Notes from a weekend in Tasmania

The pull of trading in the busy life that is city life for a quieter, simpler, cleaner life out in nature was a force I contended with on a recent long weekend with friends in north Tasmania. Having taken the overnight Spirit of Tasmania ferry the night before after a particularly meeting-rich workweek, my first visit to the island thrust me into (almost) tech free living that was jarring and discombobulating for a full 24 hours, until the night sky and soothing remoteness of Tassie’s Northern Highlands settled my mind and urge to check my phone’s notifications. Also, shout out to Vodafone for a network that must have been designed to get you to look around, smell the fresh air, and force your phone to airplane mode because I couldn’t load as much as Google map for much of our time there ☺️.

In all seriousness, Tasmania isn’t perfect, politically, socially, or actually, even environmentally. But it didn’t need to be perfect to anchor me in the moment, in the delicious silence, crystal clear air, vast landscapes, and great local produce. I came across this passage from psychologist and meditation teacher Tara Brach’s book, Radical Acceptance shortly after returning to Melbourne.

“Convinced that we are not good enough, we can never relax. We stay on guard, monitoring ourselves for shortcomings. When we inevitably find them, we feel even more insecure and undeserving. We have to try even harder. The irony of all of this is … where do we think we are going anyway? One meditation student told me that he felt as if he were steamrolling through his days, driven by the feeling that he needed to do more. In a wistful tone he added, “I’m skimming over life and racing to the finish line—death.””

Tara Brach, Radical Acceptance (2003)

The student could have used a weekend like mine.

I returned to my Busy City Life promising to come back for seconds and thirds, of course. But also, I was reminded of Bill Gates’ powerful book on avoiding a climate disaster, hopeful that somewhere in the bustle of the city are many minds doing their bit to move society towards more sustainable, even regenerative, ways of operating, so that places like Tasmanian wilderness remain healthy for centuries to come. And down to my own individual, daily level, I returned with a renewed promise to try and consume a little more mindfully, whether buying local and seasonal produce, or spending a bit more for regeneratively farmed eggs and organic meat. Little choices here and there compound over time, after all.

Here’s some info on how we traveled, where we slept, where we soaked in unadulterated nature:

• Spirit of Tasmania: made for a little overnight adventure at the request of the ship-loving one in the group of friends I travelled with. Best option if you don’t want to spend money on car rental and you happen to be in or driving through Melbourne, because your car can travel with you on the ferry. Otherwise, the novelty can wear off quite quickly and a short flight to Launceston might be the best way to get to northern Tasmania.
• Tiny Escapes Cradle Valley: a handful of gorgeous, individualised cabins spaced well apart, with creature comforts (comfy beds, kitchens, fire pits) surrounded by lush forest and a short drive from Cradle Mountain. At night, you could hear a pin drop while staring, awestruck, at strands of the Milky Way above you.
• Cradle Mountain, Dove Lake Circuit Walk: the highlight of our weekend. An easy, scenic hike that takes about four hours, allowing you to soak up the views.
• Devils@Cradle: a conservation facility at Cradle Mountain doing incredibly important work supporting insurance populations of Tasmanian Devils and Tasmanian Quolls. Highly recommend doing a guided tour where you can learn so much about the mysterious and adorable (and endangered) Devils and Quolls.
• Sheffield: on a grocery run to gather supplies for a feast we intended to whip up at our lovely, remote accomodation, we inadvertently ended up at Tasmania’s Town of Murals. Every other building had a beautiful, quirky, sometimes hilarious scene painted on, following a tradition started in 1986 by artist John Lendis.
• Launceston: the final stop for half of my group. I wouldn’t say it was the highlight of our weekend, but Cataract Gorge made for a lovely walk with an eerily gorgeous Victorian-era park, complete with wild wallabies and a couple of very confident peacocks. Oh, and we had some of the best Indian food I’ve had in while there too, at a friendly, casual restaurant called Spice on Charles.