EVERYONE HAS SHEEP FOR NEIGHBOURS, DON'T THEY? - ROSEVEARS - PART 1 (STEEP SLOPES, ANIMALS, VIEWS AND THE BIG DAY) (12 - 27 DECEMBER 2017)

During our stay at Rosevears we used it as a base for several sightseeing sorties including Beaconsfield, Evandale, George Town, Low Head and Launceston itself. These of course will be the subjects of later offerings.

For starters though, I have decided to share our digs, a few of our unusual neighbours, and the fun of Xmas.

Let's begin at the beginning....getting settled. The lovely home in which our friends live is perched high on their five hectare block to make the most of the views over the Tamar (no-one here ever calls it the Tamar River....it was always just 'The Tamar'....probably because it's not a real river as I have already noted!). Like everywhere on this island, the views come with a price tag......steep slopes.

This meant, of course, that the access driveway from Bradys Lookout Road to the flat area halfway between the gate and the house (where we were to be accommodated), presented a significant gradient. It is rare that I throw the Cruiser into low range, but this was just such an occasion.

But by now we were hardened hill climbers, and although our progress was slow, things were all under control, and we had soon manoeuvred onto the large gravelled pad which had been purpose built to receive travelling guests such as we were. In the circumstances we decided that an awning was unnecessary, but our long C-Gear flooring did come in useful in providing a dirt and dust free 'doorstep'.

From here the climb up to the 'homestead', surrounded as it is by lovely trees, flowering shrubs and well kept lawns, was also seriously steep, even more so that appears in this photo 

or in this shot looking back down on the van from half way up the 'home hill'.

And as luck (or more to the point, a lack of it) would have it, poor Liz had by now come down with her own version of the dreaded Tassie chest infection which we now knew was all pervasive throughout the island. My normally very sprightly and active travelling companion was laid low indeed and apart from the personal discomfort she was suffering, climbing hills was virtually impossible.

On a couple of occasions the climb up the hill for the home based afternoon happy hour was too much for her, but we soon solved her mobility problem.....a personal taxi in the form of the property quad bike on which Gavin would normally tear around the place like a man possessed.

To Liz's great relief, Gavin curbed his natural enthusiasm for all things rapid whilst she was clinging on the back and her progress up the hill was much more sedate. As I wheezed and puffed along behind on foot, I did find the calls of "what's keeping you?" and "how long do you want us to hold the gate open?", a little unnecessary not to mention unkind! 

The stroll home was always much easier, with the exception of one particular night after a very long dinner, when my logical suggestion that progress would be much safer if we reduced the angle of descent by zig-zagging across the driveway was met with scorn and derision. I pressed on regardless.....it worked for me even if I was late back and I still refute the suggestion that my progress home had more to do with the preceding revelry than any desire to limit the steepness of the descent!

The views over the properties below us out to the Tamar on offer from our site,

and from the house, were sensational. From here we could see some of the local vineyards and the cattle properties on the opposite bank.

At the other end of the front balcony we could gaze out over the estuary downstream of Rosevears towards Gravelly Beach.

The bend in the waterway downstream from our digs looked completely different in the early morning light, 

and from time to time we were treated to the sight of quite substantial craft making progress along the estuary.

A visit to nearby Bradys Lookout provided even greater scenic rewards. From here we could see out over serried rows of neatly trellised vines (the Tamar Valley is one of Tasmania's best known wine regions)

and, in the same direction but in close up view, an original old homestead in the foreground with the cluster of much newer houses on the bend which is Gravelly Beach.

In the opposite direction the  broad waters of the estuary stretched away towards  Launceston, 17 kilometres upstream.

Silting of this waterway is a constant problem. From the lookout we could see evidence of this in the form of mudflats extending out from the western bank, a phenomenon which was common along this section of the Tamar.

Grazing properties and small housing developments are a feature of the Windermere area on the opposite side of the valley,

but without a doubt the stand-out building of this district, directly opposite Bradys Lookout, was St Matthias' Anglican Church. 











I was more than disappointed with the outcome of my amateur efforts with the camera (it was a hazy day) and have resorted to the excellent website 'Discover Tasmania' to present a much better shot of this historic church.






I am also grateful to this same site for the text which accompanied the photo which tells the extraordinary tale of this lovely little church.

 "St Matthias' Anglican Church, surrounded by a beautiful, peaceful 173 year old graveyard, is located in the rural village of Windermere and is a heritage-listed icon in Northern Tasmania. The church was built in 1842 fulfilling a promise by Dr Matthius Gaunt to his young wife before they left England. His wife was concerned that there may not be a church in the area where they would make their home. Dr Gaunt promised that if there was not, he would build one for her. St Matthias' is one of Australia's oldest rural churches and has been in continuous use since its foundation." 

I was more than amused to read on another site which extolled the beauty of this church and its history, the footnote which told all and sundry that the fishing in the river at this point was excellent.....nothing like keeping things in perspective I thought!

As we were quickly learning, the Tamar Valley is a delightful part of Tasmania, and beyond the sprawl and industry of Launceston, much of it remains quite rustic.






This even included our digs, where the slopes above and below our caravan site were the grazing grounds for Gavin's sheep,











many of which thought nothing of wandering past the van bleating a vain message of hope that something more than the grass of the paddocks might be presented for them to munch. 











Very shortly after our arrival, Liz was in a state of high excitement as she pointed to what looking initially like a small dark blob on the slope below the van. Could it be?







Indeed it was, and it became a regular late afternoon visitor as it grazed its way across the lower section of the property....a pretty little pademelon no less. 







These appealing looking wallaby type marsupials are to be found throughout Tasmania. Our first introduction to them came with our arrival in Devonport. Here signs posted in the amenities block of our caravan park advised guests to be cautious about blaming dogs for the small dark offerings to be found dotted all over the grassed areas each morning. Pademelon scats and dog droppings share a remarkably similar appearance, and I have to admit that as we set up at Devonport I had already made a few unkind and quite erroneous comments about irresponsible dog owners as I surveyed the lawn strip next to our van pad before the notice made me pull my head in!




Here at Rosevears this little chap was more than at home, nibbling  away contentedly at the grass, often in company with the sheep, but even more remarkably, as we saw on one particular evening, in alarminlgly close proximity to a very large neighbourhood cat. Amazingly these two completely ignored each other.....talk about 'the odd couple' and talk about 'rural Rosevears!


What a setting this was for a most delightful Xmas celebration. We arrived with no expectations at all, but were more than happy to accept Judy's immediate invitation to stay on for the big day. 







Xmas was certainly in the air from the moment of our arrival. The tree was trimmed and the numbers of gift packages were increasing around its base daily. 


















The big day itself dawned fine and sunny. The festive table was set and wonderfully decorated and the clear skies gave us a 'million dollar' view out over the Tamar.










With some family members already in house and others arriving for lunch, the large kitchen became a very busy spot for much of the morning. All was ready at the appointed hour. The kitchen benches were laden, as were our plates in no time at all.









Liz dressed for the occasion in her special red and white 'Xmas' shirt, the festive bubbly flowed, and we all sat down to a traditional feast.....turkey, pork and ham and all the trimmings. Sumptuous!




And then, after a 'polite pause' it was time to queue again at the servery where the meats and veggies had by now been swept aside and replaced with a traditional plum pud sitting side by side with a good old Aussie pavlova and a bowl of fresh fruit salad for those with a desire to limit the excesses of the day. I did not number myself amongst them, believe me, well not at this stage any way! Tomorrow could be a health day.








And then it was all over. Time for an after luncheon chat over port and coffee whilst others basked on the outside patio













being royally entertained by the antics of Millie, the indefatigable the sheepdog, as she splashed and slopped in her outdoor bath. Well, it was a warm day, particularly for Tassie.

Fine festive fare, the most gracious of hosts and welcoming family members.....we could not have felt more at home. What a marvellous and completely unexpected treat this Xmas Day, 2017 had been. Judy and Gav.....we owe you! 

AN UNUSUALLY LONG DAY (FOR TASSIE!) - PYENGANA TO ROSEVEARS (15 DECEMBER 2017)

As the early morning sun cast long shadows over the Pyengana recreation ground we were up and at 'em.

One hundred and sixty five kilometres lay in front of us today. This, as it transpired, became the second longest trip we did in one day during our entire Tasmanian stay... ......there is not much distance between Tassie towns!

As we drove out of Pyengana and rejoined the Tasman Highway, I knew that the comfort I had enjoyed on the relatively flat east coast section was about to become a thing of the past. The road to Weldborough and thence on to Scottsdale winds its way steeply up and down through the north-east mountains. 

We had been cautioned that for those like us who were towing over three tonnes, this is one of the more challenging highways in the state.....spot on!

But at least it was easy going to begin with as we rolled westwards through the Pyengana valley

where, on one dairy, the spirit of the approaching Xmas was on display in a most creative fashion.

Believe me when I say that there was never a truer road sign erected. The only error was that the curves in the arrow were far more benign that the highway ahead of us! I need no encouragement to slow down.

As in the past, these photos do not reflect the real nature of the road which became increasingly narrow, steep and winding 

as it climbed up through the thick forest reserves of this part of north-east Tasmania.

Massed tree ferns flourished in the wet cool climate of these ranges,

and every so often, we were rewarded with spectacular views over the edge to the valleys below.

After a hard slog uphill for fifteen minutes or more, respite came in the form of this upland plateau,

where the 'navigator-photographer' felt the urge to once more indulge her peculiar passion for photos of old Tassie sheds!

This respite was relatively short-lived however,

and the occasional (still marvellous) panoramic view

was now coming at a price......a snail's speed descent

down a very difficult steep, narrow

and sharply winding section of the road off the first ridge. I was relieved that this road is little used by large trucks (probably for a very good reason).








At the bottom of the Weldborough Pass we had another short respite as we drove into and beyond Weldborough with its famous old pub (which will be the subject of a much more detailed visit later)










and again began another climb













which was soon followed by the inevitable descent, this time as we crossed into the Dorset area and passed the last of the ferns and tall timber on this stretch of the highway.

As we again traversed a reasonably flat section of land, a new crop came into view, one which had us puzzled for a while. Then we spotted the 'Keep Out' sign hanging on the rather insignificant looking boundary fence. Of course........this was a field of opium poppies, a crop which is grown quite widely across the part of the island.

After the poppy fields came the hay paddocks















after which we began another winding descent, this time into the small old tin mining town of Derby












which we could see nestled along the Ringarooma River below the hills in the distance.








The final descent into the town was heralded by this enormous piece of rock art, where some clever soul realised the that the shape of this rock very closely resembled the head of a fish....and set to with paints and brush to produce this stunning result. Oh, and yes, the Ringarooma River is a very good trout stream!









The tin mines of Derby have long closed but this pretty and historic town has resurrected itself grandly.









You might just be able to make out the outline of a cyclist on the front verandah roof of the shop on the left in the main street. It is there for a very good reason. Cycling is big, very big, in Derby, Weldborough and other towns nearby.







World class mountain bike tracks and less demanding cycling trails now criss-cross this entire region. They attract devotees on two wheels from all over the State, the country and indeed the world. And of course this has spawned a need for accommodation of all types ranging from camping through pub stays to quite up-market B&B's.




And as if to prove the point, as we drove past the charming old Dorset Hotel, the second of Derby's two pubs, here was a chap hard at it, complete with back pack and other necessary accoutrements. We were to see many more of these hardy souls when we over-nighted at the Weldborough pub in March.








Less than ten kilometres on from Derby the highway dipped down into Branxholm











where the grand looking two storey hotel and nearby good camp ground went immediately onto our list for a return visit (but which sadly we did not get around to doing.....this time!)










From here the road took us through more beautiful, typically north-eastern Tasmanian grazing and farming country











and past more fields of flowering poppies












before we made our way through the largish town of Scottsdale. This is the central service town for the Dorset area, a district where the fertile soil and mild climate are idea for dairy farming, growing potatoes and poppies (as we had seen) and for the management of large eucalypt and pine plantations, some of which we had already driven through. 







Just beyond central Scottsdale we left the Tasman Highway and joined the B81, the road which would take us the remaining 70 kms or so into Launceston through ongoing pretty and productive  countryside.




The B81 was one of two alternative routes we could have taken from Scottsdale to 'Lonnie' (as it is universally known here). Rather by chance than design we chose the easier of them. As we were to learn later, some 20 kms south of Scottsdale the Tasman Highway traverses a mountain ridge known as The Sideling, where the towing challenges presented by the Weldborough Pass could be viewed as a training exercise....we did it much later on our Tassie tour but that will be a tale for mid March.





As it as we did have the odd hill or two to negotiate, but these were nothing compared to the hillside hijinks of the other road. 











One of the fleeting highlights of this part of our journey came in the small country town of Lillydale. Here the good townsfolk decided that the street poles needed to be spruced up, and that's exactly what they have managed to do. 



Unfortunately our plan to briefly wander these streets for a closer look than this one photo rather poorly presents, was contingent on my ability to find a safe and convenient parking spot. This plan was soundly stymied by the fact that none presented in the main street, and by the time we had traversed the town there was no safe turning area on the highway, but we did try!

It was but a few minutes from Lillydale that some of the homes on the slopes of the far side of the Tamar Valley came into view (albeit somewhat dully in the distant haze).













Our first distant peek at Launceston soon morphed into being in the thick of things











as we made our way through the heart of this large Tasmanian town and onto York Street 

which took us directly onto the West Tamar Highway, our route to our destination at Rosevears. All our planning had told us this was between Legana and Exeter....we seemed to be on the right track. 






Over the next couple of weeks we were to travel this road many times, but today we had our first look at several of the grand Launceston homes which stand almost somewhat haughtily on the western bank of the Tamar River (which is not really a river at all, but that too is a story for another day).







Twenty minutes later our trusty electronic navigator barked, "Right turn ahead", and there we were nosing our way down Bradys Lookout Road, Rosevears, with the waters of the Tamar a blue strip in front of us and a gateway soon to beckon to us on our right.





We had arrived at the home of our good friends Judy and Gavin where we were to spend the next twelve days, including, as a result of their most kind invitation to join them and their family, the big day itself on 25 December.

In my next, our home away from home north of Launceston, wonderful views, some strange neighbours and a marvellous Xmas.