Cockle Creek

 Ned's wheel stud still needed fixing, our friends, on the farm up at Nieta was the place I chose to do the job, he had the tools and equipment if needed if anything went wrong.

As it happened, nothing was needed, just parked up on the front yard and removed the back hub and replaced the offending broken part.

when all done and all caught up on the local goings on, thanks were given and farewells said, the southernmost point of the island was beckoning.

 

We wound our way southward, and I mean wound, Tasmania is a land of mountains and large hills.  Except for the midlands part, driving around involves a lot of steep, winding mountain roads.

 

Taking the inland route, we entered the highland lakes area. The largest o these lakes is called, appropriately, The Great Lake. There is a hotel overlooking the lake and we called in as it was approaching lunchtime. A crackling fire in the large fireplace welcomed us into the dining room, nice and cosy, as the temperature outside was dropping fast. Having had a very nice meal and a cool refreshment, we continued on our way.

 

Less than an hour later we drove along the shores of Bradeys Lagoon, a smallish lake with a free camp which we decided to make home for the night.

There are many lakes in Tassie, a lot of them are man made, creating storage reservoirs for the many hydro electric power stations dotted around the state. These lakes also provide recreation opportunities for the population, trout fishing being very popular. Water sking and swimming are also done, though I think you would have to be mad or Tasmanian to do ether.

 

Ended up staying for four days enjoying the good weather. We were at a high elevation, which meant temperatures were low, but not unpleasant.

 

Again the time came where we should move on, and so we did. Dropping down from the highlands, we took another few days to get past Hobart and onward to Cockle Creek, the most southern point you can drive to.

A free camp just outside the national park is where we parked for four days. A short walk takes you to the beach and a short drive through the national park deposits you at the states edge. We had been there before, but visited again and Din kissed the whale sculpture at the point as she had done before.

Dull and sometimes rainy days saw us leaving after the four days, still, it was worth the trip.

 

On the way north again we called into Hobart, where a friend of ours lives. Spending a night parked outside his house we caught up and were on our way the next day.

 

Heading north again, we took a different road into the lakes, we were headed to Dee lagoon, another lake in the highlands. Tasmania being the size it is, destinations aren't  that far apart, though times are longer given all the slow, winding mountain roads.

 We arrived at Dee in the late afternoon and set up camp, which consisted of pulling up and opening up the side awning. In the morning, I scouted about and found we were all alone again, just how we like it.

Another five days spent there, a couple of fishermen the only people seen. Fly fishermen are interesting to watch, deftly swishing the line backwards and forwards in graceful arcs until dropping the fly in a predetermined spot where the trout sees it as a tasty bug to pounce on.

 Unfortunately, no one caught a fish while we watched, but we were entertained anyway.