on the mountains from indiscriminate mining practices of the past, but basically there is lush green forest growing up and down the steep slopes.

We were only in Queenstown for a short period, but we had the best time.  We walked around a bit, after we had checked into our room.  Rooms!  Jonesy, the riotously cheerful bar attendant/ receptionist, had upgraded us to what passes for a suite at the Empire Hotel.  Not only a room with a weirdly placed double bed (weird because it was very hard to open and shut the door…) but also another adjoining room, with a tight little single bed and its own washbasin, just in case we should come to blows in the night and need to change sleeping arrangements.  The Empire is very shabby and run down.  Our suite was only $75 for the night and I am not going to complain at all about any shabbiness.  The water in the bathroom was hot, there was a kettle, cups, teabags, and the (weirdly placed…) bed was very comfortable.  The new manager, Craig, joined us for a while after dinner, full of enthusiasm for upgrading and promoting this very beautiful pub.  It really is glorious, with its majestic staircase, high ceilings, ceiling roses, lobbies.  We were very happy to have stayed there.

We were the only people in the dining room… Our very sweet waitress anxiously followed Pete back to the table to place a large Number 8 at his side.  “I don’t think you are going to have any trouble finding us, are you?” said Pete, beaming at her fondly.

The rest of our evening’s entertainment in Queeny was, basically, a pub crawl.  We had a drink at the Empire, then one at the RSL Club, the Queenstown Club, the Mt Lyell Hotel, then back to the Empire.  And in case this sounds like a totally alcoholic sojourn, we were, in fact on A Mission.

Pete had a friend at boarding school, St Virgils in Hobart, who came from Queenstown, and he was interesting in tracking him down after very many years without any contact.  So everywhere we went, we made enquiries about Tony Sherrin.  I found a reference to him on a genealogical site – Anthony Patrick Sherrin, born 7^th July 1945.  (If anyone reading this has an inkling where Tony might be now – please let us know!) 

So…we had A Mission, and we were unsuccessful.  But in the process of making enquiries at five different watering holes in Queenstown on a Friday night, we actually had a most wonderful time.  Each place we went to, we were greeted by friendly people, more than happy to chat, reminisce, tell a joke or two.  We did not feel the need for an axe handle, not even once…

This morning we got up not-too-early and sauntered up the street to have breakfast.  We had noticed people eating delicious-looking food in a small café up the main street, and decided to try our luck.  Our luck was in!  Café Serenade – go there!  We had to wait a very VERY long time for our food to arrive, but when it did, it was just fantastic.  We had ordered bacon and eggs with hollandaise sauce, and the cook decided that we would also like potato rostis and steamed spinach, all beautifully cooked, for no extra charge.  When we left, Pete gave them some extra money; it really was a most wonderful breakfast.

We were just in time (10.45) at the station for our trip on the Abt Railway.  It is a wonderful trip, through the thickest rainforest imaginable.  Hard to imagine how difficult it must have been building it, in the 1800s.  Apparently it took only two and a half years to chop and hew and dig and lay the track the 35 kilometres from Queenstown to Strahan.  And then when it came time to set it all up again in 1999, it took FOUR and a half years, although the track was already dug and they had state of the art  digging and lifting equipment.  And a budget of $35 million.

It was a great way to spend the day, peaceful, beautiful, interesting. 

At lunchtime we met a man who told us he has been to 109 different countries… So at this very moment Pete is googling Countries of The World so he can count how many he has been to…and maybe he has been to MORE than 109!!

It is quite a long walk from the railway terminus to Mill Bay.  We had used our bus tickets going up to Queenstown the previous day (the train fare includes the bus) but the kindly bus driver allowed us to go back into Strahan in his big gleaming white bus.  And then, after just a brief bit of chatting-up from Pete, he took us as far as the roundabout along the way.  But when he realised we still had, oh, maybe a kilometer left to walk, well, that wouldn’t do, would it??  So he took us all the way to where the tender was lying in its little sheltered spot between two of Ron Morrison’s big fishing boats.  A few minutes ago Pete said, “I am so enjoying this Tasmanian leg of our journey, aren’t you?”  Yes indeed!  It has been great fun, with so much kindness and generosity coming our way, not to mention the overwhelming physical beauty of this part of the world.