Unlike its near downstream neighbour, Franklin, Huonville is not a town of historical significance. In fact, it was not until the 1930's, when road transport into and out of the Huon Valley put and end to the predominance of river traffic, that Huonville overtook Franklin as the pre-eminent town in the valley. And I have to say this is reflected in the town's architecture and general appearance, which compared to many Tasmanian towns is unremarkable to say the least.
With a population of less than 2,000, Huonville hosts the most southern local government area in Australia and is the gateway to the magnificent local scenery in the valley itself and further south (as we have already seen).
The Huon River was first sighted by our old friend Bruni D'Entrecasteaux as he roamed around southern Van Diemen's Land and he named it in honour of his second in command, Captain Huon de Kermadec. Huonville itself almost wasn't......the nearby hamlet of Ranelagh was originally laid out to be a town called Victoria.
But the bridge over the river in what is now Huonville proved an irresistible draw card and the town inevitably grew up around it, given some real impetus, I am sure, by the fact that the local pubs were also located there to conveniently allow travellers to slake their thirsts. So much for official planning!
Despite the fact that the once enormous apple growing industry in this area has declined steadily over the years since the early 1950's, the Huon Valley and surrounding areas are still recognised as one of the State's primary apple producing regions. Today, however, cherry orchards are on the rise, as is salmon farming (as we have also seen). Forestry and a wood based industrial park also play an important role in the local economy.
We began our town tour (which was very much scenery focused) by driving up a steep road on the southern side of the river. From here we hoped to be able to gain an overview of the town nestled in the valley below.
En route, I was able to indulge my fondness for gardens and flowers with a photo or two of this lovely little roadside rockery, one of several which lined the steep road edges. Given that these could not be seen from the homes on the down the slope opposite, I could not help wondering what sort of civic pride drove this endeavour.
The view from the top did not disappoint
as we looked out over the various sections of Huonville and the wide waterway on which it lies,
views which I have tried to bring together in this panorama.
With a population of less than 2,000, Huonville hosts the most southern local government area in Australia and is the gateway to the magnificent local scenery in the valley itself and further south (as we have already seen).
The Huon River was first sighted by our old friend Bruni D'Entrecasteaux as he roamed around southern Van Diemen's Land and he named it in honour of his second in command, Captain Huon de Kermadec. Huonville itself almost wasn't......the nearby hamlet of Ranelagh was originally laid out to be a town called Victoria.
But the bridge over the river in what is now Huonville proved an irresistible draw card and the town inevitably grew up around it, given some real impetus, I am sure, by the fact that the local pubs were also located there to conveniently allow travellers to slake their thirsts. So much for official planning!
Despite the fact that the once enormous apple growing industry in this area has declined steadily over the years since the early 1950's, the Huon Valley and surrounding areas are still recognised as one of the State's primary apple producing regions. Today, however, cherry orchards are on the rise, as is salmon farming (as we have also seen). Forestry and a wood based industrial park also play an important role in the local economy.
We began our town tour (which was very much scenery focused) by driving up a steep road on the southern side of the river. From here we hoped to be able to gain an overview of the town nestled in the valley below.
En route, I was able to indulge my fondness for gardens and flowers with a photo or two of this lovely little roadside rockery, one of several which lined the steep road edges. Given that these could not be seen from the homes on the down the slope opposite, I could not help wondering what sort of civic pride drove this endeavour.
The view from the top did not disappoint
as we looked out over the various sections of Huonville and the wide waterway on which it lies,
views which I have tried to bring together in this panorama.
With this little jaunt successfully completed, we descended the hill to the town end of the river bridge which we used as the starting point for a riparian ramble.
Upstream, the narrow riverside park bore the odd name of 'Ladysmith Park'. The wooden statue (mid shot) provided some of the answer.
Well, more to the point,
the plaque at its base did. I have to comment that in all our travels around Oz over the past many years, we have come across myriads of memorials, but this was a first. Significant as it may have been historically, and certainly for those involved, the siege of Ladysmith does not loom large in the minds of many. Clearly it did for the Short family!
And this was not the only wooden statue in this short (?) park.
This one did seem a little more in keeping with the history of the area.
We did toddle on down to the end of the lawns here, trying not to disturb the two enjoying a picnic afternoon tea at one of the several tables placed along the river
From here we had a fine view back to the bridge which was so central to the development of this town,
and of a couple of the homes perched high on the hill opposite.
Then it was back to the bridge itself, a perfect platform from which to take in the views downstream of the industrial sheds on the southern bank
and the linear park along the other side,
where what we assumed (rightly) to be a floating restaurant attracted our attention (and was later to disappoint significantly).
But this discovery was not immediate. First we had to make our way along the riverside park on the downstream side of the bridge,
where tables and benches scattered here and there provided for those wishing to have a spell or spread their picnic hamper.
It was here, too, that we came across a series of information boards, one of which presented a picture of the original bridge
and another the story of this first wooden river crossing.
Its replacement,
which as you can see did not span the Huon until almost a century later,
was not built without some difficulty, and some interesting moments! As I have commented before, it is such a shame that idiots have to leave their unwelcome marks on boards such as these.
We were not entirely surprised, however, to find similar vandalism on a much grander scale inflicted on the board dedicated to the story of the Benders and Huon Aquaculture. The spat between this company and others in the industry about the activities in Macquarie Harbour has created some real divisions, and, strangely enough, a large Tassal factory is just down the road!
This section of the park also housed information boards detailing the history of the local apple industry. It was noted that this "cool, wet valley with sunny, north-facing slopes, abundant fresh water and deep, well-drained alluvial soil on the river flats" provided ideal conditions for apple trees.
The tall timber which covered the hillsides when farmers first arrived in the Huon Valley was soon cleared to make way for the orchards. This same resource also provided employment for timber cutters and millers, and interestingly the two industries complemented each other in that much of the felled timber was split and cut into millions of 'shooks' (small pieces of wood used for case and barrel making) which were used to manufacture the much need apple cases.
These boxes were very brightly branded, as these two examples show,
and made sure that anyone who cared to look at them knew exactly where these crisp fruits were grown.
The forestry industry continues to thrive beyond the cleared orchard lands and the Huon Valley fruit trees still supply over 70% of Australia's export apples. But today, berries, cherries, mushrooms, cut flowers, wine and fish and oyster farming are all primary industries of increasing local economic significance.
As a quick aside, one of the parks we had been strongly advised to avoid was in nearby Cygnet, where hoards of overseas back-packing berry and fruit pickers (who are admittedly critical to the success of these industries) have been know to make life something of a noisy misery for us of the grey nomads class (nothing we saw in a later visit to that town gave us reason to discredit this view!).
After taking in all this information we were ready for a bite of lunch and perhaps a refreshing ale or white wine. The bright blue Boat House Cafe we had spied from the bridge seemed just the ticket.......
......until this sign forced the adoption of Plan 'B' (which was, at this immediate juncture, 'walk on'!)
As we made our way back to the Huon Highway, we passed a front fence sign which by now we knew was typically Tasmanian. We had never before come across so many wood fires and such huge domestic wood piles (all of which was completely understandable given the abundance of timber in not only this area but throughout the State...and the climate!).
But then we did get a surprise.
We've not often come across a drunk on a bench, complete with empty flagon and the ever faithful dog, displayed as a garden ornament! I was sorely tempted to knock on the front door, but the demands on our time and a virtual tug on my left ear, accompanied by a (sternly) muttered "Don't be so silly", both worked against that idea. Probably a wise move!
So still disappointed to some extent by the bolted doors of the Boat House Cafe, we repaired back to 'bridge corner' where the rather stern looking Grand Hotel on one side of the highway
and the much more attractive gardens of the Huon Manor Restaurant on the other, both exerted some passing attraction, before we took the decision
to hightail it back down the main street and back to camp where the menu would place no strain on our financial coffers.
Consistent with my earlier observation about the style of the architecture in this town, I've been unusually reticent with the shutter in the Huonville CBD.
The solid red brick buildings which were the seat of local government and a branch of the CBA respectively
and the leafy courtyard between them did arouse fleeting interest,
as did the view south from this roundabout but little else grabbed me as we wandered about the CBD.
There was the odd splash of commercial colour to brighten the streetscape but this could be any town anywhere as far as its CBD goes.
This is not to say it is not all here, including a large and well appointed shopping centre at the northern end of the main commercial district, but unremarkable remained the overwhelming feeling, exacerbated I suspect by the charm of nearby towns such as Franklin. We had already been spoilt.
One outstanding exception to my general feeling of 'ho hum' was this public exhibition of a great sense of humour on one shop door. How I do love quirky!
I made previous mention of the fact that significant forests surround the Huon Valley. We decided that we should not leave here without a quick run out through the nearby hamlet of Judbury towards Lonnavale and beyond, completing the circuit by crossing the Huon at Judbury and returning along the southern side of the river through Glen Huon.
We knew that we would be on dirt for most of this trip, and indeed we were, within a few kilometres beyond Huonville central.
As we reached the point where the Judbury bridge came into view further along the valley, a smudge on the far mountain ridge caught our eagle eyes.
Surly not this late in the year? Yes indeed, streaks of snow gleaming white against the dark forest background through the distant haze. What a picture this was, and how utterly typical of this part of the island.
With no particular plan in mind, we just headed out into the forest country
where the roads narrowed, the timber towered,
and we were warned of the ever looming presence of large log trucks. Fortunately we only had to share the road with two of these (and for 'share' read scuttle off to the left hand edge of the road as quickly as possible as these monsters thundered through.....these guys are notorious and much unloved for their exercise of the 'might is right' rule.)
But irrespective of the trials of these encounters, our tramp through the forest country, hill and down dale,
brought its own rewards. Small, one way bridges can present a challenge,
but in this kind of country negotiating these rocky rivulet crossings
provided its own scenic prize. It was not too far beyond this point that we realised that our charts were less than adequate and we were not quite sure where we were being taken (that would probably be better put as 'neither the navigator nor I really knew where we were going, and more significantly, where we might end up'!). As the road deteriorated we took the easy way out, or rather made a cautionary 'U' turn, and
headed back to a river crossing of a very different kind as we made our way over to the southern bank of the Huon
and rejoined the black top as it wound its way downstream through the valley towards Glen Huon.
As typical through this country as the log trucks were in the mountain forests, old wooden roadside apple sheds were as dilapidated as they were common.
In a much better state of repair, this beautiful little country church gleamed white and green in the struggling sunlight, displaying an architectural style of high pitched gables and a bell spire which we had also found common in this area.
Surly not this late in the year? Yes indeed, streaks of snow gleaming white against the dark forest background through the distant haze. What a picture this was, and how utterly typical of this part of the island.
With no particular plan in mind, we just headed out into the forest country
where the roads narrowed, the timber towered,
and we were warned of the ever looming presence of large log trucks. Fortunately we only had to share the road with two of these (and for 'share' read scuttle off to the left hand edge of the road as quickly as possible as these monsters thundered through.....these guys are notorious and much unloved for their exercise of the 'might is right' rule.)
But irrespective of the trials of these encounters, our tramp through the forest country, hill and down dale,
brought its own rewards. Small, one way bridges can present a challenge,
but in this kind of country negotiating these rocky rivulet crossings
provided its own scenic prize. It was not too far beyond this point that we realised that our charts were less than adequate and we were not quite sure where we were being taken (that would probably be better put as 'neither the navigator nor I really knew where we were going, and more significantly, where we might end up'!). As the road deteriorated we took the easy way out, or rather made a cautionary 'U' turn, and
headed back to a river crossing of a very different kind as we made our way over to the southern bank of the Huon
and rejoined the black top as it wound its way downstream through the valley towards Glen Huon.
As typical through this country as the log trucks were in the mountain forests, old wooden roadside apple sheds were as dilapidated as they were common.
In a much better state of repair, this beautiful little country church gleamed white and green in the struggling sunlight, displaying an architectural style of high pitched gables and a bell spire which we had also found common in this area.
The road dipped into and through Glen Huon,
with these two country homes heralding our return to the local big smoke.
But we were not yet finished for today. Four tourist targets yet remained....a drive south of Huonville to attempt to capture valley views from the heights, a visit to the renowned cafe 'My Slice of Pie' and a local winery of some repute, all finished off with a look at Ranelagh, the 'couldabeen Huonville' (except it did not have a bridge!)
Only ten minutes or so south of the river found us parked high on this small feeder road off the Huon Highway.
From here, looking out over the tops of a few homes in this small suburban enclave, the valley opened out before us to the south, annoyingly hazy but spectacular nevertheless.
I wandered around the tops well above the main highway,
clicking away in all directions, capturing rows of orchard trees on the plains below the timbered slopes
and in another spot, overlooking the wattle which was just coming into bloom, the cleared and furrowed land of a valley market garden.
with these two country homes heralding our return to the local big smoke.
But we were not yet finished for today. Four tourist targets yet remained....a drive south of Huonville to attempt to capture valley views from the heights, a visit to the renowned cafe 'My Slice of Pie' and a local winery of some repute, all finished off with a look at Ranelagh, the 'couldabeen Huonville' (except it did not have a bridge!)
Only ten minutes or so south of the river found us parked high on this small feeder road off the Huon Highway.
From here, looking out over the tops of a few homes in this small suburban enclave, the valley opened out before us to the south, annoyingly hazy but spectacular nevertheless.
I wandered around the tops well above the main highway,
clicking away in all directions, capturing rows of orchard trees on the plains below the timbered slopes
and in another spot, overlooking the wattle which was just coming into bloom, the cleared and furrowed land of a valley market garden.
And from this vantage point I could also see across the highway and wooded ridges to another type of clearing, this time high on the hill.
Small holding homesteads sitting in open patches of ground in the surrounding forest are a common sight throughout the Huon Valley.
This photographic jaunt up the hill had one last surprise in store. As I walked back down towards the parked Cruiser, I could not help noticing the letter box at the entrance to the driveway of this house.
Artistic, I thought, but this was not the end of it.
A few more steps brought these extraordinary creations into view, a dragonfly and redback
Small holding homesteads sitting in open patches of ground in the surrounding forest are a common sight throughout the Huon Valley.
This photographic jaunt up the hill had one last surprise in store. As I walked back down towards the parked Cruiser, I could not help noticing the letter box at the entrance to the driveway of this house.
Artistic, I thought, but this was not the end of it.
A few more steps brought these extraordinary creations into view, a dragonfly and redback
spider both mounted on old tree stumps. Now that was different, and given their setting, oddly appealing...well to me at least!
Not far back along the main highway, another dirt road led off down to a little district called The Dip, where our passage through the surrounding apple and cherry orchards
brought us to the oddly isolated premises of My Slice of Pie, a cafe/bakery with an enviable local reputation.
Surrounded by a neat little garden,
and home to yet more quaint outdoor art,
this almost incongruously modern building was home to some fine fare. We declined the offer of lunchtime soup and a home made roll, but did depart clutching apple and cherry pies cosseted in white paper bags. Our verdict.....the apple pies were nothing special, but the pastries filled with plump juicy cherries were in a class of their own.
Two down, two to go. A short drive back towards Huonville from The Dip found us meandering along the entrance driveway of
the Home Hill winery where
the pressed earth building which houses its cellar door and restaurant,
looks out over the adjacent vineyard slopes.
brought us to the oddly isolated premises of My Slice of Pie, a cafe/bakery with an enviable local reputation.
Surrounded by a neat little garden,
and home to yet more quaint outdoor art,
this almost incongruously modern building was home to some fine fare. We declined the offer of lunchtime soup and a home made roll, but did depart clutching apple and cherry pies cosseted in white paper bags. Our verdict.....the apple pies were nothing special, but the pastries filled with plump juicy cherries were in a class of their own.
Two down, two to go. A short drive back towards Huonville from The Dip found us meandering along the entrance driveway of
the Home Hill winery where
the pressed earth building which houses its cellar door and restaurant,
looks out over the adjacent vineyard slopes.
Home Hill wines are much touted in all the local and more far reaching tourist information. As we wandered in past the two
somewhat eclectic entranceway water features, we did wonder if this was to be yet another Tasmanian cellar door at which a self promotional vinous offering comes with an attached fee.
Sadly this was so, with charges set on a sliding scale dependent of the number of wines one wished to sample. My current but vague recollection was that four tiny tipples would attract a $5 fee with a further two tastings doubling the price. I cannot now swear to that.....but you get the idea.
In any event, with the tasting refund contingent on a purchase, and with a prices of nearly $40 for their bubbles, $28 for a white and the pinots ranging from $75 down to $28, this was never going to happen.
The cellar door restaurant was slick and smart, again with prices to match (and engaged in one of my pet restaurant peeves....an extra charge for any accompanying 'sides'......aka veggies!
So, as far as this winery was concerned, we came, we saw, but they did not conquer, and I'm glad we departed with wallets intact. A glass or two of Home Hill white wines sampled on a later occasion did not overly impress.
And now for the final run, back through Ranelagh (which was only about half a kilometre from our park entrance), where we stopped briefly under a shade tree whilst I toddled off
to capture photographic evidence of the strength of the local cherry industry in the shape of this huge 'Cherry Packers' shed.
On the opposite corner, the arresting style of the Huon Anglican Church with its rear graveyard
and adjacent church hall demanded my attention. What a stunning building.
And before we returned to our digs, I had one final local mystery to solve. What on earth was this building?
And the answer is....a most individual dwelling indeed, obviously modelled on an oast house.
Well, dear readers, that is finally it for Huonville, with just a couple of parting caravan park snippets, including a visit from one of the farm chooks (Max was inside at the time),
Max and mistress relaxing outside,
the late afternoon sun highlighting the distant craggy mountains,
and, early on the following morning, that of our departure, just the opposite....mist rising over Mountain River.
What an absolute treat the Huon Valley was. After this short sojourn we can attest to the fact that its reputation for produce and scenery is well deserved, and we've yet to visit Cygnet and surrounds!
But now we were off to do something completely different....another boat trip and a visit to 'an island, off an island, off an island' (as they say). Bruny Island here we come, but not before I had to fly back to Adelaide as I have previously explained.
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