Monthly Archives: March 2021

Left the Bay of Fires to start winding my way to Strahan and the stunning Franklin Gordon. My sister had mentioned delicious cheese at Pyengana but was a little over winding roads, so I thought I would miss it on this trip. I headed the Miriam mobile toward Cradle Mountain, but clearly, I was supposed to eat cheese. About 30km out the road, I saw the little sign to Pyengana, so the gods were obviously telling me something. The thing I have enjoyed most about the Miriam adventure is the fabulous people I have met along the way. There are the most interesting people hidden away in camping grounds. Last night I had the most fabulous guitarist who strummed Eagles songs late into the night. On the other side, I had lovely people from Nambour.
I stopped at the lovely Pyengana café in the middle of nowhere. Lots of happy looking cows that I took as a good sign for nice cheese. Ordered the beautiful looking cheese tasting plate and had what was arguably one of the best coffees anywhere. Guess happy cows also make delicious milk. I sat down to munch on cheese in the middle of gorgeous dairy farming country. My lovely neighbors from last night walked in and asked could they join me. Oh, this camping stuff is so social. After a massive drive through the Tasmanian Wilderness, I am holed up in Deloraine on the edge of a beautiful river. There are ducks everywhere. I sat in the glorious sunshine reading my latest novel and watched the platypus playing in front of me. Tonight’s chat was with a lovely couple from North of Launceston – berry farmers who were just away for the long weekend. By far, these chats with random strangers have been the best bit of my little Miriam soiree. It is so damn quiet tonight on the side of a river. No guitar tonight, but the wonderful solitude is also amazing. Tomorrow I head to one of my favorite places, Strahan. Tonight it is just me, fellow travelers, ducks, and platypus, and the world really feels like a fabulous place.

The drive around Binalong Bay to Eddystone Point was absolutely stunning. The fiery orange lichen on the rocks and km after km of white sandy beaches makes it clear why the Bay of Fires is one of the world’s best beaches. The water is the most vivid turquoise, and the rocks are covered with their orange, fiery splashes. I stopped on the way to Eddystone Point and set up a picnic on the beach. I had the beach totally to myself. After my whining about the weather in Port Arthur, today would have made Miriam reach for her hanky to do some serious flapping and fanning. It was 28C on the beach, and there was just me and the seagulls.
It got a wee bit windy, so I packed up and drove along a bit to the peaceful beach at Cozy Corner. Had a lovely couple of hours reading a gory crime novel. Between convicts and murderers, I will probably be awake all night, but I am sure a couple of glasses of lovely Tasmanian wine will help.

I had forgotten how remote much of Tassie is. No wonder they thought it was a great place to dump my convict relatives. Now I get a little stressed when I can’t find a shop to get water (so have to drink tonic minus gin instead), get halfway across a thick forest and realise the Miriam machine churns through fuel, and am not sure where in the hell I am, as there is no mobile coverage. Spare a thought for fair skinned, brown haired, hazel eyed seventeen-year-old Harriet. She arrived on Christmas day 1843 aboard a hellhole of a convict ship and was pushed through the streets with 203 other women to the Cascades Factory.
My biggest stress was finding a park at the Woollies in Sorell for more tonic and fig and olive artisan crackers. My grandmother Harriet’s stress would have been – OMG, where am I and will I die?
I headed up the convict trail through the beautiful towns of Richmond, Oatlands, and Ross. I am sure Harriet was lucky to get bread and water, but I am modeling myself on Miriam. Of course, I stopped at the wood-fired convict bakery in the lovely town of Ross and stuffed a scallop pie in my mouth.
Turned the Miriam machine to the East Coast via Rocky Hills to stomp on the grounds of the badly behaved Henry. The drive took me through the most beautiful but remote landscape. I have no idea how grandfather Henry managed to walk it, as it took me hours in a fuel-guzzling beast. Romantically, I imagine Henry building the stunning colonial bridges dotting the landscape. However, I think he was much more likely out in leg irons cutting roads through the forests that the Miriam machine now travels.
As I watched the fuel gauge drift lower and lower, I had a moment, as no fuel stations for hours. As I edged into the little fuel station in Scamander, I breathed a sigh of relief. I did a turnaround back to the south along the coast. Then another turnaround to the lovely St Helen’s where gin got added to the tonic, and I slept amongst the crashing waves dreaming of my convict past.

The ever sensible Virginia reminded me that if I was going to emulate the fantastic Miriam Margolyes and drive around Australia in a campervan, I needed to dress like her. Virginia reinforced woolly socks and runners, so I sit here resplendent just like Miriam.
I am a camping sort of gal. Well, camping under 5 stars in a swish hotel. Maybe swish hotel pre-COVID as many swish hotels seem to be now little SARS CoV – 2 incubators (especially if you are a tennis star).
So, I was channel flicking a few weeks ago and saw Miriam in her campervan driving the length and breadth of this great country. Miriam was born in 1941, so I did think if Miriam can do this, I can too. I did sort of forget that Miriam had a camera crew and entourage, and probably a chef and hair and makeup. I also forgot Miriam is a wee bit shorter and less likely to whack her head on the roof of a campervan, BUT here I am. Oh, Miriam – what fun this is.
I had my first flight with the kangaroo on my tail for over a year, and I think the pilot was a bit out of practice. Landing at Hobart airport was definitely not smooth. A short Uber to the campervan getting place. The Uber driver was such a lovely man. Had a master’s in hotel management and an MBA. Lost his job at a hotel in Sydney with the COVID crisis. Now driving an Uber in Tassie.
A bit of a wait for the van, but watching a video re how to drive the thing eased my nerves a bit.
Hit the road and realised it is easier than driving a car as you can see so much. Helps that it is auto with cruise control and all the other bits.
Headed south on the convict trail to wonderful Port Arthur. Sort of forgot too that there is not much between Port Arthur and Antarctica – OMG, it was cold. I did think that Miriam would always carry a brolly, so I was very pleased I brought mine.
I set up camp and cooked a lovely dinner – a fat wombat and a group of pademelons watched me from amongst the tree ferns. I have really forgotten how beautiful Tasmania is (and how cold).