Don't Cross that Line!

On Friday, we drove from Launceston back to Hobart, taking a different route on the western side of the island. The roads were very mountainous, curvy, windy and steep. The lanes on the Australian highways are very narrow, not much wider than the vehicle in some places, and usually there is little to no shoulder. Combine that with driving on the left hand side which seems strange, and it makes for some stressful driving. Usually you do things instinctively when you drive. But in a new experience, like driving on the left side of the road, you have to think carefully about everything you do - every turn you take, every time you put on your blinker, every time you change lanes - all of your mental energies have to go into your driving. Nothing is instinctive. That's why when Joe asked me to calculate the square root of the sum of pi and the cosine of a right triangle while I was driving, I refused. No just kidding. He didn't ask me to do that.

Our first stop of the day was at Cradle Mountain, Tasmania's iconic national park. The park is a beautiful alpine landscape of rugged peaks, glacial lakes, deep gorges, and ancient forests. We first stopped at the visitor center to inquire as to the best place to get a view of Cradle Mountain for taking pictures. We were offered the option of taking a shuttle bus to a few different locations, or merely stepping outside the visitor center and walking a few paces to where you could see the mountain. We opted for the latter. The guy helping us wasn't too thrilled that we turned down the shuttle. He had informed us that if we were to take the shuttle, we would have to pay a park entrance fee and a shuttle fee. The walk to view the mountain for picture taking was free. However, there was a line that you were not allowed to cross. If you crossed that line, you were in the "pay a fee" zone. The guy at the visitor center showed us on the map where the line was. I looked outside and wanted to clarify where we were allowed to go, and then asked him where the line was. He pointed to the map and said "right here". Okay. He's not getting it. He already showed me on the map; I wanted to know in real life - outside that door - where is the line that we were not allowed to cross without incurring a fee. He showed us and we were on our way.

Cradle Mountain

After taking pictures of the beautiful mountain scenery, and getting a bite to eat at the cafe (which was fortunately on the "free" side of the forbidden line), we started heading back toward Hobart. I had driven from Launceston to Cradle Mountain, so Joe jumped in the driver seat to head toward Hobart. Since I had driven into the park, I was aware that the park speed limit was 60 km/h. Since Joe had not driven, he did not realize that there was a speed limit. (Many Australian roads do not have speed limits.) So Joe is heading down the road doing 78 km/h. Yes, I know exactly how many km/h he was doing, because that's what the policeman told us when he pulled us over. Yes, Joe got stopped for speeding in Australia. The nice Tasmanian policeman, however, let Joe off with a warning. I always thought a warning was something like "Don't do that again; next time you'll get a ticket." But a warning is something they officially record so that you are now on record with the Tasmanian police as "having consented to the service of an Infringement Notice". They emailed Joe the "Intention to Serve Infringement Notice" and to let him know that he would be receiving the actual "Warning" soon. Wow, seems serious. I feel partially responsible since I failed to inform Joe of the speed limit when I turned over the keys. 

When leaving Cradle Mountain park, there was a couple of gas pumps, and since we would be venturing out into back roads with only small towns, and those towns few and far between, we thought it would be a good idea to fill up before heading out. We pulled up to the gas pumps and I went to the unmanned pay station. I tried to use my credit card, but it was declined. Fortunately we always travel with more than one card, so I tried a second card and it was declined. Ricky handed me his card and it was declined. Well, now we realized that the problem was the pay station and not our cards. But we stood and watched as one person after another walked up to the pay station, each one getting approved and filling up with gas. We had no idea what was going on. Did the credit card have to be Australian? There was a help number on the pay station but when Joe tried to call the number, it was out of order. So much for help. We decided to head down the road hoping that one of the small towns would be big enough for a gas station or two (with a pay station that would work for our American credit cards!). Fortunately we didn't have to worry about it, because we were able to ask a certain policeman that had pulled us over if we would be able to get gas in Queenstown. An upside to getting pulled over - your own personal policeman to query about gas availability.

We drove towards Queenstown and enjoyed more nice Tasmanian mountain scenery.

After getting gas in Queenstown, we walked around the historical train station and took some pictures of this nice, quaint little town. 

We continued driving, and the road immediately went up into the mountains. We had not gone very far when there was a nice overlook, with beautiful views of Queenstown down below. We pulled over and took a few pictures. So far, so good. The trouble began when we tried to get back into the car. That's when we realized that bees were swarming all around. When we opened the car door, lots of bees flew into the car. It was my turn to drive again and I was not about to drive on windy, steep, narrow mountain roads on the left hand side of the road while bees were swarming around my head. No thank you! So we tried to get the bees out of the car. At one point, we managed to get all of them out but one. When that stubborn one was near the door, we opened the door quickly, thinking he would fly right out, but instead he turned around and went deeper into the car and five of his friends followed him. It took quite a few shenanigans, but we finally managed to drive off bee-free. Whew! 

A few miles down the road, we spotted a large number of white boxes that were apparently bee colonies. We could see the bees swarming around the colonies as we drove past. So that's where those pesky bees came from. They apparently had escaped from the colonies.

After the bee fiasco, we drove, uneventfully back to Hobart, with more nice scenery along the way.

It was a long drive from Launceston. We traveled about 10 hours total (counting stops), and were very tired when we got in. Despite the trials of being careful not to cross the Cradle Mountain forbidden line, getting stopped for speeding, and getting attacked by bees, we did enjoy the beautiful countryside, once again, of Tasmania.