Ever dusted off an old pair of pants left hanging in the cupboard and found a forgotten $50 bill in one of the pockets? It’s not the money, necessarily, that offers the thrill. It’s the sheer surprise. Taking delight in the unexpected.
Now a neglected pair of pants might not have much relevance to Tasmania, the island state of Australia. But the serendipitous fifty, well, that’s another matter. That’s a surprise. And it’s a bit like Tassie.
Sydney is one of Australia’s most coveted destinations and the gateway for Australia’s international visitors, many of whom head north to Queensland and the Great Barrier Reef. Little Tassie rarely gets packaged into travel plans. In fact only about 3 per cent of all international visitors to Australia visit Tasmania. But for those who fly south during either winter, spring, summer or fall, Tasmania can offer a wardrobe’s worth of forgotten fifties.
Tassie (Aussies have a penchant for contractions and the island’s affectionate abbreviation is how most refer to the state) claims the southern most point of Australia. It might be Down Under’s downunder but it is just an hour’s flight from the Australian mainland. And just as some of the world’s famously alluring islands are tagged ‘unspoilt’ and ‘pristine’ so, for the most part, is Tassie.
Tasmania is about the size of West Virginia. But while America’s 35th state has a population near 2 million, Tassie has just 500,000 uncrowded souls.
There could be a simple explanation for the ostensible dearth of citizens. Around 20 per cent of Tassie is UNESCO World Heritage Area. A great swathe of wilderness stretches from its Great Western Tiers to the state’s southern most tip (the next landmass is Antarctica). There are few roads. Pines stand huddled in copses more than 1000 years old.
The state also comes with liberal quantities of national parks. There are vast tracts of temperate rainforests where footprints can be still considered something of a novelty. Much of it is home to indigenous fauna including wallabies, platypus and the unique Tasmanian devil, the world’s largest surviving carnivorous marsupial.
As an island Tasmania is afforded natural cachet. It is quarantined from many forms of pollution and from a number of pests and diseases that affect plants, and animals in other countries. Rich and blooming produce is fuelled by air streams travelling over cleansing waters stretching beyond Tasmania to South America, Antarctica and Africa. Between Tassie and these great continents there is little else. The air in northwest Tasmania is, reportedly, amongst the cleanest recorded in any populated place.
Tassie seems to have an altogether uncluttered and pure view of the world. On the state’s east coast a string of charming fishing villages and their intimate seaside restaurants offer up freshly harvested oysters, mussels and crayfish: you’d only get seafood fresher if you caught it yourself.
Japanese-born chef Tetsuya Wakuda is one of Australia’s most lauded chefs and though his eponymous restaurant is based in Sydney he is a champion of Tasmanian food. Of the state’s full-flavoured produce Wakuda offers: “Quality is one thing but 40 per cent of Tassie is either World Heritage Area or national park. Tassie is a special environment. There is clean air and water. Of course the produce is good. It’s natural logic.”
Tetsuya might be big on taste but memorable moments for the lips are not the only considerations for this chef’s plate. “Flavour of course is important, but food safety is a big issue now. People talk about organic, but what’s organic if the air is polluted? Tassie is beyond organic. It’s a wonderful place.”
Part of Tasmania’s intrigue is that fine food and wine are never far from the wilds. This, of course, is good news for gourmands - as Tasmania’s wilderness can be experienced without suffering any of the privations normally associated with plunges into expansive wilds.
Companies as boutique as the island’s cool-climate vineyards (pinots are a specialty) can take you into the remote, all the while serving up fine food and wine.
The Bay of Fires is a wilderness coastline on the edge of the Mt William National Park. The park is home to Forester kangaroos, echidnas and wombats. The Bay of Fires Lodge is the only building for miles. Most guests access this east coast escape by foot.
Most visitors arrive via a two-day, fully escorted walk along uncorrupted beaches. The attendant guides are trained by Daniel Alps, one of the state’s most celebrated chefs. Packet noodles much like other accoutrements of the 20th century – think TV and cell phones – have no place here. This is as gourmet as hiking can be.
The walk begins at Boulder Point with views north to the Bass Strait Islands, stepping stones remaining of the land bridge that once connected Tasmania to the Australian mainland. Secluded beaches are tucked between sand dunes and rocky headlands – the perfect place for Crusoe wanderings and a relaxed lunch.
Visitors to the Bay of Fires Lodge spend two nights here after the hiking component. The lodge has a maximum of ten visitors at a time. Somehow this ensures that not only the house, but also the guests, blend to the environment. Rainwater is collected and stored for use in the bathrooms and kitchens. A solar panel provides power for all lighting and the composting toilet ventilation.
Still, most people apart from Albert Arnold Gore might remember the lapping waters of the Tasman Sea and the wombats before the surreptitious highlights of sustainable accommodation.
But the good news for climate change advocates like Gore is that in Tassie there are, increasingly, more experiences like the Bay of Fires.
More information:
www.discovertasmania.com