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Is it a young Napoleon? Surely not. But if it is him, why does a flattering portrait of a suave Emperor of France have pride of place in my Launceston hotel? Odd. At first.

There are three rooms in Hargate, a refined guesthouse whose owners have borrowed from the playbook of the Milestone Hotel in London. Smartly servicing a guest’s obscure whim may be a holy grail for both, but Hargate has another specialty.

Inside this once noble Victorian home a French theme dominates. The upmarket guesthouse bulges with Louis 16th antiques: from the beds to the armoires and the paintings, almost everywhere you gaze is a piece shipped in from France.

The theme is not as inappropriate as you might first assume.

In his fiercely informative book The French Explorers and the Aboriginal Australians 1772-1839, Colin Dyer writes “French explorers in Australia in the early nineteenth century were neither few nor far between”.

Marion Dufresne arrived in Australia in 1772. Bruny d’Entrecasteaux (1792) Nicolas Baudin (1801) and Louis de Freycinet (1818) followed. Many of them made multiple visits to Tassie. There were according to Dyer’s focus, 10 French expeditions over 60-70 years.

The explorers forays into Tasmania are prominent in Dyers’ work and it’s easy to ponder that Tassie might just as readily have become an outpost of Napoleon’s titanic rule.

Matthew Flinders in concert with George Bass is credited with many firsts of the European exploration of Australia. The French are often barely a footnote. Yet Tasmania has a somewhat dazzling and prolific connection to France and the elaborate furnishings of the hotel can be a peek to it.

My room in Hargate, despite the direction Napoleon’s stare leads me, is named after Nicholas Baudin. In 1802 at the height of Napoleon’s bloody rule Baudin, captain of Le Géographe, was mapping parts of the east coast of Australia with such cartographic skill modern maps have reportedly changed little from the diligent captain’s knackering work.

When Marione Dufresne set foot in Tasmania Dyer writes ‘this was no doubt the first time the (the Aborigines) inhabitants had met people from another world’. In January 1788 Captain Arthur Phillip arrived with the first fleet in Botany Bay. Just six days later Dyer writes ‘he was surprised by the appearance of two strange sail in the offing’. They were French ships. Baudin’s expedition happened across Matthew Flinders. It’s not too difficult to assume the content of our English dominated history books may have been decided on the direction of the wind.

Maria Island is off the mid-east coast of the Tasmanian ‘mainland’. It has white sand beaches where you can go ‘bush’ walking without boots. Most often the only other footprints will belong to pied oystercatchers and wallabies. Dolphins occasionally herd salmon in the shallows of Riedlé Bay.

Abel Tasman dead-reckoned his way by Maria Island in 1642 yet despite the feats of the Dutchman it was the French who may have put the first boot print on Maria. Baudin’s expedition gave name to many of the island’s landmarks, including the bay (see above) with the dolphin connection.

The Tyreddeme Aboriginals were the island’s original inhabitants. According to The Baudin Expedition by N.J.B Plomley, the intriguing Baudin logged a charming encounter with the locals.

Baudin urged one of the young men of his crew to show the Aborigines that white men were, umm, ‘equipped’ just as the Aboriginal men. Baudin ‘coaxed’ the young man into dropping his strides; ‘As soon as they [the Aborigines] perceived he was just like them they all showed their admiration with such loud cries of astonishment and joy that we [the French] were made dizzy’.

Recherche Bay is, certainly among Tasmanians, an evocative place. For many Tasmanians it is much like Cradle Mountain and a ready synonym for wilderness. The bay is named after one of two ships in the expedition led by d’Entrecasteaux that stopped at Recherche Bay in 1792 and in 1793.

The French as well as English captain’s Bligh and Cook spent much time in the south-east of Tassie. But the region can, in nomenclature at least, seem far more French than English. Captain Huon de Kermandec (often spelt Kermandie) was second in command of the expedition lead by d’Entrecasteaux. Kermandec was captain of the L’Esperance, d’Entrecasteaux the La Recherche.

Captain K spent only about five weeks in Van Diemen’s Land but must have been one hell of a nice bloke. His eponym is all over the place. The Huon Valley is just south of Hobart. The Huon River flows right by the town of Huonville. Huon pines, one of the slowest growing and longest living plants in the world, grow on the riverbanks.

The modern narrative of Tasmania’s Huon Valley is beautifully simple. It spans rivers, orchards, forests, towns sans gentrification, friendly locals and, to a lesser extent, homes where smoke from chimneys drifts without purpose when the yachts on the nearby bays are becalmed.

Water views are a constant from the Huon and on those days when sails are as limp as the English cricket team, you will occasionally be able to track a skipper’s agitation while sipping coffee somewhere. A somewhat less coveted feature than the water is the great piles of firewood that fuel the insouciant smoke. Within wheel barrowing distance of homes as well as pubs, cafes and B&Bs are truly impressive quantities of split firewood, most of it stacked neater than a newsreader’s suit.

These harbingers of warmth aren’t regularly pointed out by the locals when visitors stop to ask for advice on things to do. But when you nestle up to a fire in a pub or restaurant after you’ve been out watching either whales, dolphins, seals or albatross (or skippers) somewhere by the D’Entrecasteaux Channel, or have been walking through caves or forests or even tasting wines in vineyards, the knowledge that just out back is a pile of wood that promises more warmth than Bambi stirs a surprising amount of satisfaction.

It’s quite a neat trick really. Somehow it compels you to order another glass of the local pinot noir after dinner and, on occasions, at lunch. Once when travelling around Tassie I met a pair of Queensland women who giggled that they couldn’t drive past a café or pub if there was smoke coming out of the chimney. But for all that fire-side repartee Tassie isn’t as cold as you might imagine. It’s about the same distance from the equator as Rome, or Perpignan even.

The French theme has been taken up by other hotels in the state including the D’Entrecasteaux, a hotel at Howden, just south of Hobart. The 10 suites and their balconies, the foyer with a suitably grand staircase and the rendered building may have all been pilfered from Bordeaux. All the furniture is either custom made or antique and the Tower Suite includes a claw-foot bath. There is also an indoor heated pool.

The Red Feather Inn is at Hadspen, just north of Launceston. This former inn is a handsome Georgian and retains much of its original architectural charm but inside it is trimmed with French Provincial furniture. The two influences work a treat together.

Glencoe Rural Retreat is about 30 minutes’ drive west of Hadspen. Owners Remi and Ginette Bancal are originally from France. Remi’s CV traffics his time at Paris’ Ritz Hotel and the legendary Mietta’s in Melbourne. He and Ginette moved to Tasmania in 1999 and established (what is now) Peppers Calstock in Deloraine before opening their four-room B&B in a converted farmhouse in 2006.

Glencoe is furnished with Gallic elegance. But the Bancals, slow food advocates, have come a long way from French cafés and coffees you need to bill to your credit card. Eating at Glencoe is a bargain. Three courses for 55 bucks. The food is sourced from locals and the vegetable garden out the back. The intimate café has a menu which offers lunches including salad with cold smoked salmon but come evening Remi opts for centuries’ old practice. You eat what the chef cooks.

In a small place like Glencoe the ostensible simplicity works a treat. Remi buys the best local ingredients and cooks them into dishes he thinks will do the strap of lamb or rump of goat justice.
An extensive wine list, with plenty of local vinos, runs with the food. But if you feel like you’ve saved a fortune on dinner you could splurge on something from the Bancal cellar. There’s a 1996 Chateau Cantemerle Haut Médoc ($168).

There is a farmhouse-meets-café-chic style here. The Bentwood chairs meld with the Bancals’ languid-style, though a good part of their je ne sais quoi seems to be a generous side order of passion.

Remi bakes brioche each morning. The effort isn’t attributable to any marketing genius, it’s just part of the way the Bancals see the world: baking brioche is the way it should be. You can have breakfast by the open fire in winter or, if it’s warm on the outside, in the garden at tables under an elm tree that has aged with the grace of Governor General Quentin Bryce.

The Bancals have started a line of gourmet foods that includes jams, chicken liver pate, pork and turkey rillettes, terrines, and pistachio sausages similar to those from Lyons.

Not surprisingly there is a French theme for the food at Hargate. Breakfast is the only meal served at the hotel but it matters not. It is five courses. A table is set with such silver service finery that Marie Antoinette, given her penchant for excess, would find it suitable.

Breakfast begins with local Jansz champagne. Tamar Valley yoghurt, croissants with country jams and a quiche Lorraine with black forest bacon follow. The pastries come from Launceston’s acclaimed French patisserie Tant Pour Tant. In an ode to the lavish surrounds I try to remain dignified while hoovering up the crumbs.

A word of warning. There is a selection of coffees to choose from but rather sip your way through them, take it easy. Breakfast has an unannounced course. If you ever finish eating, steal back up the stairs and, for course six, slip back to bed for a few hours – or a month if you can stump up the tariff (which includes the breakfast and extras like bathrobes soft as a gosling and the use of French perfume).

In Tasmania, never have the English and the French got on so well.

More Information:

Hargate House is near the centre of Launceston. Rooms from $290 per night
www.hargate.com.au

The Red Feather Inn is approximately 15 minutes’ drive north-west of Launceston. There are three room s and two suites. Rooms from $295 per night (minimum two nights). The tariff includes a food platter and bottle of wine on arrival and breakfast.
www.redfeatherinn.com.au

Glencoe is at Barrington, near Sheffield. Rooms from $165 per night. Evening meals at Glencoe must be booked in advance.
www.glencoeruralretreat.com.au

D’Entrecasteaux, the French hotel, is at Howden. Rooms from $330
www.dentrecasteaux.com.au

www.discovertasmania.com is a comprehensive guide to the island

The information was correct when published in 2009. Prices and information may have changed.