Day 9 (July 21, 2016): Sheep,convicts and great heights

I am definitely going to need a solid week of sleep after this vacation to make up for the rest the South Pacific has NOT given me. Oy! Another rise before the birds this morning:  I was out the door at 6am to do my Launceston morning croissant and coffee run. Forget Paris, this place has croissants that could teach the French a thing or two. The urgency this morning for such an early rise was to permit an early departure time to make the trip south to Hobart and allow sufficient time to see the capital.  By 7:30am we had checked out, but the front desk clerk was so genuinely conversive about everything from logging to travel that we lingered another quarter hour in chit chat.

Our historic hotel in Launceston

Launceston and area was blanketed in a very thick fog. It made driving tricky but also made for some neat picture-taking effects with the passing sheep pastures. 

Early morning fog in northern Tas

Tas gives New Zealand a run for its money in terms of who has more sheep! We made a game of saying, "Sheeps!" every time we passed a sheep field, and I'm sure the word was uttered at least 100 times.

"Sheeps!"

And more sheeps!
 

We stopped in two small villages on the way to Hobart. In the first, Campbell Town, the sidewalk on the main street was lined with bricks showing the names of 19th century prisoners and their sentences. (Remember that Tasmania was initially a penal colony, so that history plays a dominant role in the cultural story to be told here.)  The unforgiving and brutal nature of the judicial system back then is reflected in these bricks. Forgive me for inserting so many below, but I know you will find them fascinating. 

Typical crimes under the brutal judicial system of the day. 

Creative use for a tree trunk in Campbell Town

The second village, Ross, contained the third oldest bridge in Australia, as well as the remains of one of a handful of "women's factories" established in the 18th century. Most of the crimes were petty, but the resulting prison life was nothing short of inhumane. It is a story of sad suffering, infants separated from prisoner mothers, infant deaths, etc. We are glad to have gotten the chance to learn about this important chapter in Tasmanian history. 

Bridge in Ross is third oldest in Australia. 

St John's Anglican Church in Ross

Remains of one of the "Women's Factories" in the village of Ross. 

We rolled into Hobart at noon and immediately checked into our hotel, right on the waterfront.  By 1pm, we were out in the perfect sunny afternoon taking in the key sights along the waterfront and throughout the Central Business District. The photos relay those sights. A stop for Aussie cod and chips gave us the power boost we needed to push on!

Grand Chancellor Hobart Hotel on the waterfront was excellent. 

Hobart waterfront with Mount Wellington in background

Similar to Copenhagen's "Little Mermaid", Hobart has opted to immortalize penguins in bronze. 

A take-off on Marilyn Monroe's famous "windblown skirt" photo, but using a rabbit and a dog

Salamanca Place is an historic market complex.

Salamanca Place

Not sure what this tree in Battery Park is called, but it should be called a 'chandelier tree'!

St. David's Cathedral

Funky architecture at Hobart's university. 

By 4pm, we decided we had just enough steam and daylight left (sunset is at 5pm this time of year) to either visit the snazzy $75million art gallery called "MONA" or to drive the 22km from downtown to the summit of Mount Wellington, which watches over Hobart at a height of 1270 metres. We decided on the latter, and started the white-knuckle drive up the mountain, wrought with switchbacks. The temperature plummeted to less than zero (with windchill) as we arrived at the summit. The views of the area were quite amazing, however. 

Atop Mount Wellington: Just to prove there IS indeed snow in Australia!!

Enjoying the frigid views of Hobart from the summit of Mount Wellington

The pinnacle at 1270 metres

Upon returning to the hotel, I collapsed on the bed and went sound to sleep for an hour.  Although I have no recollection of it, Pam says I woke with a start and shouted, "Momma!"  I guess exhaustion makes us do weird things sometimes!  We found an Italian restaurant for dinner and the server was so kind and genuine -- typical of all the encounters with Tasmanians from the moment we arrived. 

And so endeth our two days on this stunning, unique island in the extreme south of Australia.