It’s time to pack up the car with camping gear and rediscover the sweet and only sometimes bitter Apple Isle
- Spirit of place
- Hitting the Tasman Highway
- Bay of Fires
- The road south
- Tasman Peninsula
- Hobart Town
- Freycinet Peninsula
Aussie mainlanders are migrating south for their holidays en masse now that the global pandemic has eased, crossing Bass Strait in their cars, SUVs, utes, vans and trucks – many with caravans in tow – to take a fresh bite into the sweet and only sometimes bitter Apple Isle.
It’s the perfect opportunity for us to test the second-generation 2023 Ford Everest in a new environment, namely a couple of weeks of solid driving down the east coast of Tasmania, and back up again, with camping gear piled high and our sights set on the state’s magnificent coastline.
There’s a separate Everest review accompanying this feature that takes a deep-dive into the Everest’s performance on tour – all the good and not-so-good bits – but our tight-budget trip turned up so many great places to visit, from world-famous vistas to more remote locations, that it demanded a separate touring feature.
So, organise your national parks pass and climb on board with us from the new Geelong ferry terminal for the Spirit of Tasmania and let’s head south…
Spirit of place
Okay, getting to the Tassie ferry is now more inconvenient for most Australians, owing to the shift in point of departure from Port Melbourne to Geelong.
What’s more, spaces are increasingly hard to find on the Spirit of Tasmania as record numbers of Australians have mapped out the same plan.
We saw that first-hand in booking and when talking to travellers, but anecdotal reports of ‘All Booked Out’ until 2024 aren’t quite correct. And it mainly concerns caravaners.
According to a TT-Line spokesperson (as at early March 2023), those with caravans, motorhomes and other designated high vehicles can make southbound voyages easily enough – with the exception of the mid-September to November peak – but will struggle to return to the mainland until November.
So you might be stuck in Tassie for a while, but that’s no bad thing…
We can also report that the brand-new Geelong terminal is highly efficient – nothing like at Devonport, which still feels stuck in last century – while TT-Line expects the first of two new larger ferries to arrive on those gut-wrenching, white-capped shallow waters of Bass Strait in 2024.
Hitting the Tasman Highway
Patience is a virtue, as was drummed into me as a child, which is sound advice for not only booking and travelling to Tasmania by boat, but when driving on the island.
That’s due to bad drivers (tourists in hire cars, mainly), bad roads and a profusion of wildlife, the population of which has clearly exploded with the lower traffic numbers when COVID was at its peak.
Wallaby, kangaroo, pademelon, echidna, rabbit, hare, devil, quoll, possum – they’re cute and prolific and found alive at night or mostly dead along the Tasman Highway (A3), a 410km stretch of busted bitumen running from Launceston to Hobart via the north-east and eastern coast.
Now, post-pandemic Tassie is back brimming with mainlanders and their typically brand-spanking-new vehicles and portable accommodation – be they ferried across or hired from major centres – and who generally fail to drive to the conditions demanded by the woeful A3.
There’s little understanding, or care, for signs like ‘road narrows’ and that’s especially relevant in a state where they appear to spend more money on hiking trails than road surfaces.
For passengers, though, the scenery either side the Tasman Highway is always arresting as we head across from Launceston to St Helens, making a beeline to Targa (we’re car enthusiasts, after all) but missing that first stage as an unexpected road closure – multiple landslips at the Sideling further north – sends us on a detour at Nunamara over to the Lilydale/Golconda Road (B81).
It’s beautiful country up to the panoramic Scottsdale this way, the B81 splitting lush paddocks with fat cows even in midsummer, winding through bush reserves and taking us into charming towns like Lilydale.
Back on the A3 at Scottsdale we’re on a mission to reach the southern section of the Bay of Fires on the east coast near St Helens, but wishing we had more time to set up camp on riverbanks in lovely historic towns (and mountain bike meccas) with great pubs and/or cafes like Branxholm on the Ringarooma River, Derby on the Cascade and Weldborough on the Weld.
Bay of Fires
Tasmanians and tourists alike flock to the Bay of Fires near St Helens, and for good reason.
The stunning earthy red lichen on the granite rocks hugging the coastline are a beacon and form a gorgeous vista behind and alongside the white beaches and turquoise water, all of which invite rock walking, sunbathing, swimming, snorkelling and surf fishing.
There’s a variety of campgrounds, offering sites right on the waterfront (these get taken fast) or nestled among the dunes, they’re all free, easy to access and you can stay there for at least a month before being asked to move on – to the next spot along the beach, if you’ve got no intention of leaving.
That was one local’s strategy for the past three years, where Swimcart Beach, Jeanneret and Cosy Corner had become home, a refuge from the global pandemic.
Car, caravan and an old trailer-cum-vegie-patch was enough for ‘Bill’, who like most of the Taswegians we met on tour was generous and a good source of information, providing handy tips for local drives, campsites, walking tracks and eateries.
One neighbour shared his catch from the surf with us one night, his fresh water when heading back into town the next morning and his firm word on the best fish and chips to be found down the east coast – from the van at the Triabunna wharf, which was soon proven correct.
At Swimcart and other campgrounds it’s BYO water and firewood (season permitting), there are pit toilets, no showers, and dogs are allowed, but they behaved brilliantly during our stay considering the possums tempting fate with them each night.
It’s the perfect place for beachside R&R, but a short drive north shows off the pristine coast, neighbouring farms, a refreshing lack of property development and a breeding ground for gulls next to the boat ramp at The Gardens.
The road south
No more talk about bad roads or bad drivers, it’s time to soak up the scenery as we head south on the dreaded A3 bound for the Tasman Peninsula, skipping the turnoff to Freycinet (we’re coming back up) and making a mental note to get across to Maria Island next time.
It’s more working class than world heritage Tassie, but no less appealing in my view – a mix of spectacular natural beauty, hard graft and industry. You see distant mountain peaks and sparkling blue bays, sprawling vineyards, sheep grazing in scrubby paddocks, fibro holiday houses lining sleepy towns, the occasional stone cottage ruin and remnants of convict-built coach roads.
Swansea, Triabunna, Orford, they’re all worth a call-in before taking the unsealed, undulating and ultimately fast Wielangta Road, cutting through forestry reserves and following the Sandspit River for a stretch until we find the Bream Creek Road (C336).
From there, it’s a case of following your instinct southward, catching glorious coastal views and heading for the deep-blue mountains in the distance.
Forestier Peninsula comes first, then the Tasman, by which time the immaculate Arthur Highway (A9) is heaving with tourist traffic again, bound for Port Arthur and its ghosts. Waving goodbye, we turn left at Joiners Link to head into the Tasman National Park and our campsite at Fortescue Bay.
Tasman Peninsula
You need to book in peak season to guarantee some ground space at Fortescue Bay, especially the big sites under towering gums at Mill Creek campground, where for $13 a night you get fresh water and share everything – and I mean everything – with wallabies and black currawongs.
The bay itself is a picture in fine weather, especially at sunset when the fishing from the small jetty and boat ramp is best and campers congregate to talk of catches, kayaking and, not least of all, bushwalking.
This spot marks the end of the lauded Three Capes Track – a challenging 48km, four-day hike across the peninsula – but for many others, like us, it’s the starting point and a base for day hikes through forest, scrub and heathland to breathtaking cliffs and stunning ocean views.
On the walk to Cape Hauy (3.5h ret) you’ll marvel at the giant dolerite rock columns plunging into the sea and wonder at the stonemasonry – and sheer expense – that’s gone into building such world-class walking tracks. Clearly, Tassie Parks and Wildlife have more clout than the State Roads Authority in the corridors of power back in Salamanca Place.
There are many other trails to be followed, by foot and car, on the Tasman Peninsula, where amid the incredible geology and dazzling waterscapes we spotted seals, dolphins, banjo sharks (southern fiddler rays), kelp forests, seabirds galore and a Tasmanian tiger – one of three snake species on the island, all of them venomous.
From our camp there’s the less-crowded walking route to Canoe Bay and Bivouac Bay (2.5h ret), while a drive back out to Port Arthur will take you around to the Cape Raoul trailhead for a longer walk (4.5h ret) that you won’t ever forget. For mine, it’s at the top of Tassie’s 60 Great Short Walks.
An hour or so sampling quality gin at McHenry Distillery on the side of Mt Arthur brings some fresh local touring tips from our host, so we head to the quiet Carnarvon Bay, Safety Cove and the crowded Remarkable Cave that, considering the natural wonders we’d already found, provides a different view of Tassie that’s hardly remarkable at all.
Hobart Town
It’s a calm and picturesque drive back up the Arthur Highway towards Hobart, going against the flow of tourist traffic and savouring the panoramic bay views.
Hug the shoreline where possible and you won’t regret taking the slightly longer route up to Sorell, whereupon you’re crossing Pitt Water/Orielton Lagoon and the River Derwent, cruising down into the heart of Hobart that’s more like a big old country town than our southernmost capital.
You’ll find your own way to see and do Hobart. It was impossible for us to miss the Australian Wooden Boat Festival down at Constitution Dock – a first-rate classic motor vehicle show for the salty types, their vessels handcrafted out of ancient Huon pine, their steam engines in full flight.
Defiantly, we snubbed Salamanca Market and instead found hidden delights in North Hobart and New Town: unpretentious ale houses, a broad range of eateries and one of the best damn bakeries on the planet (Jackman & McRoss).
The other must-see was MONA, the Museum of Old and New Art in the city’s north that courts controversy with exhibits designed to shock, offend and impress.
If you’re not into art, go anyway. For car enthusiasts, next to the wall lined with vulvae casts is the Fat Car (2006), a Porsche 911 Cabriolet that Erwin Wurm reconfigured into a bulging, bloated eyesore using polystyrene and fibreglass.
The big idea? It seems that Wurm turned a beautiful and desirable car into one that better matched his perception of a typical Porsche owner – a show-off, with too much money, too many possessions, too much of everything.
My personal favourite was Richard Wilson’s 20:50 (1987), which fills an atrium to waist height with recycled engine oil (hence the name). A walkway leads you out to a point where you’re surrounded by oil, the fumes are strong and the fear of falling in takes hold as the reflective surface creates an awesome, vertigo-inducing mirror image of the room.
Freycinet Peninsula
It’s time to wash off the grimy feeling that stuck with us from MONA and head back up the clogged and crumbling Tasman Highway, retracing part of our southerly route and frequently stopping for a quick photo shoot until reaching our final resting place on this east-coast tour, Freycinet National Park.
For as long as I can recall, Wineglass Bay has been continuously ranked as one of the top beaches in the world (at the time of writing, it’s at 44). That’s marketing hype designed to draw tourists to the place, but it still works, with hordes of them making the drive into Freycinet every day and taking the half-hour walk up to the lookout.
If you go early and keep walking down to the beach itself, you’ll find Wineglass, with its blindingly white sand and dangerous waters, to be gorgeous but no more so than countless other coastal spots we’ve found already.
It’s a no-drone zone, but helicopters, cruise boats and water taxis taint the experience.
Keep on the 11km circuit walk (4h) that takes you across the isthmus from Wineglass to Hazards Beach via the peaceful, reflective Hazards Lagoon, and you’ll find places of immense natural beauty to photograph, savour and swim without fear.
The tourist road leads us to Cape Tourville lighthouse and more panoramic ocean views, but we’d also brought advice from Tassie friends to turn off at unmarked tracks to find some unpolished and hidden gems such as Bluestone Bay and White Water Wall.
These were trails best suited for off-road vehicles only, which could explain the lack of signage, but it also felt as if the locals were keeping some of Freycinet’s secrets to themselves.
As it turned out, our campsite near the park entrance at Richardsons Beach was as good as anywhere else on the peninsula, with plenty of bush, space, privacy, amenity and a million-dollar view – again, not bad at $13 a night.
Sunsets, swimming, beachcombing, downing fresh oysters and marvelling at seabirds were highlights, with special thanks to two Australasian gannets that came around at dusk each night to plunge-dive from a great height into Coles Bay, more often than not coming up with a catch.
Reluctantly, after a few days we left those gannets behind, travelling west on the surprisingly smooth and terribly scenic Lake Leake Road (B34) that connects the Tasman and Midland highways, bound for Devonport, Geelong, Melbourne, Meeniyan – our mainland life that’s richer now with those memories of Tassie in the bank.
Keyword: Touring Tasmania’s east coast on a tight budget