Touring Tasmania The getaway guide
Joni Mitchell’s song Woodstock surely plays on the musical device, or in the mind, of anyone who has ever stayed at The Gardens in the Bay of Fires. The instant Taylors Beach started to fade in the rear vision mirror, the lyrics came from nowhere and entered my consciousness as a mantra to revisit this most special and beautiful part of the planet – permanently, pending six numbers falling in the right places.
Driftwood, Bay of Fires, was our palace for the duration of our stay in paradise and you would be hard-pressed to find a place in Tasmania as perfect as this oasis of comfort and style. Everything about the house and the location breathes relaxation. After the mandatory placement of ale, bubbles, cheese and Lease 65 oysters in the fridge to await salt and sun-nourished humans, and it was onto the whitest of white sands in front of the bluest of blue seas to breathe in the air carried between us and Paparoa National Park, New Zealand, 2,000 odd kilometres beyond the horizon.
If I was a salmon in a cage in the southern waters of Tasmania, destined to be smoked and served with Pyengana Dairy Reserve Vintage Cloth-Bound Cheddar, and given an escape through a break in the net from a freakish fire (it happened), whilst dodging the nets and lines of opportunistic humans in boats, happenstance to pass a local flathead, I would ask where the best place to escape to would be.
I am sure the answer would be Bay of Fires.
After an exhausting but incredible journey, I would bask in the beauty of the clear waters, wander the rocks and shoreline, and eventually feast on some calamari laid out for me conveniently on silver, floating in front of me as if a gift from the gods.
It was no daydream. Surf lapping at my knees, rod in one hand and a refreshing Little Rivers Pale Ale in the other, on a deserted beach, was enough. A lot of Tasmanians are nodding right now as they read this.
There are many places on this island that make you reflect on just how lucky we are to live where we do, but The Gardens has to be on top of my list for relaxation. I recently spent some time at Bruny Island and was entranced by the evolution of the ecosystems of vegetation shaped by the Southern Ocean, and the same thing happened in The Gardens.
Same but different: if Cloudy Bay on Bruny is an unforgiving, Antarctic-distorted landscape that evokes rock music, The Gardens evokes the chill still of reggae. On Bruny, I thought of cranky tiger snakes and thick walking boots; at The Gardens I went barefoot, confident that any snake there is be too relaxed looking at the view to get remotely annoyed if a sunburned toe got too close.
. . .
With ales, cheese platter, tunes and fishing rods in hand, we meander down the stairs of Driftwood over soft grasses and through sea breeze-sculpted tea trees to a nature-defined pathway framing the Tasman Sea. Our bare feet touch the sand, our ears embrace a backing track of waves crashing on the beach, and the world is most excellent.
It is easy to love nature at The Gardens – not just appreciate it, but deeply love everything that is a part of your world. Half an hour of watching a Pacific gull grab a proffered piece of bait and circle the thermals until blending in with the clouds is an effortless wonder of well-designed evolution. A trio of black cockatoos gliding over the coastline on their way to the next conifer convinces me that should reincarnation be a thing, a black cockatoo will suit me fine.
There are rock pools you can stare into for an hour and imagine the life of the community of sand floors and pristine miniature forests of various sea plants. Does politics exist in such communities?
At one point I was walking along the shoreline and came upon a red starfish that had miscalculated its grip and ended just above the receding tide line. Call me a hippy but I could sense the distress of this beautiful creature. Whilst unknowledgeable in a starfish’s capabilities for defence, I found a stick to distance my potentially vulnerable skin during the rescue exercise. A couple of flips and the starfish was back below the tideline.
The Gardens is heaven on earth. Driftwood, Bay of Fires, is heaven on earth with food and comfortable beds.
There are three things that someone considering a trip to The Gardens needs to put on the list. First, one must bring cash to purchase Lease 65 oysters on the way (no plastic accepted). Second, visit The Shop In the Bush near St Helens, a treasure chest of history with old books, jewellery, antiques and much more. Go there before you get to The Gardens – if you do not find a book there then you are not trying. Third, travel via Derby and visit Floating Sauna, a room of wood-fired heat at the end of a pier over Lake Derby where you get very hot, sweat, dive into the lake and do it again. And again. For an hour. Do it first thing in the morning with the mist coming off the lake and the sun rising over the crest of the hills.
Just do it. You will thank me.
Brett Charlton is the Launceston-based, Tasmanian manager for global logistics company Agility, and a freelance writer in several areas, but primarily business commentary for the Tasmanian Business Reporter under thought leadership for shipping and logistics.
