The wifi in Bicheno was very poor, extremely hard to get a connection and then so weak you couldn’t do anything. So these are catch up posts from St Helens.

Awoke in Swansea to a fine sunny day and by departure time at 9.00am it was already very hot. A very flat ride today but into head wind all the way, just to keep us honest. We stopped at the tiny hamlet of Cranwood, about 5 houses, a fire station, a community building and a vineyard. We had stopped here three years ago to eat our lunch we had bought in Swansea. Talked to a philosophical guy who was cleaning up his devastated garden.  They had 200mm rain in 24 hours, average is 200mm in a month, and one district had 60mm in an hour.

The only hill today was Cherry Tree Hill which used to have a small scruffy car park with views out over Freycinet and the Hazards.  This car park is now closed and at the bottom of the hill at Devil’s Corner Vineyard they have built a very nice modern, architectural cafe, tasting room and look out tower. We stayed here quite a while for their coffee and muffins, the beautiful clean toilets and the futuristic tower. And to get out of the heat.

There were lots of farmers and road workers out today, mending fences, clearing culverts and picking up carcases etc. As well as the frogs the tiny black flies are having a feeding frenzy. All day we cycled through them. They attacked in squadrons, coming out of the sun, and got in our mouths, ears, up our noses and we’re plastered all over the front of our fluoro vests. Maybe the are attracted to yellow? They get under your glasses and crawl around your eye lids and eye brows. Brian says we need cycle helmets with a circle of hanging corks! We joked with a lady at the Freycinet Info Kiosk that we had already eaten our high protein lunch.

The accommodation at Bicheno is palatial and much too good for us. It is a large two bedroom fully equipped unit, 3km out of town located high on the side of a hill, looking out over a stunning beach and the ocean. In the afternoon we walked down the hill and had a refreshing swim. The surf was very boisterous but the water was crystal clear. The sand is that very fine white silica kind that sqeaks when you walk on it. We had this lovely little cove, that is part of a much larger bay, all to our selves.

In our fridge we have been left a dozen eggs and a large container of delicious looking bacon. Enough to feed the three of us for a week. There is also half a tub of cookies and cream ice cream. We have decided we can’t be bothered cycling or walking 3km back into town so it will be bacon and eggs for dinner.

Today was only 45kms and tomorrow is a rest day so a good opportunity for my sore ribs to heal a bit.

A good and a bad day.

Rained again in the night and when Barb went out at 7.30am to get some supplies from the local store she got caught in a shower. 7km to Triabunna and it rained a bit but not too bad. We went in to Triabunna to check out the Maria Island ferry which we will do when we come back this way in the rental car.

While there we came across a group of about a dozen archaeologists digging and sifting through some trenches and foundations. They were at two naval barracks from the nineteenth century doing a “dig”.  Half expected it to be Tony Robinson from the TV Time Team.  We spoke to a very pleasant and enthusiastic young lady who explained what they were doing and invited us into the barracks where they had dozens of trays and plastic bags with coins, buttons, pipe bowls, glass, crockery, etc. It was all being methodically catalogued and stored. They had been there two weeks already. This was an unexpected and nice start to the day.

From Triabunna we cycled inland past farms damaged by the floods. Fields that were just muddy bogs and sheep that were all brown and caked in mud. Barb saw one sheep that had died pinned against a fence by the torrent of water. Other paddocks were lakes and the side of the road was littered with broken trees, rocks and mud.

With the plentiful new lakes and the warm temperatures there was a frog breading frenzy. Not just the odd ribbit but a wall of sound. Continuous machine gun fire of croaks and it went on just about all day. They must have been very small frogs as we didn’t actually see any.

Now for the ouch bit.

About 20kms into today’s ride we came to some road works (the signs say Traffic Hazard here). The floods had washed a bit of the road away and left a gravely surface with pot holes. Brian, in front, mountain biker that he is, cycled straight through it. Barb didn’t see it till the last second and braked suddenly. Paul following too closely reacted too slowly and to avoid hitting Barb locked up front and rear brakes, skidded off the road and down a sloping rocky shoulder and came off. The result was bruises and scratches all down the left leg with a chunk of skin taken out below the knee, a sore elbow with skin missing on the fore arm, and bruised ribs on the left hand side at about arm pit level.

Two fortunate things: I didn’t break my collar bone (the most common cycling injury), and I smacked my head hard on the ground as I landed but the Giro helmet did its job otherwise I would have had a nasty injury to the side of my head. The helmet has a few indentations from stones.

Some workmen came over to see what had happened and stood around with hands in pockets grunting the minimum amount of sympathy they could get away with. Probably thinking “frigging stupid senile old git”. After regaining my composure we carried on about 10km to Mayfield Creek Park which is on the coast and has a beach. I was able to wash away the blood and get much of the road grit out of the wounds with sea water.

I could cycle okay and we carried on to Spikey Bridge. A 50m long and 10m wide mass rock bridge built by convicts over a tiny little stream. Next stop was Kate’s Berry Farm where we stopped for ice creams. Unfortunately it was on a very long uphill driveway. We had two flavours, a salted caramel and a bright lilac coloured lavender.

The shock and adrenalin were wearing off by now and I was feeling a bit sore as we entered Swansea. Fortunately the Swansea Motor Inn had a bath so while Barb and Brian went for a 90min walk around the headland I soaked my battered body in a lovely hot bath. Given the choice what would you do? Go for a hike or soak in the bath?

Unfortunately we had to spend our daily wine allowance on bandages and Savlon so just had to sit and watch Brian drink his beer. The bruises, scratches and grazes are okay but the bruised ribs are painful. I can cycle okay but it is hard getting on and off the bike and everytime I hit a bump, say getting on or off a bridge, my whole chest seizes up.

The weather cleared up nicely today and we had a hot sunny ride. Only saw the Chinaman once.

Cycling thought for the day: Stay calm and keep on peddling.

Yes a wet day from Richmond to Orford. Rained probably 90% of the way, drizzle and light but a few heavier showers. When the forecast says 90% rain I’m not sure if means 90% chance of rain or it will rain 90% of the time. And we were into a head wind all the way. It was warm though and the only time we got cold was when we stopped at the Buckland Roadhouse for a coffee and vanilla slice (custard square to kiwis).  The roadhouse was nice and warm but putting our wet jackets back on and cycling into the wind and rain we were cold until we warmed up on the next Hill.

And hills there were many today. We started out from Richmond flat farming country on a bypass before joining the A3 highway. We were able to turn off this and use an abandoned road for a few kilometres. This was great with zero traffic but a rough deteriorating surface. Back on the A3 we had some big climbs, the first to 260m at Charlie’s Opening, then to 336m on Post-me- Gall Hill, and finally up Break-me-neck Hill. From there it was fast downhill to Buckland which has a pub, a church, a roadhouse and 3 or 4 houses. The roadhouse was busy as it sold petrol and diesel and seemed to be the gathering place for the locals for Sunday brunch. The fare was pies and fries and surgery sweet treats. The coffee was large and hot and a saviour for three drowned rats. Or is that wallabies over here?

Through some rolling farm land, up one more little hill and then down a spectacular gorge with the Prosser River on our left and rugged rocky cliffs on our right. The road was narrow with no shoulder or pull offs but being Sunday traffic was light.

Finding our accommodation in Orford was at the time perplexing and infuriating but in hindsight a bit funny. Manfred’s notes are generally excellent and very detailed but the bit about entering Orford was written as if you were coming from the north and going south while we were doing the opposite. We couldn’t work this out until we realised all his landmarks were on our right instead of left and coming at us in reverse order. So reading it all backwards from the bottom of the page up it was obvious. Manfred lost a lot of brownie points while we did an extra 5kms and 15 minutes in the rain. That would have been a massive reduction in his tip!

Earlier in the day just out a Richmond there was a cycle race and we saw some of the pelaton , all of whom didn’t look any younger than us. We did meet a young man from China on a touring bike with panniers and we played leap frog with him all day as he is doing the same route as us. Chatted with him a few times and he loved the pies and fries.

Accommodation is in a nice cabin in a quiet suburban street about 200m from the beach. The cabins are quite large with full kitchen and can sleep 5. And we have two of them!

Orford had 24 hours of torrential rain two days ago and suffered a lot of flooding. The pub is closed and the school needs new carpets before school starts on Wednesday. There are only three dinner options in Orford: a stylish pub (closed due to flooding in bar), Scorchers wood fired pizza or a seafood takeaway. So it was pizzas and Tasmanian ice cream. The pizza was yummy but we all went home hungry and raided some of the breakfast provisions. We needed something more like the meal we had in Richmond, a good old fashioned farm roast with roast beef, brown gravy, potatoes,  peas, pumpkin and courgettes,  and lots of it.

Pat the proprietress was very kind and offered to clean and dry our sodden clothes in her washing machine and dryer. The panniers were fantastic and kept all our gear in them absolutely bone dry.

The cabins and Scorchers have no wifi so this is being posted a day late.

Our bikes are very sturdy but heavy steel framed hybrids. Triple chain ring with lots of low gears. They are about twice the weight of our road bikes and have fat chunky 38mm tyres compared to our slim 23mm road tyres. They are easy to ride and will do us well. We each have two new Ortlieb (the very best German) panniers on the back and a small pouch on the handle bars.

My bike needs a new cassette and chain as it slips a lot when in low gears. Manfred says these bikes will be replaced by wonderful new ones next year but he probably says that to all his clients every year.

Kevin and Owen will be interested that we took a different route from Hobart to Richmond to the one Pedaltours used in 2013. We crossed the Tasman Bridge, not the Bowen Bridge, and the Clarence Foreshore Cycleway around the harbour to Bellerive.  Then Cambridge Road through suburbia to Cambridge and the B31 through farmland to Richmond. This route bypassed Grasstree Hill and only had the bridge and one moderate hill to climb.

Tasman Bridge was quite an experience. 1.4km long and 60m high, about the size of Auckland Harbour Bridge.  There is a narrow  footpath separated from the traffic with a low rail and a higher rail on the “drop off the edge side”. Meeting oncoming cyclists and pedestrians was interesting as we did sideways contortions to squeeze past.

The ride around the harbour through forest was very pleasant and we stopped at the boat harbour in Bellerive for coffee to slow the journey down as it was such a short day – 30kms. Here we got a bit lost but Brian charmed two blue rinse ladies into showing the route on their iPhone. Manfred’s tour notes are detailed in the extreme and he says a few odd things.

eg:” halfway down you go ignore the right turn off of the Rose Bay esplanade what is signposted as the Foreshore cycle way”.

From Cambridge we did 17km on country roads past many vine yards and “pick your own fruit” farms. The road was quite busy but no buses and only one eighteen wheeler.

At Richmond it was farmers’ market day so quite a few people around but no coach tours so the tourist places were not crowded out. Yesterday there was a cruise ship in town in Hobart and I think they all went to MONA to get out of the rain!

Richmond is one of three Georgian Historic towns in Tasmania, dating from the early nineteenth century. It is noted for having the oldest bridge, prison and Catholic Church. We did a tour of the prison which operated from 1825 till 1851. The best thing about it is that today it is still exactly like it was in its heyday. It had up to 70 prisoners, mainly men but also women, and included bush rangers and captured aborigines. Tasmania was divided into ten police districts of which Richmond was one. The prison here is five years older than Port Arthur. Most of the public buildings and many private houses and structures were built by the convicts. They were assigned to settlers and used basically as slave labour.

We are staying in a lovely two bedroom, two storey apartment, called the Barracks. Part of it dates from 1830 and the new parts have been constructed using matching materials, proportions and detailing. Living, dining, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom downstairs and another bedroom and bathroom upstairs in the roof. Would like to stay here a few days.

Yesterday was a grey day all day and it looked like it could rain anytime . However despite the clouds often being black we escaped and had a nice dry warm ride in light winds. Long may it last.

Day 2 in Hobart was a very mixed day of exciting highs and frustrating lows. We awoke to the sound of rain beating down on the roof so heavy that some of it stayed in the gutters and downpipes and the rest cascaded off the roofs everywhere. We new it was forecast so weren’t taken by surprise.

Breakfast is provided in the room here. A totally processed, prepackaged meal courtesy of Kelloggs (cornflakes), Devondale (long lifeless milk), Rivianna (cubed fruit salad), four slices super white toast, Western Star (yellow grease that may contain dairy), Kraft (icky spreads). At 5am (still on NZ time) it all tasted dam fine.

We booked to go to MONA (Museum of Old and New Art) and used their fast catamaran from downturn for the half hour trip up the harbour. The ferry had two classes, the Posh Pit up front with leather couches, the best views and waiter service, and Standard (us) down the back with the engine noise. Actually the standard for everyone was very good and the refreshments were as good as any upmarket cafe. There was lots of art everywhere, a full size white cow, sheep seats, crazy graffitied walls, doors and toilets.

I noticed that my camera was not playing back and not recognising the memory card but otherwise seemed to be okay.

In Seattle last year Dale Chihuly’s Glass Museum and Garden and Frank Gehry’s EMP were mind blowing experiences and MONA is also. The museum has entry, Cafe, gift shop etc at ground level and three subterranean levels of galleries. From the pier there are 99 steps to climb through a sandstone gorge to the entry level. Then a spiral staircase down through a rock shaft to the bottom gallery (basement 3). There you get your headphones and “O”.

There are no labels on any walls or art, everything is on your little touch screen pad – the “O”. This is brilliant, a huge amount of information, maps, directions, tells you what you have missed, where you are and you can email your tour home. From here you wind your way back up through a maze of amazing spaces. Some high and cathedral like, some tiny and claustrophobic,  some nearly black and some strobe lit, some soft and some harsh and glarey.

Art all the time from 100BC Egyptian mummies in the Death Gallery to a crazy weird frankensteinian glass stomach thing that feeds, farts and poos.

All pretty puzzling and provoking and lots of fun.  A wonderful bar carved out of the rock. Think velvet, sandstone and making eyes at the chick with the black nail polish while you slurp your post modern Martini.

And all the time it was persisting down with rain so we didn’t get to see anything of the outside sculptures or garden. I took heaps of photos but was a bit worried about the camera and sure enough went to a camera shop on the way back and the photos do not exist. Some electronic problem with the camera not recognising my or any memory card, otherwise was acting okay.

After lots of fluffing around bought a little Nikon Coolpix S3700 which I will use for the rest of the time here. The Nikon has wifi and I downloaded  the app for my tablet but can’t get any photos transferred yet. So maybe no more photos – sob!

Brian has arrived and late in the afternoon met up with the precise and thrifty Manfred from Green Island Tours who set up the bikes, panniers,  gave us maps etc and we each got an interesting bottle of Langmeil Resurrection 2010 Mataro wine. To drown our sorrows with?

Starting this trip from the Airport motor Lodge in Miramar worked out quite well. A 4.45am check in for a 6.15 flight makes for a crazy middle of the night start from Raumati.  We were just a 5 minute walk from hotel room to the terminal.

Getting here all went without a hitch. The flight from Melbourne to Hobart is only 1 hour 15 minutes but the Airport Shuttle took far longer to do the 15km ride from the airport to our hotel. The bus was full and we were the last of about 15 drop offs. Still we got a site seeing tour of Central Hobart but alas no commentary.

Hobart is one of our favourite Australasian cities, small, compact and built around a harbour, like Wellington. It has a relaxed, cool, laid back vibe. Not so much of the in your face, crass, materialistic consumerism of bigger cities with their breathless headlines of sports stars/TV hosts/sex tapes/miracle babies/tragic childhoods/ dream weddings/drug busts etc, etc.

I think Hobart was fortunate to somehow miss the whole 1980/1990s. In Wellington and elsewhere in the 1980s almost every heritage building was demolished and replaced with brutalised concrete and reflective glass. Then in the 1990s the rest were replaced with plywood, polystyrene plaster crap.

Did anything good ever come out of the 80s – music, cinema, fashion, art? Oh wait – our three kids all came from the eighties!

Anyway Hobart has an abundance of wonderful old buildings that are now cherished and highly valued. A legacy of an endless supply of high quality sandstone and a supply of cheap convict labour.

Our hotel is in Battery Point, a heritage area similar to Thorndon or Panell, is 5 minutes walk downhill to the Salamanca Market and the waterfront. It is one of those places advertised as “character’ or “boutique”, a bit older, run down, creaky floors, you take your chances plumbing,  never look under the bed, no elevator, people you see in the corridor you don’t want to make eye contact with.

We love them, better then a bland Best Western any day. They are usually in interesting locations, have weird artwork and the colour schemes are done by someone’s mother in law.

The wifi only works in the bar downstairs. This is a trick every hotel should use to maximise profit out of selling drinks.

We had a meal in the bar last night. Quite a few single men hunched on their stools soulful staring into their beer. But there was an interesting mixed group of about a dozen, perched on their stools, all over sixty, having a great time, all chatting, laughing and squealing. They were having a trial to select a team for the Wednesday Quiz Night. One guy had an endless list of trivia questions.

No matter what the question the answer was always the same: “Hey I know that one, it’s what’s his name, as you know, jeez it’s just there, he was in that other thing, oh god it’s right on the tip of my tongue, hang on hang on it’ll come, yeah nah”.

Then some ridiculous guesses, some crude comments, a gulp of beer and a dive into the iPhone. About 10 minutes later someone would come up with the absolute correct answer but by then the show had moved on and nobody cared.

The other interesting thing was their teeth. If they all contributed there may have been enough for one full mouthful of teeth among them. They also had that look people get in their jaws and cheeks when too many teeth are removed and not replaced with implants or dentures. So I guess with shot memories and bad teeth it was too much pot and not enough dentistry – back in the 80s!