It had been a crappy week when it came to weather.
Cold winds, lots of rain, clouds covering the skies without the chance of any blue in the near future. Vicky and I had made due – kayaking and enjoying our time in Corinna nonetheless. But as we pulled out of Rosebery and drive the hundred or so kilometres to Cradle Mountain, we prayed for something better.
And oh my God it worked!
By the time we drove along the dusty dirt road and parked next to the visitor centre, the sun was ablaze in the sky and there wasn’t as cloud for miles! What a perfect day!
What a perfect day to hike around Cradle Mountain.
I’m just going to start by saying that seven days is not enough time to even scratch the surface of Tasmania.
This little island state just off the coast of Australia, this hardly visited, rarely talked about little island is hustling and bustling with things to do and beautiful places to see. And it’s really not as little as everyone thinks it is, and even for the size of Tassie there’s so much to see and do it would easily take you a couple of months to really experience the full island.
But I only had seven days.
As I write this post, rain is pouring down upon the roof of the caravan stay in, banging off of the tin roof in rapid fire. A mere half hour ago the sun was shining and it was the warmest I had ever felt it in my short stay so far in Tassie, I had even changed into shorts.
Welcome to Tasmania!
“Just one more break.” I plead, sitting down on the hard ground, my backpack thumping behind me. My legs are screaming at me in protest as I stretch them out over the dirt, and my breathing is laboured but slowly leveling out. It feels like I’ve been running for days. In reality I only just finished the first staircase of many, many more to get back up to the top of the mountains we just clambered down.
I was out of water, stupid me I thought one bottle would be enough for a small hike around a valley. My bag was heavy with the weight of my Nikon in it, and more than once I debated throwing the entire thing into the stream beside us. My friend, an ahsmatic, seemed to be doing better than I was with this torturous walk. Pathetic.
With that thought in my head, I oh so gracefully stumble back onto my feet, almost falling over in the process, and continue my journey up the stairways of hell. One foot after another, one step at a time.