About 2 weeks ago at work the management of Soccer Crazy informed us Melbourne Victory, the local football team, would be playing a pre-season friendly a little way across the sea in Tasmania. They also mentioned that as we conduct all the merchandising for the team, one of us would have to travel to Launceston in the north of the island and set up a small stall for the supporters at the game.
With my extensive experience in the deliveries industry, working knowledge of Marquee erection and passion for all-expenses paid business trips, I was proved the ideal candidate. I thought this was an ideal opportunity to get back into the swing of travelling, as in less than a weeks time ill be leaving Melbourne temporarily and living out of a backpack once again. So late on Friday night I set sail for Tasmania to conduct a little overseas business. The Spirit of Tasmania, the Australian equivalent to the Dover to Calais ferry, set sail from Melbourne port at 9pm so after loading the van I drove down to the sea front and the mini-adventure began.
It turned out the Ferry was running slightly late by a mere 4 hours, so I had a little time to kill.
Luckily the gentleman next to me in the queue was in the mood for a chat and loved nothing better than boring the pants of anyone who would listen, so he sat explaining the intricacies of fly fishing for the duration. What felt like 1 month later, we boarded the boat and 30 minutes after that we set sail. I'd been booked into a lovely little twin cabin with a porthole view, but due to the fact it was night time, pitch black outside and we were in the middle of the Bass straight there was little of interest to see out of the window so I went to explore the ship. The Spirit of Tasmania is a big old boat, it has a cinema, a casino and 4 bars on board. I parked myself at one of these, had a few night caps and stumbled, due to stormy seas, back to bed.
The next morning I arrived in Tasmania and after leaving the boat I made the 1 hour journey across the island to Launceston.
By the time I eventually arrived I was ravenous so I found a little cafe and sat down for a bite to eat and a coffee. After a rather filling meal I asked the waitress what she suggested a tourist such as myself should do in Launceston and she recommended a visit to the local gorge. She advised me it would only take 1 hour and 45 minutes so I set off and hiked my way along the river.
Despite it being the middle of winter in Tasmania the weather was really quite lovely and the views along the river were about as picturesque as they come. At the halfway point of the walk I got to cross the river along a tiny little suspension bridge that literally swayed with every step I took. It was a little like something out of an Indiana Jones movie but instead of being constructed from frail rope and bolsa wood it was made from metal cables thicker than my arms, so I felt reasonably safe.
By the time I'd got back from the walk it was time to check into the hotel so I popped back to the cafe, thanked the waitress for her suggestion, picked up the van and drove across town to my splendidly lavish 5 star hotel, the Sebel.
Apparently the Tasmanian tourism industry is really struggling at the moment with the current economic situation and with it being winter, so the hotels are all offering fantastic rates. I'd have been happy with a youth hostel but when work deemed it necessary to book and pay for Tasmania's equivalent to Buckingham Palace, who was I to to argue. Ill admit, I felt a little out of place walking up to reception in my tracksuit bottoms having just parked a white transit van in the car park next to a selection of Mercedes and BMW's, but luckily I wasn't asked to use the service entrance and the concierge was rather pleasant. She advised me that although Soccer Crazy had paid for the room, the hotel was under strict instructions that any extras i.e. items from the mini bar or brown paper movies, had to be charged to my credit card.
It was at this point I discovered why the booking was so cheap, they ran their hotel like a cinema. Although it was reasonably cheap to get in, they quadrupled the prices of everything inside like they do with popcorn. The Sebel wanted $25 for Internet access, $40 to have sky sports in my room and even offered to fill my bath up with hot milk for $100. I quite clearly didn't have an entourage of hungry cats or hedgehogs with me, so quite why she offered me a bath full of warm milk is still something of a mystery. After a few hours of messing about with various gadgets and phoning reception to check which items were complimentary and which I had to pay for, I left the Sebel and went for a walk round town. It turned out that Launceston becomes vacant after dark, either that or the entire town was playing hide and seek with me. I couldn't find one pub, restaurant or even a cinema for entertainment so eventually I had to retire back to the hotel room, phone reception for the 2nd time to ensure that watching terrestrial TV wasn't going to cost me and sat watching Mighty Ducks 2 until I fell asleep.
Bang on 6am the next morning I received my wake up call from reception and immediately jumped in the shower to get ready for the days events. The weather had taken a turn for the worst overnight and it was now miserably cold and wet. None-the-less the Marquee wasn't going to erect itself so I parked the van in such a way that I could use the headlights as a giant torch and started piecing it all together.
Just as I was about to finish the security guard strolled over and offered a hand. I'm sure he'd been watching and waiting for me to finish as his timing was impeccable. Despite this, he was friendly enough and as there was nothing else to do until people started to arrive, he poured me a coffee and sat in the van to keep me company. About the same time as the sun decided to show, so did the fans and soon I was inundated with customers buying merchandise for the game. Luckily the weather picked up and by the time my manager Mark arrived from his flight things were looking up. The day flew by as we were kept relatively busy and soon it was time to pack up and leave. I dropped Mark of at the airport and then made the 100km drive back to Devonport where my next hotel was booked for that evening.
This hotel wasn't quite as plush as the Sebel but it was your classic motel looking establishment which brought it a certain amount of charm.
I felt a lot more at home here as it was full of single males in vans and I soon settled in. About 2 hours later I got a tap on the shoulder and turned round to find my Fly fishing mate from the queue standing behind me. He said "I thought that was you so I thought I'd come over and say Hi". And say "Hi" he did for the next 2 hours until I unintentionally fell asleep. I woke up about 30 minutes later and felt terribly rude but luckily matey was so busy being boring he hadn't noticed I'd been snoozing off for the past 30 minutes. I made an excuse about smelling petrol and popped outside to check if it was my van and never returned.
On the way home I remembered why me and boats don't really get along. The trip over was during the night so I managed to sleep for the majority of it, on the way back I was awake for the duration. I've never been a big fan of boats especially in rough seas, 10 hours I spent swaying from left to right, up and down. Never have I felt so sick for such an extended amount of time.
I'd worked my way through an entire packet of Travelets and was sucking on as many ice cubes as I could fit in my mouth but neither were aiding me a great deal, at one stage I actually thought I was going blind. Luckily one of the crew noticed I was suffering so she got me some super strength tranquillisers and they knocked me out for an hour or two. Eventually We arrived back in Melbourne and I got back on dry land like a shot. I promise myself that would be the last time I go on any boats for a while, I could really do with keeping my eyesight.
It turned out the Ferry was running slightly late by a mere 4 hours, so I had a little time to kill.
The next morning I arrived in Tasmania and after leaving the boat I made the 1 hour journey across the island to Launceston.
By the time I'd got back from the walk it was time to check into the hotel so I popped back to the cafe, thanked the waitress for her suggestion, picked up the van and drove across town to my splendidly lavish 5 star hotel, the Sebel.
Bang on 6am the next morning I received my wake up call from reception and immediately jumped in the shower to get ready for the days events. The weather had taken a turn for the worst overnight and it was now miserably cold and wet. None-the-less the Marquee wasn't going to erect itself so I parked the van in such a way that I could use the headlights as a giant torch and started piecing it all together.
This hotel wasn't quite as plush as the Sebel but it was your classic motel looking establishment which brought it a certain amount of charm.
On the way home I remembered why me and boats don't really get along. The trip over was during the night so I managed to sleep for the majority of it, on the way back I was awake for the duration. I've never been a big fan of boats especially in rough seas, 10 hours I spent swaying from left to right, up and down. Never have I felt so sick for such an extended amount of time.