The Wilderness

With my journey so far having taken me across the wide open farmlands from Launceston to St Helens, then the beautiful coastal road down to Swansea and across to Hobart, my third day in the car brought me into a third environment. Now travelling into the remote and unspoilt central Tasmania, the little part of unique Australia that could be ripped apart and sold on at huge profits, it’s pleasing to see that so much of it is protected.

One of the most valuable commodities hidden in this area of forest is a wood called Huon Pine. Those particularly into carptentry may have heard of it, though it is very rare and expensive. Those with a knowledge of natural geography may get a little more by learning it grows only in temperate rainforests – a phrase that means nothing to me, but I gather it is roughly equivalent to a cold rainforest, something that seems almost to be an oxymoron. Added to the fact that until British and Dutch settlers came along, it hadn’t been introduced anywhere else in the world, and you can see why it isn’t particularly widespread.

Each tree grows exceedingly slowly, taking between 2,000 and 3,000 years to reach the optimum size for harvesting, a height of just 10 to 20m. However, its reputation is secured when it was noted that the only thing slower than a Huon pine growing is a Huon pine decaying. The unique blend of oils, tight coils and other features that I don’t understand make it able to resist rotting and most wood-burrowing insects – with the right care, a Huon pine ship could sail forever.

Needless to say, it’s now a protected species. Some “sustainable” harvesting is still permitted, and for those who like their chopping boards, a Huon pine chopping board could be yours for just $90! (£60)

My journey across this landscape took me to The Wild in the Wilderness, a remarkable art project conceived seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Local artist Greg Duncan wanted to share the history of Tasmania the only way he knew how; by carving it into a 100m long display of Huon pine. So far, he’s only completed the first 30m, but it is a simply remarkable piece of work. Sadly, cameras aren’t allowed, but Google Images doesn’t let us down.

From his display (which also offered a most welcoming log fire, though certainly not burning the expensive pine) I continued travelling West towards an entirely different kind of carving; Queenstown, which described itself as ‘unflinchingly proud of it’s mining heritage’.

They certainly were. The whole place had a feel of clinging on to the 50s mining boom, when copper and even gold were discovered in the local hills. Visitors are actively encouraged to drive round the various mining sites and take in the view. Check out my photobucket for more photos of this, some of them really are quite incredible.

I only managed a short stay there before needing to continue on slightly out to the coast and to Strahan. Initially considered the more respectable retreat for those who didn’t want their every morning view to be of a massive hole in the ground, it remains a charming town getting the simple things right. An unspoilt quayside, a restaurant in the hills, everything close enough to be in walking distance, cheap and simple shops, and my favourite; a ‘rainforest walk’ through the local park to a waterfall.

They might not quite be Ralphs Falls, but they weren’t far off High Force. An echo of home is always welcomed here.

And this is perhaps why I most enjoy travelling the smaller villages as opposed to the big cities – my hostel for the night was delightful. It was almost entirely empty save for a handful of travellers like myself, and the owner and his dog. Undoubtedly, this is where you’ll learn the most interesting history and tips of where to go.

And that is where I leave it for this part. With a long post before, and a longer one to follow, I think we should keep this a little shorter.

And finally, I leave you with the rockstar Ned Kelly, who was outside a gas station for absolutely no reason.

And yes, that is a pirate behind him.