Our next chance at escape came in early December. With three days off in a row, it gave us enough time to head off to Tasmanians east coast, in particular a small spot called Binalong Bay. Known for it's beautiful white sands and crystal clear sea, Binalong bay is the gateway to Tasmania's famous Bay of Fires conservation area, a perfect place to indulge in some relaxation and soak up the scenery.
As far as vistas go we certainly weren't let down, the beach was stunning. Our view got even better as we walked further away from civilisation to the rocky outcrop at it's northern end. Those going on an official Bay of Fires walk would continue where we stopped, climbing over the rocks that mark the end of the bay and following the shore to more and more secluded beaches. We weren't prepared to head of on a proper hike so after we clambered up the rocks to gaze over where we'd come from, it was time to head back.
The quaint cottage we'd rented sat far above the beach, high up a steep hill, with views over the sea from very particular spots on it's covered deck. It's garden was home to laughing kookaburras during the day and mischievous wallabies that came to forage and fight during the dusk. We had chosen this holiday rental specifically because it was only fifteen minutes drive to the nearby St Helens, a tourist town full of different restaurants and cafes. Unbeknownst to us when we booked, they were all pretty much closed during the dates of our stay and the ones that were open didn't exactly have good reviews. Post covid Tasmania hasn't yet bounced back to what it was before, the amount of working holiday makers in Australia in general is lower, and fewer than ever are making it to Tassie. Although the reason why so many restaurants were closed was clear it didn't make it any less frustrating at the time! With no other option we headed to the local (and expensive) IGA supermarket to stock up on supplies and treats.
Our time in Binalong went quickly and before we knew it, it was time to head back. Here we made some classic mistakes; firstly we chose the longer more windy route, just to have a chance of scenery; secondly, we chose to drive this after to heading to a local dairy and ice creamery where we indulged a fair amount of delicious ice cream treats. Neither of us felt particularly well as we slalomed along the winding mountainous roads, but as I was the one controlling the car as we weaved to and fro I felt like i got off lightly compared to Ben who was slowly turning an impressive shade of grey. Nether-the-less we eventually made it home and have the afternoon to settle our stomachs before getting stuck back into work the next day.
We didn't mange to get away again properly till the end of January. With three whole days off in a row we drove down to the south coast to check out Hobart. Famous for being Australia's second oldest city, the main draw for us was something rather more modern; Mona. The Museum of Old and New Art is the brain child of David Walsh, a proud Tasmanian who once opened a small and much unvisited museum of antiquities, before deciding to go big or go home.
It wasn't what I expected, the carpark was small and not well signposted. It was even harder to find the museums entrance; we wandered round the stark concrete architecture trying to follow the vague signs pointing to the way in. A small mirrored building ended up being the way into the Mona, just past the tennis court and a wrought iron lorry. From the outside, it looked like it was take no time at all to whiz around the whole thing; but I wasn't really seeing the Mona, not really, just the barest tip.
The space that we'd entered housed nothing more than a info desk and some stairs going down far into the earth below. With no real path to follow, we headed into it's depths, three floors down and decided we would work our way up. As we left the surface behind, the labyrinth that is Mona opened up in front of us, stairways and walkways branching off, art already visible in every direction. For the most part the art isn't categorised, at least not in the traditional sense; we didn't move through rooms filled with 18th century portraiture or ceramics through the ages. There was no sign posts telling us we were entering the "so & so" gallery, there wasn't even exhibit labels to tell what we were looking at. That's not to say we couldn't find out.
We were encouraged to download "The O" (Mona's app) on arrival, and with it, we had all the information we needed. A click of a button would bring up all the art in the vicinity and we could even choose between the traditional "art-wank" description - their words not mine- or "gonzo" a description for the everyman, not just for those versed in art. The app could even show us where we were in the museum, coming in handy when we had managed to miss a subterranean tunnel system that took us to a new building altogether.
I didn't like all the art. Some of it was crude and lewd and to my uneducated eye, seemingly provocative just for the shock of it all. But some of it drew me in, it was thought provoking and without the distractions of the exhibit labels, it led us to discuss it more before we looked up what the artist meant to portray. It was somehow less overwhelming, without the order of a regular gallery. My brain felt less tired than when i've walked rooms filled with oil landscape after oil landscape, reading tiny plaque after tiny plaque. It was hard to get pictures, the museum is quite dark with little natural light filtering down through the layers, besides, it felt like a place to experience rather than to view once removed through a lens.
I feel like I'm struggling to capture it. It was the antithesis of an art museum whilst still essentially being an art museum. They're trying to step away from the elitism that a traditional art museum evokes, but i'm not sure if an ever expanding museum that is the largest privately funded museum in the southern hemisphere can fully achieve that.
After many hours of exploring the museum it was time for us to head over to Source, one of the dining options at Mona, for our lunch reservation. With all the options looking delicious we decided to go for the Chefs menu. A four course tasting menu, that included a dish "Eat the Problem" that is named after a past controversial exhibition (and subsequent book) that highlighted the sustainability of eating invasive species.
I could intricately describe each dish, believe me, I have the notes; but i worry i'd just stumble my way into the gastronomic equivalent to "art wank". It was a beautiful meal, the dishes were playful and cooked perfectly, plus it was fun to explore some of the more unusual combinations. My only criticism would be a strange reliance on nut creams which made the first two courses slightly repetitious. Oh! And the servers outfits were strange: 18th century men's shirts that showed off an awful lot of accidental midriff without the high waisted trousers they were designed to be worn with.
The rest of our time in Hobart flew by. We visited the Botanic Gardens, and walked to Myrtle valley falls; we wandered the city in search of pastries and looked at taxidermy Thylacines in The Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery; we ate fish and chips on a barge on the waterfront and brought far too many doughnuts from Queens pastry. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, fitting in enough time for relaxation at our Airbnb on the edge of Mount Wellington too, before it was time to hop in the car and make the journey home.
Trip date: Jan 2024
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