Minuteman or Two-Minute Man

In the American War of Independence, a minuteman was a soldier who was prepared to fight the British at a minute's notice. It is also a term that gives some men a bad reputation as a lover! However, a two minute man is different.

I have been driving Sue and John's Magna (Maggie to her friends) while I've been around town. One of the tyres was low on air so I took her to a service station. Service station is a euphemism for a place where you serve yourself and pay for the privilege. . Being an independent woman, I didn't rely on the non-existent service. I positioned Maggie neatly near the air hose. Not sure how much air pressure was required, I connected the opposite tyre to see how much air was in that one. I held down the little silver lever - and watched the air pressure plummet to about 12. So it was now lower than the original. I have to say that whenever I though about inflating tyres, I was worried that I would do the opposite. Talk about self-fulfilling prophecies!

Now, I may be independent but I am not stupid. I know when I am beaten. I took myself into the service station to ask for help. The one attendant had a queue at the register and a number of others busily self-serving outside. I joined the queue, only to be told that there was no other worker there and I would have to wait till there was a lull. That didn't look like anything that was likely to happen soon, so I looked around.

I approached a genial looking man who was about to leave. 'I'm looking for a kind and helpful person with two minutes to spare,' I said as I accosted him. After his initial shock, he admitted to being kind and helpful but only having a minute and a half. That sounded good enough for me. It probably took him about two and a half minutes by the time he re-inflated both tyres. Lovely man! I now know that it is just a matter of pushing something on the air hose into something on the tyre and the air flows in. The little silver lever is for letting the air out if you have over-inflated it. If I can just remember that for next time ....


I was going to talk about my Bruny Island cruise but the photos can tell the story.

An Encounter with History

A day at Port Arthur gave an insight into the penal colony, set up to house repeat and violent criminals, I was intrigued by the contrasts. Port Arthur was the first place in the British Empire to separate the men from the boys (in a manner of speaking!). The boys, some as young as 9, were housed on an island in the bay. They were educated and taught a trade. Other convicts were also given the chance to learn something useful. Classes were available and church attendance was compulsory. On the other hand, floggings with the cat-o'-nine tails were common. Days, months and even years of sensory deprivation in total darkness and lack of any form of exercise, led to the formation of the lunatic asylum.

Once convicts were released, many returned to Port Arthur. Not only did they have nowhere to go and no way to generate income, they could not adjust to this strange life in a colony totally foreign to them. Most of them were from London and other urban areas and had no idea of self-sufficiency in such a basic culture. If they couldn't make it or they couldn't grow it, they didn't have it! For those who had relied on their wits, stealing and swindling, this new environment gave no opportunity for them to use these talents. For many, the solution was to return to the only place they knew. Facilities were gradually provided. This was probably the first step towards the welfare system that developed.

The barracks and services for inmates

Remains of the Hospital

My Two-Minute Man

So much to see and so much to do! Tasmania seems small to us mainlanders, and in terms of distance it is. A quick look at the map shows that anything or any place is no more than a few hours drive. However those maps don't often show the state of the roads - narrow, winding, potholed, populated by caravanners and motorhomers by day and wandering animals at night.Sometimes there is only one element (heaven!) but sometimes four or five elements can challenge the enjoyment of the road.

I have had two short stints away this week. Although I have been there before, I made a trip to Port Arthur. On site, I joined a tour group with an excellent guide. It is expected that they have the information to impart. He certainly had that - but there was an air of showmanship that made him into a real storyteller. I thoroughly enjoyed the walk and talk. A boat cruise is also included in the entry cost, also interesting. I always believe that time on the water enhances any experience.

On the way, I made a couple of detours. I walked across the tessellated pavement and read up on the unusual formation - and of course took photos which don't do it justice. I had a quick lunch at the hotel/cafe/restaurant across the road, gazing out at the sea. It was a lovely view and the perfect accompaniment to a seafood chowder. I also drove in to the blowhole - a wasted trip at low tide! But to balance that out, Tasman Arch provided an incredible blend of sight and sound. The colours and textures of the view (trees and rocks and amazing geographical formations and the swirling blue sea with white breakers over the rocks) complemented the wind in the trees and the crashing of the waves far below. It was a smorgasbord for the senses. Close by was the Devil's Kitchen. I think you would have to be a climber or trekker to get close enough to appreciate it. Even though lookouts were set up, viewing was sadly very limited.

This would look even better if I could turn the 90 degrees anti-clockwise

I didn't get to my two-minute man. Look for him in the next post

Just meandering around

I'm seeing a fair bit of the area in small bites. Sue and John are away crewing on a yacht that is part of a fleet of 45 which are circumnavigating Tasmania. They are only doing one leg of the trip and will be back next week. I have taken the opportunity to stay at their place a bit longer.

Today I emptied the back of the van and sorted stuff. I have a bag to take to Vinnies tomorrow, some things that I have packed a bit more neatly and the usual bag of odds and ends that I couldn't decide about today. Tomorrow I may be more decisive. I also have a box of those things that I have never used but will be needed the day after I throw them out. I  labelled the box and shoved it into a space for the next tidy up. In the meantime I am delaying going down to the van because of all the things I tossed up onto the bed to be stashed somewhere in the van.

I have made short forays out each day - to Richmond, Cygnet, Colebrook, Dodges Ferry, Brighton, different parts of Hobart, and several times in to Sorrell which is only about ten minutes away, Yesterday I met a Solo who lives in the area. We had lunch and will possibly get together again before the Solos Rally which starts next week.

The Matgate Train is a permanent market

Solitude at Carlton Beach

Fisher Folk at Lewisham Jetty

The Tessellated Pavement

Tasman Arch with tall cliffs and swirling water

Tasman Arch

Quite a few of the team are already onsite at Campbell Town. I don't go in till Sunday morning (26th) with most of the remaining volunteers, and the rally proper starts on Monday. I am working with Ron on the seminar team. I will introduce and thank presenters of the onsite workshops and seminars. I'm planning to run a few Cryptic Crossword sessions myself, if there are any takers. I also have a couple of debates and soap-box ideas up my sleeve if there are evenings which are a but slow. I don't have a list of all the activities but I know I want to attend Lis Brown's safety seminar for women. I have been before but it is a powerful presentation and well worth going to again. I also want to learn a bit about geo-caching and I need to get GeoWiki upgraded. If they weren't so early in the day, I would have liked to try tai chi and meditation - and maybe even walk. However, there are plenty of things happening in the evening which will keep me occupied.

What a buzz!

Happy hour with the Shearwaters

The Tassie Solo group, the Shearwaters, did a wonderful job sorting out camping for visiting solos. We are split over two venues, a council sports oval and the showground. I am at the oval -perfectly grassed and maintained, hot showers, a bus at the doorstep, and a prolonged happy hour each afternoon. This must have been a difficult site to organise as it is not normally open for camping. The Shearwaters even managed to secure a liquor licence and permission to have alcohol on the council land. The entertainment was probably the easiest part as not too many of us are shy and retiring.

Some of the Solos enjoying mid- summer in Hobart

The city is buzzing this weekend. The Wooden Boat Festival has filled all the nooks and crannies of the harbour, with the boats themselves, workshops, displays, and endless food suppliers. At the Salamanca Markets today, the crowds had to be seen to be believed. I think someone said that 200,000 people were expected.  On top of the usual crowd, the Oration of the Sea was in dock with nearly 5000 passengers and 2000 crew..

I bet the Ovation of the Seas was terrified by the police yacht

I decided that this was a good day to get the ferry to the Museum of Old and New Art, MONA. the ferry ride was smooth and there was a commentary, pointing out landmarks and giving a bit of history. I had almost forgotten about the Lake Illawarra hitting the Tasman bridge until the uneven supports were pointed out. Twelve people were killed including the occupants of four cars which were on the bridge at the time. This happened in 1975, less than 5 years after the Westgate bridge disaster which left at least 35 dead.

The trip over was good but I had forgotten about the 99 steps from the boat to the entry of the museum. I wasn't the only one who was slow. I bet I wasn't the only one either who muttered under their breath as young ones ran up - two steps at a time. We had to mutter under our breath because we didn't have the energy to talk out loud.

At first glance the displays looked sparse until I realised that each gallery entry opened on to a series of rooms with related themes. In over two hours I only managed to work through the lowest floor of the museum, As in any museum and gallery, the variety of the exhibits reinforced some understandings, stretched the imagination and challenged some of our expectations.

I loved this music afloat. It was like a cabaret scene as the woman played the organ and sang her heart out.

Read the Signs

A large cruise ship in the harbour, plenty of buses and taxis on a Saturday, shoulder to shoulder crowds at the markets! The signs all said, extra busy with one-day-only tourists.So why did I decide to take a scenic drive which is difficult on the best of days? Because I didn't read the signs. I just thought that, as it was a lovely clear days, the view from Mt Wellington would be worth the drive. On any other day it would have been a good decision.

The rocks of Mt Wellington invite climbers

Hobart from above

Fascinating rock clusters. I could fill a book

I will be interested to drive up again some time and see what it is like in normal traffic. My little excursion was so hair raising on the way up, that I stayed at the summit much longer than I intended, plucking up courage to drive down again. Buses, mini buses, taxis and the usual motorhomes and campervans snaked up and down the mountain. I gripped the steering wheel, dropped into first and second gear and crawled along, never knowing what might be bearing down on me from the next corner.

All the way uphill, I muttered at oncoming drivers , Move over. Can't you see I have a steep rugged cliff waiting to rip the side out of my car, and you just have guide posts. On the way down, my story changed, Move over. You just have a few rocks to worry about but I have a sheer hundred foot drop. The view was slightly clouded by the time I got to the top but worth the drive. I was interested in the rock formations. The whole area was like a moonscape, strewn with lichen covered boulders. It would be a good setting for an alien-invasion movie, with the winding road an ideal pursuit scene.

When I gaze up at the brooding mountain looming over the city, I can populate the peaks not only with natural features but also with extra-terrestrial beings.A fantastic world made even more so by my imagination!

Serenity

I haven't been ordered out of Sue and John's driveway yet but I have become a bit of a fixture. They have a lovely spot at Penna, over a bridge and two causeways from the city. The view from every window is spectacular. I've been told that if I walk up the hill to the top of the property, the vista is amazing. I would have done the walk of course but the hill is particularly steep and provides about 40 minutes of strenuous exercise. If I was unfortunate enough to be injured or die on the track, it would be very difficult and expensive to get me out. So by just gazing up, instead of walking up, I am potentially saving my hosts a lot of time and expense. Thoughtful and considerate, as ever! I have to share the space with dozens of wallabies, potoroos, blue tongue lizards, three little red hens, two well-nourished echidnas, and a chicken-eating quoll, all to the accompaniment of kookaburras, blue wren, magpies and other birds I am sure you would recognise.

Sue and John, fountain in background

Would she have stayed to drink if the fountain was working?

Echidna forages along the path

I had a lovely day roaming around Richmond last week. It is another of those little towns which promote themselves well. The area under and around the oldest bridge in Tasmania is invitingly landscaped, with the best photo spots marked. Old Hobart Town which is an authentic model of the original settlement, gives a visual history of the city - augmented by quirky figurines in a variety of serious occupations and tongue-in-cheek activities. Of course, coffee shops and gift stores abound.

Richmond bridge built by convicts

This part of the gaol remains as it was when in full use.

Hobart Town Model Village