Little Devils
Until 20 years ago the Tasmanians were ashamed to be so closely associated with the convict history of Australia. This came to me from a few sources so I'm not, for a change, making it up. Tasmania used to be named Van Diemen's Land and it was the site of the first convict colony here in the Antipodes. This surprised me as I thought that New South Wales had that distinction, but NSW was a convict settlement whereas TAS was an actual corrective institution. Or so it goes.
The Island does not feel like Australia. It's cold, wet, very green. Its capital Hobart is on the same latitude as Christchurch in NZ. The road signs are different from the rest of Australia and they all have a faintly English accent when they speak. They are reviled by some mainlanders as backward, inbred, faintly moronic, farmers. This is all balls, naturally. I found them to be incredibly friendly and hospitable even in the towns. I guess this temperament befits people who live in such a fertile and gentle place. The island itself is almost 50% National Parkland and even hosts a UNESCO World Heritage Area. It is a beautiful place and even in the rain, and my God can it rain here, it still exudes a tranquility that I cannot describe.
I started in Hobart and effectively worked my way around the island counter-clockwise by purple hire car. I started in Port Arthur and wished I hadn't. Port Arthur was the second penal settlement opened in about 1835. This succeeded the settlement out West on Sarah Island and was designed to be a more "enlightened" prison employing new ideas about reform. It was still a labour camp where the inmates worked on building ships, but the facilities were better and the location more hospitable.
There is a good open-air museum in Port Arthur which allows you to walk around the buildings that are left standing. It closed as a penal settlement in about 1850 after transportation ended and only some of the buildings were taken down and rebuilt elsewhere. Most of the damage to these old building does not stem from exposure to the elements or age but from locals routinely destroying them in the early 20th century. As I said earlier they did not like the connection with their convict past and treated all relics of this era with contempt. Buildings were torn down, either for fun or for more serious rebuilding or reuse. This attitude pervaded well into the 1980s when people started to think of it less as a stain on their island's history but more as part of their shared heritage. So from that time on these old settlements and other relics of that age have been preserved and lessons learned. I got told all of this from one of the guides that showed me around.
I felt that Port Arthur had a very bad aura, so to speak. The settlement was never that brutal, but up a hill partly hidden behind the ruins of a barracks is a largely intact building known as the "Special Jail". This was based on the design of Pentonville Prison in London and was solely used for solitary confinement of inmates. This place gave me the willies and even when I walked through its corridor with empty cells either side of me, each one inky black, I could not help feel that I was being watched. A few of the inmates were driven insane by the isolation imposed upon them here. Probably just my imagination coupled with the gallon of coffee I drank that morning. It was unsettling anyway.
One of the younger guides told me that there are a lot of ghost sightings here. They do offer a ghost tour at night which I decided not to do (scaredy-pants) but she said that in the house which we were sat in that she frequently sees an angry man walking around upstairs, a lady-in-grey who walks the verandah at the front of the house, and hears children playing out the back. She told me that it's nothing like the Scooby-Doo-Man-In-A-Blanket thing, but that the spooks look and feel like real people. Visitors have in the past complained to staff of guides dressed in period costume who have not spoken when asked questions. None of the staff there wear period costume... (Ooooooh!)
Another reason I got the willies here was for a more sad reason. In 1996 a man with an automatic rifle came into the museum complex and killed 35 people in cold blood. The incident was the largest mass-murder in Australia's history and it led to a big change in their gun laws. There is a memorial to it on the site of an old cafeteria where most of the killings took place. It's still so recent that present staff members can recall it.
Maybe because of this, the rain, or the fact my hostel was empty of other guests I was glad to leave.
The rest of my trip I spent visiting small towns with English names (Richmond, Swansea, Devonport) and the innumerable National Parks here. I came to TAS for the walking and was not disappointed with al the well managed day walks they had to offer. Some of the scenery was truly beautiful and to be out there with views like that and the fresh air was just what I needed. I also stayed off the booze for a couple of weeks, which is incredible in itself really. Damn I'm wholesome.
Out West is the Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Claire National Park which forms part of the wilderness that covers almost all of the West of the island. I'd like to come back and complete the Overland Track which can take up to 5 days. Wilderness is no understatement either. From the top of one of the (smaller) mountains I walked up I could see no settlements or towns between me and the horizon wherever I looked. It really is just you and the wombats.
Sarah Island is right out West and was Tasmania's first penal settlement. It was a rubbish site for one really as the harbour in which is sits has a tiny opening for ships to pass through which meant that a lot of shipping was lost to the reef. It is still exposed to the roaring forties, the westerly winds at this latitude, which can knock you over. The life here was hard but after they sorted out a decent windbreak and got the settlement going it was actually quite civilised, for a prison anyway.
An experienced shipwright came here as a civilian and started the ship yard which became so efficient it was knocking out more ships, good ships, than anywhere else in the colonies. There was a bakery, a dormitory made from brick, decent rations, and a trade taught to each inmate. When its time came to close most of them risked escape rather than be sent to Port Arthur. As an aside, one escape consisted of eight men who managed to get across the harbour to mainland and try to walk across the island to Hobart. As the men in the party got weaker and their rations ran out they resorted to cannibalism, eating the weak. Before long only two men were left. They did not trust each other and stayed awake for days. Eventually one of them fell asleep and was promptly killed an eaten by his "mate". When the hungry man was picked up by the fuzz he still had bits of his mate in his tucker-bag (or hand-bag, or leg-bag if you will, heh). He was probably tastier than some of the tins of soup I've been eating.
I did not get a sense of foreboding on Sarah Island. This might have been because it was a slightly happier prison, if I can call it that, or just that the weather was superb on the day. There was no wind at all, much to the disappointment of the guide, and the sun shone.
The rest of my trip took me East back towards Hobart. More walking and empty hostels. I knew that this was the off-season but these hostels were like the hotel in The Shining. I found that I was talking to myself a lot and on the one occasion that there was someone else there I did not see him. It was only when he coughed that I noticed his presence. Most embarrassing.
It was in a hotel's "Budget Accommodation" that I very nearly cracked. It had been a tiring drive up and down endless switchbacks over mountains, and it was late. The Portakabin that I had been assigned was cold and none too clean. I found a leech in one of the blankets and human hairs stuck to the sheets. Meh. I did not even know that they had leeches here. It felt my wrath anyway.
So it was back to Hobart. It's a tiny city with not a lot going on. I ran out of luck today as it's the Royal Hobart Show and the town has closed down completely. Just me and the automated Internet kiosk. I wanted to watch the pig-racing at the show and maybe sample the delightful chutneys, but I cannot be arsed frankly. I fly out of TAS tonight to Melbourne and I will be a little sad to leave.
Tasmania is a complex place. The people have an interesting history and it's certainly the most interesting state that I've visited; definitely the most distinct. I'm grateful to have sampled it and will return one day.
The Island does not feel like Australia. It's cold, wet, very green. Its capital Hobart is on the same latitude as Christchurch in NZ. The road signs are different from the rest of Australia and they all have a faintly English accent when they speak. They are reviled by some mainlanders as backward, inbred, faintly moronic, farmers. This is all balls, naturally. I found them to be incredibly friendly and hospitable even in the towns. I guess this temperament befits people who live in such a fertile and gentle place. The island itself is almost 50% National Parkland and even hosts a UNESCO World Heritage Area. It is a beautiful place and even in the rain, and my God can it rain here, it still exudes a tranquility that I cannot describe.
I started in Hobart and effectively worked my way around the island counter-clockwise by purple hire car. I started in Port Arthur and wished I hadn't. Port Arthur was the second penal settlement opened in about 1835. This succeeded the settlement out West on Sarah Island and was designed to be a more "enlightened" prison employing new ideas about reform. It was still a labour camp where the inmates worked on building ships, but the facilities were better and the location more hospitable.
There is a good open-air museum in Port Arthur which allows you to walk around the buildings that are left standing. It closed as a penal settlement in about 1850 after transportation ended and only some of the buildings were taken down and rebuilt elsewhere. Most of the damage to these old building does not stem from exposure to the elements or age but from locals routinely destroying them in the early 20th century. As I said earlier they did not like the connection with their convict past and treated all relics of this era with contempt. Buildings were torn down, either for fun or for more serious rebuilding or reuse. This attitude pervaded well into the 1980s when people started to think of it less as a stain on their island's history but more as part of their shared heritage. So from that time on these old settlements and other relics of that age have been preserved and lessons learned. I got told all of this from one of the guides that showed me around.
I felt that Port Arthur had a very bad aura, so to speak. The settlement was never that brutal, but up a hill partly hidden behind the ruins of a barracks is a largely intact building known as the "Special Jail". This was based on the design of Pentonville Prison in London and was solely used for solitary confinement of inmates. This place gave me the willies and even when I walked through its corridor with empty cells either side of me, each one inky black, I could not help feel that I was being watched. A few of the inmates were driven insane by the isolation imposed upon them here. Probably just my imagination coupled with the gallon of coffee I drank that morning. It was unsettling anyway.
One of the younger guides told me that there are a lot of ghost sightings here. They do offer a ghost tour at night which I decided not to do (scaredy-pants) but she said that in the house which we were sat in that she frequently sees an angry man walking around upstairs, a lady-in-grey who walks the verandah at the front of the house, and hears children playing out the back. She told me that it's nothing like the Scooby-Doo-Man-In-A-Blanket thing, but that the spooks look and feel like real people. Visitors have in the past complained to staff of guides dressed in period costume who have not spoken when asked questions. None of the staff there wear period costume... (Ooooooh!)
Another reason I got the willies here was for a more sad reason. In 1996 a man with an automatic rifle came into the museum complex and killed 35 people in cold blood. The incident was the largest mass-murder in Australia's history and it led to a big change in their gun laws. There is a memorial to it on the site of an old cafeteria where most of the killings took place. It's still so recent that present staff members can recall it.
Maybe because of this, the rain, or the fact my hostel was empty of other guests I was glad to leave.
The rest of my trip I spent visiting small towns with English names (Richmond, Swansea, Devonport) and the innumerable National Parks here. I came to TAS for the walking and was not disappointed with al the well managed day walks they had to offer. Some of the scenery was truly beautiful and to be out there with views like that and the fresh air was just what I needed. I also stayed off the booze for a couple of weeks, which is incredible in itself really. Damn I'm wholesome.
Out West is the Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Claire National Park which forms part of the wilderness that covers almost all of the West of the island. I'd like to come back and complete the Overland Track which can take up to 5 days. Wilderness is no understatement either. From the top of one of the (smaller) mountains I walked up I could see no settlements or towns between me and the horizon wherever I looked. It really is just you and the wombats.
Sarah Island is right out West and was Tasmania's first penal settlement. It was a rubbish site for one really as the harbour in which is sits has a tiny opening for ships to pass through which meant that a lot of shipping was lost to the reef. It is still exposed to the roaring forties, the westerly winds at this latitude, which can knock you over. The life here was hard but after they sorted out a decent windbreak and got the settlement going it was actually quite civilised, for a prison anyway.
An experienced shipwright came here as a civilian and started the ship yard which became so efficient it was knocking out more ships, good ships, than anywhere else in the colonies. There was a bakery, a dormitory made from brick, decent rations, and a trade taught to each inmate. When its time came to close most of them risked escape rather than be sent to Port Arthur. As an aside, one escape consisted of eight men who managed to get across the harbour to mainland and try to walk across the island to Hobart. As the men in the party got weaker and their rations ran out they resorted to cannibalism, eating the weak. Before long only two men were left. They did not trust each other and stayed awake for days. Eventually one of them fell asleep and was promptly killed an eaten by his "mate". When the hungry man was picked up by the fuzz he still had bits of his mate in his tucker-bag (or hand-bag, or leg-bag if you will, heh). He was probably tastier than some of the tins of soup I've been eating.
I did not get a sense of foreboding on Sarah Island. This might have been because it was a slightly happier prison, if I can call it that, or just that the weather was superb on the day. There was no wind at all, much to the disappointment of the guide, and the sun shone.
The rest of my trip took me East back towards Hobart. More walking and empty hostels. I knew that this was the off-season but these hostels were like the hotel in The Shining. I found that I was talking to myself a lot and on the one occasion that there was someone else there I did not see him. It was only when he coughed that I noticed his presence. Most embarrassing.
It was in a hotel's "Budget Accommodation" that I very nearly cracked. It had been a tiring drive up and down endless switchbacks over mountains, and it was late. The Portakabin that I had been assigned was cold and none too clean. I found a leech in one of the blankets and human hairs stuck to the sheets. Meh. I did not even know that they had leeches here. It felt my wrath anyway.
So it was back to Hobart. It's a tiny city with not a lot going on. I ran out of luck today as it's the Royal Hobart Show and the town has closed down completely. Just me and the automated Internet kiosk. I wanted to watch the pig-racing at the show and maybe sample the delightful chutneys, but I cannot be arsed frankly. I fly out of TAS tonight to Melbourne and I will be a little sad to leave.
Tasmania is a complex place. The people have an interesting history and it's certainly the most interesting state that I've visited; definitely the most distinct. I'm grateful to have sampled it and will return one day.