Targa Tasmania

Last weekend was Targa Tasmania.

Phillip described it to me as a race over several days that goes all through the state of Tasmania over "the worst roads." One of these roads happens to be right where his parents live.

The part they live on isn't particularly terrible, but they do live at the bottom of a rather steep hill that comes right after (or before, depending on which way you're driving) a steep turn AND a blind turn. They also live right next to "The Gog" which is the road (and also a working forest) we take to go get the most fantastic ice cream ever. It's narrow, curvy, and one side goes up a mountain, the other down it. None of those sissy guard rails or shoulders or lines marking the middle that you'd find on American roads. No, these you either drive at breakneck speeds and chance killing yourself and others, or drive carefully and hope everyone else is mostly sticking to their side of the road and driving as carefully as you. Oh, and that you don't come upon any bikers suddenly.

Anyway, even driving slowly, these are windy crazy curvy blind roads with tons of potential to spin off or crash into a bank or get violent motion sickness.

Phillip dealt well with my kitchen-sharing grumpiness

So even though I'm not a car person, the thought of people who know what they're doing racing along these roads sounded pretty exciting. Plus, there's just something about fast cars on not a NASCAR track that is attractive.

We got up early and drove to Phillip's parents house, offering to make breakfast. (We were supposed to be locked in from 9AM to about 4PM when the race should be over.) Phillip cooked the whole-wheat pancakes I'd mixed, and I made some pretty fantastic little apple fritters (first attempt, so I was happy trying something new and delicious), ate, and then waited for the race to start.

Apple fritters, freshly glazed and warm and delicious

Phillip's pile o' pancakes

Lots of cars started going by, so Phillip and I went and stood in the light rain getting poor photos and hoping for spin-outs, crashes, and mostly cars overtaking each other on the corner. We thought what we were watching were the touring cars (cars that are done up, fast, pretty, expensive, but their owners don't want to actually race them for fear of them getting damaged, so they just parade them around). They really weren't driving any faster than what we would do on those roads.

So as my camera battery started to die, we decided, after half an hour, to take a break and warm up inside and let my battery charge. All thinking that the REAL cars would be coming through much later, as had been the norm for years.

Ten minutes after we got in the house, no more cars. Well, no more RACE cars. The police car went through with lights and sirens indicating the end of the race, and then... regular-type people.




So.... it was kind of disappointing. It was all over (for our section, anyway) in about 2 hours (or less, I wasn't really timing it). But at least we got a delicious family breakfast, and then (Bornstein Targa tradition) pumpkin soup for lunch.



I later learned there was a bike race that same weekend (learned by driving through it in Sheffield on Sunday). Honestly, I almost wish we'd gotten to watch that instead. More hard-core participants.

Because these guys and galls tackled Tasmanian roads in the RAIN on BIKES

Liffey Falls Fail

Last weekend, Phillip and I, because of canceled plans and injured shoulders, ended up driving out to do the short hike to Liffey Falls to try and, well, see the falls.

This photo doesn't do the Big Tree justice.
It's just MASSIVE

This would be our second attempt. The first was during my visit here last January. We ended up taking the wrong trail and walking for hours on what looked like nothing more than some goat path. We saw some little waterfalls, and it was an undeniably beautiful walk. However, my knee problem flared up because of the roughness of the trail, and we went in prepared for an hour long easy walk, not a 5 hour long hike over fallen trees, rocks, and some, at times, rather slippery and steep terrain.

We were also distracted by a sign pointing to a "Big Tree" path, that led to, well, a big tree. A REALLY big tree.

Anyway, this time, we knew which path we were supposed to go on. So after a 30+ minute drive, we arrived at the park, started walking, and, of course, the main viewing platform was closed because it's being reconstructed.

Yay.

But if I can't bring my firearms,
how will I defend myself from vicious raptors?

Attempt number two failed....We still haven't seen Liffey Falls.

Oh well. The walk was still pretty. Especially if you like scenes from Jurassic Park. Or pretending you're in Lord of the Rings....

Opportunities like this make me wish I had a better lense

A Little Birdie Told Me

Little Indie (our not-so-small-anymore kitten) is starting to bring us home... gifts. His mamma (Asparagus) has brought us a rat and a baby rabbit before. Both of which are fine because they're pests here. She also brings us lots of skinks. Not good, because when she eats them, they make her sick. Plus, I'm tired of picking up wounded skinks and releasing them into our hot house. And I'm not happy with the cats killing native species either, but a cat is a cat and we knew this when we decided to keep the two of them.

The first thing Indie brought me was a Green Rosella. I chased him down and forced him to drop the poor thing. Thankfully, he's not yet realized how to properly catch things or kill them, so the poor bird flew off immediatly.

Then he brought us this little Silvereye.

Well, more brought it in the house, and Phillip noticed it, forced Indie to drop it, and asked me to pick up the poor stunned thing that was now sitting on our living room floor, missing most of its tail feathers.

I put it in the pocket of the fleece jacket I was wearing (it seemed to like that), mixed up some sugar water, and walked out to the chicken shed, and let it cling to the front of my jacket. Poor little bird must have been quite stunned, as it did nothing for about 7 minutes but sip a few drops of sugar water off my finger. It then seemed to suddenly realize where it was and what was going on because it took off quite suddenly.

Indie was punished and not allowed to go out the rest of the day.

A gift from the bottom of my... ocean

Well, now that I've heard back from my mom and dad, I suppose I can show what I've been working on (very very slowly, in between other projects and my laziness) for the past few months.

It's hard to think of gifts for people in general. It's even harder if you try to think of something to send home that people just can't get back home. Or get easily. There's always the fall-back of Cadbury's chocolate. While that's more British than Australian, there IS a Cadbury's factory on Tasmania. So what we send back is more Australian? (And to answer your question, Malory, YES, when you visit, we WILL take you there).

However, there is only so much chocolate you can send back, and it's a gift that can quickly dwindle to nothing. Also, I think they've changed the recipe, and it doesn't taste nearly as good as it did 2 years ago. (Except the Dark Bubbly. That stuff is AMAZING).

Then there are the things you can buy at tourist shops. Which are EVERYWHERE. And all carry about the same stuff. Tee-shirts, wood work done with Tasmanian timbers, crafts, paintings, "authentic" aboriginal instruments, and then all that knick-knacky stuff. None of which I really want to burden my parents with. I was told outright they didn't want any anyway.

So, wanting to send something truly Tasmanian (or at least Australian), and something somewhat special, I set out making these:

I saw a chime similar to these in some shop being sold for $20+. I honestly didn't pay much attention to the price, as much as I loved the thing, because my instant reaction was "I can make that". After much surfing the web and Etsy, I figured out a pretty basic way to do it, and, well, did it.

So yeah, they're pretty beginner, and not that wonderful looking, but I really really like them, and hope the family members I gave them to did too. (Or DO, unless they tossed them out). I made each with shells Phillip and I have collected on our many walks on the beach. Mostly a simple white, some-type-of-snail shell, then throwing in some others. I just liked the simple white with the driftwood (also collected on our walks). And then I threw some broken ones in there, just because I liked the worn-out more natural look it gave the chimes. And they sound very nice when they clink together in the wind! Very... beachy.

For my dad though, I needed something a bit more.... manly. So he ended up with a jar of "the poison thing that lives in a shell, that spikes you when you pick it up." (Check out Come to Australia You Might Accidently Get Killed. It's hilarious, and we played it at our wedding...) It's a book end. Or paper weight. Or something cool he can put in his office next to his Emu egg and people can come look at and go, "wow, that's neat!" (only not for my amazing artwork and brief info written about the conus, more about the fact that there is such a thing as a venomous snail).

It's a Conus shell, though I haven't truly for sure identified what KIND of conus. And no, I didn't get them fresh. I'm not stupid. (Though most of the types of conus here aren't deadly, they just make you really sick).

**All shells used were cleaned VERY well in hot water, then either bleach or methylated spirits, then rubbed with oil to give it a tiny bit of shine. Driftwood was quarantined for months.

So Long, Farewell...

All our American guests are gone (picture a very sad face maybe holding back some tears).

The Rules left Wednesday afternoon, and the boys left early this morning. Though, not as early as they were meant to. But, before I tell THAT story, I of COURSE have to relate our wonderful walk yesterday, to wind up their trip.

It was in the rain. And not just the normal rain that we get here, like, 90% of the time (I'm only sort of joking about the 90%...). It was a DOWNPOUR. And beautiful. Most of the day the clouds teetered between pouring buckets and just plain hard rain.

But, around 5, there was a small break in the rain, so we decided to go for a walk.

By break, I mean it was just regular raining. And by break, I mean a few minutes because our walk went for almost two hours, and we all came back absolutely drenched.

It was worth it though. While it may have been ridiculously wet out, it was warm enough that it wasn't annoying to be that wet. That, and we were moving quite a lot, so the drenching kept sweating at bay.

And it smelled wonderful out there. We walked up the back of the Paradise property my in-laws own, through forestry property. So lots and lots of large pines, ferns and moss and blackberries and native other undergrowth. Mix all that with the general freshness of the air here, and clean hard rain, and it smelled just... divine. The clean smell of pine and plants and rain and fresh dirt....

Taking the main road home

Not one inch dry.... but it was fantastic!

So, Irish stew was eaten, goodbyes were said, and off we went. But not before the two Anthonys got some more quality time.

Home we went, and then they packed. Well, MATT packed, I packed Anthony's bags since I had gifts to send home that I didn't want breaking. Matt checked the flights, and their first one from Tasmania (out of Launceston) was delayed to take off at 9:30AM instead of 6:30. Which wasn't terrible news because the 6:30AM flight meant we needed to be up by 3:30 in order to wake up a tiny bit and drive to Launceston to make the flight. 

Phillip and I checked it around 2:30AM though, and it was delayed until 10:30 (because of fog, which is a risk you take when you fly out of Launceston). Not nearly enough time for them to make their second big flight from Melbourne to Chicago. So dear tired Phillip spent time online and on the phone trying to figure something out. After a few more hours of sleep, and some more calling, he finally got hold of someone who was EXTREMELY helpful. The Qantas airline ended up putting the boys on a Jet Star flight that left earlier. Then Jet Star ended up just putting them on a flight straight to Sydney to catch up with their big flight to the States. 

All worked out ok, as far as we know. They should be in the air right now, and Phillip and I will be working on catching up on two weeks worth of lost sleep (to a very good cause!), and getting used to a quiet house again...

Simon Martin Whips

Today we got to fulfill one of Anthony's requests for this trip: A visit to Simon Martin Whips in Devonport.

Anthony says he just googled "things to do in Australia" (though something tells me he made it a bit more specific to our area) and found Simon Martin amongst all the attractions.Phillip and I drive past the place all the time (or at least the road that leads to the entry to it) but have never ventured in. Phillip's mother, however, knows him, and used to buy her leather craft things from him. Back when she did leather craft, that is.

So she knew him well enough to call him up and warned... I mean... told him we would love to stop in, would he be willing to show Anthony a bit about how he made the whips? Oh course, showing some true Tasmanian hospitality, he said yes.

So when we stopped in, he almost immediately knew who we were and got to work showing Anthony his craft, and answering his MANY questions. And even gave us a bit of a show cracking his whips!




He didn't do it for nothing, though. Not only were we all pretty impressed, but Anthony ended up buying a nice (handmade Simon Martin original) Australian Stockwhip (it's quite pretty), and one of his DVDs on learning how to crack whips.








We finished our day with a late lunch/VERY early dinner with some fish n'chips. At the beach, of course.

Fish= Flake, a kind of delicious shark

Ocean Time!

For the end of our conference (Monday, now two days ago) we went to the bluff out in Devenport for just some "hanging out" fellowship time, and so that the visitors could enjoy the beach.

Unfortunately, most of the time most people were there was during high tide. Fortunatly, it was beautiful, sunny, and the ocean just doesn't ever seem to look... bad. In fact, high tide means better waves most of the time, and it's still just absolutely beautiful. So while tide pools weren't really visible, it was still nice to be able to relax with everyone at the beach.

However, because of the violent eppisodes of vomiting that have been making their way through our little group, along with a lot of late nights and early-ish mornings, most people were just wiped, and went home after a few hours. Matt, Anthony, Phillip, Danella, and I decided to stick around some more since the tide was making it's way out.

So, YAY, we got to show Matt and Anthony some tide pool wonders! As well as bring back some nice photos, shells, and memories.

Woo! At the OCEAN!

After building two sandcastles, the boys (and kids, not pictured) threw rocks at the wall built to keep the water out. 

Let the splashing of Danella start!

Boys decided to take a dip in the cold water. Thankfully, you adjust pretty quick to the temperature and its LOADS of fun!

Danella and Matt looking in a tide pool

Matt made a friend! The crab sat on his finger for ages

Anthony and his starfish