Travelling to Tasmania and not visiting Cradle Mountain is a bit like eating hot chips without tomato sauce i.e It shouldn't be done. Part of Tasmania's Wilderness World Heritage area, both entrances to the national park, Lake St Clair from the south and Cradle Valley in the north, are spectacular.


But exactly half way into your walk, when we were at the point furthest from any possible shelter or protection... it starts to rain. And then hail. Yep, big chunks of ice, falling from nowhere - the sun had done a runner just like Christopher Skase, all those years ago. If it wasn't for our brand new, yet-to-be worn Kathmandu rain jackets (that cost a bomb and make us look like total amateur bush walker losers - let's just say it took the hail storm for Luke and I to both get over ourselves and actually embrace the hiking apparel), we might be still shivering on the track somewhere right now, with tourists taking our photos, thinking we were some kind of drowned out marsupial rodents.


But we survived and found solace from the rain and freezing cold temperatures in the nearby Wilderness Lodge and Spa, which is a private lodge where the rich city folk stay when they visit the bush and conveniently mix their walks with a couple of facials, a mud body wrap and some time in the spa, sipping on champagne. Luke and I went for a coffee but when the staff mistook us for paying lodge guests and served our coffees in 'the lounge' in front of a log fire and with free pool table, we thought we better make the most of their hospitality before we went back to our freezing camping spot. And freeze we did. Kombi vans really should come with their own heating system - wearing a beanie to bed is a little too bogan for my liking.


No comments:
Post a Comment