WEEK 3 — East Coast Magic, Jewel-Like Beaches & Dancing Skies

If Week 2 was about community spirit and country towns, Week 3 was all about Tasmania showing off — beaches so bright they looked photoshopped, seashells that could pass as gemstones, and an Aurora that waltzed across the sky just for us.

The East Coast is a place where nature doesn’t just whisper — it sings.

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1. East Coast First Impressions — White Sand & Lichen Fire

There are some places where words barely keep up with reality, and the East Coast is one of them.

White sand so pure it squeaks.
Turquoise water that glows from within.
Granite boulders painted in blazing reds and oranges by lichen — like nature’s own graffiti.

Every tide delivered fresh treasures to the shore: shells, driftwood, seaweed in jewel tones. An ever-changing gallery curated by the ocean itself.

This coastline is not just beautiful — it’s alive.

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2. St Helens Conservation Area — Dolphins & Daydreams

Our first stop was the St Helens Conservation Area, where we drove out to Akaroa and witnessed dolphins — actual dolphins — surfing in the waves.

I don’t often run out of words, but this time I did. Watching them dance through the swell felt otherworldly. Like the ocean had decided to share one of its best-kept secrets.

St Helens township itself was busy but cheerful. We grabbed lunch at the bakery, restocked at the IGA, and headed straight back to the coastline. The conservation area had left its mark, and we weren’t finished soaking it in.

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3. Jeanneret Beach — Seagulls With Personality

We parked up at a free beachfront camp at Jeanneret Beach, where the local seagulls introduced us to their social hierarchy.

There was definitely a boss — loud, pushy, and convinced he owned the place.
But our favourite was the one-footed gull, who held his own like a tiny feathered warrior.

Two species joined us here:
✨ the elegant little Silver Gulls with their red beaks and hypnotic red eye rings
✨ and the much larger, moodier Pacific Gulls

Simple entertainment, but absolutely hilarious.

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4. Binalong Bay & The Gardens — Turquoise Heaven

Moving north, Binalong Bay and The Gardens offered more dazzling water, perfect sand, and the famous lichen-painted rocks of the Bay of Fires.

It’s impossible not to slow down here. Nature insists on it.

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5. Shelly Point — Where the Beach Shimmers With Jewels

Shelly Point might be the most fittingly named place in Tasmania.

Turning right on the beach: thousands of cockle and scallop shells.
Turning left: tens of thousands of tiny spiral shells.

Candy Cane Shells. Mermaid’s Tears. Their real name temporarily escaped me, but the magic did not.

They shimmered in the sun like tiny pearls — like the beach was sprinkled with diamonds. I could have stayed there all day, sifting through nature’s treasure.

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6. Scamander Sanctuary — Driftwood Art & Home-Cooked Comfort

Next stop: Scamander Sanctuary Holiday Park — $37 a night, and worth every cent.

The ensuite showers were heavenly, the camp kitchen was the best we’d seen (we even cooked roast pork and vegetables like proper grown-ups), and the local birdlife kept us company.

On the beach, someone had used driftwood to create public art — a natural sculpture garden shaped by tide, time, and whoever wandered through with an artistic impulse.

Scamander felt untouched. Quiet. Unspoilt. The kind of place you could easily lose a week — or more.

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7. Bicheno Blowhole – at low tide

Yes it was low time but we still managed to capture the force of nature as the ocean erupted between the massive rock formation that creates the blowhole.

Once again nature provided with her magic, little sea creatures and shells caught in the water in crevices, perhaps waiting for the tide to return transporting them back from where they came.

8. Spiky Bridge — Convict Engineering at Its Quirkiest

Heading south, we pulled in at Spiky Bridge, built in the 1840s by convicts who either had a very practical purpose in mind, or a quirky sense of humour.

Made entirely of spiky upright stones, it’s part art installation, part engineering relic — unmistakably Tasmanian.

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9. Forest Tunnels — Mayfield Bay, Rocky Hills — Chasing the Aurora

We passed through a beautiful forest tunnel on the way to our next stop for the day. There is something quite surreal about driving slowly beneath the canopy of trees as they arch across the roadway to meet the trees from the other side thus forming a tunnel.

We found a rustic beachside campsite at Mayfield Bay — toilets only, but a million-star location.

And we had a mission:
✨ see the Aurora Australis ✨
Bucket list for both Leslie and me.

Aurora activity was predicted from midday, and we noticed strange colours in the sky shortly after. Was it aurora? Was it cloud play? Unsure — but intriguing.

That night we bundled up in the freezing cold and waited.

And then…
Magic.

The sky danced.
Not bright to the naked eye, but through the camera — breathtaking.
Greens, reds, purples — a celestial curtain swaying across the southern sky.

A moment I’ll never forget.

We stayed a second night in the wild wind, hoping for a repeat. A full rainbow greeted us in the morning, sun shimmering jewel like over the water like a promise. That night we captured some night colours, but no definite aurora. Still — the cold was fierce, so we surrendered and headed to bed early.

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10. Triabunna — Maria Island Will Have to Wait

We stopped into Triabunna to check ferry times for Maria Island. With the van needing to be back in New Norfolk soon, we knew we’d save that adventure for later.

Maria Island wasn’t going anywhere — Tasmania always leaves you with reasons to return.

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11. Buckland — A Church of Light & History

In Buckland we visited the 1846 convict-built Anglican Church of St John the Baptist.

Its famed East Window — believed by some to date from the 14th century — glowed spectacularly in the sunlight. Ten panels forming a tall, elegant lancet structure, illuminated in stunning colours.

Outside, the old graveyard whispered stories of early settlers.

Nearby stands Ye Olde Buckland Inn, one of Tasmania’s oldest pubs, built around 1840 and full of character.

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12. Tasmanian Bushland Garden & Sculpture Park — Volunteers With Vision

This garden is a quiet treasure.

What began as the dream of a few locals — showcasing native plants of South East Tasmania — has grown into a beautiful space filled with sculptures, interpretive storyboards, and native flora.

I’d visited in 2018. Returning now, I could see how much progress had been made. Proof of what small, dedicated groups can achieve.

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13. The Sorell Causeway — A Road Through the Water

Leslie was fascinated by the Sorell Causeway, and I remember the first time I drove it years ago — high tide, waves curling up the side, and my knuckles gripping the wheel in a delicate shade of terror.

This time the tide was low and the history revealing itself:
Convict-built beginnings in 1850
Completed in 1872
Designed to shorten travel and support a railway
Modern reconstructions linking with McGees Bridge

A road with a story.

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14. Back to New Norfolk — Rest, Real Beds & Regrouping

Week 3 was shorter for travel because we aimed for New Norfolk — a couple of days of real beds, long hot showers, and a break from the road.

My van needed to be organised to go back on the tow truck for repairs, so we paused, recharged, and prepared for Week 4.

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🌊 And That’s Week 3

If Week 1 was mountains and mist, and Week 2 was heart and history, then Week 3 was pure nature worship.

From jewel-like shells to turquoise water…
from driftwood art to dolphin dancers…
from ancient stained glass to a sky alive with colour…

The East Coast gave us everything — calm, wonder, and a little cosmic magic.

WEEK 2 — Caves, Cheese, Coastlines & Community Spirit

Travelling with Leslie is one of life’s great certainties. We’ve done enough adventures together to know we share the same travel philosophy: slow down, take the roads less travelled, and always stop for anything involving nature, cheese, or suspiciously magical-looking moss.

Week 2 served all of that — and more.

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1. Sunshine, Mountains & Mole Creek Bound

We woke to a morning so bright it felt like Tasmania was apologising for Week 1’s dramatic weather. With the sky scrubbed clean and the air fresh enough to taste, we turned the van north before curving south along yet another winding mountain road — the kind Tasmania specialises in.

Everything about the drive to Mole Creek felt like a gentle invitation to slow down and see. Not just look, but see — the way morning light falls through trees, the sweep of green hills, the tiny wonders most people miss when life moves too fast.

Marakoopa Caves — Glow Worms & Quiet Bravery

In 2018, I did something I never thought I would: I stepped into a cave despite my claustrophobia. It changed something in me. Ever since, I’ve carried a quiet kind of courage — the kind that only grows when you do the thing that scares you.

So back I went, this time with Leslie, and we picked the Great Cathedral & Glow Worm tour. Beautiful, yes. Impressive, yes. But after the magnificence of the Underground Rivers tour I’d done previously — the one that stole my fear and replaced it with wonder — the Cathedral felt gentler, smaller.

Still, caves are extraordinary.

A constant 9°C.
Walls shaped by time and water.
Glow worms clinging to ceilings like fragile stars.

And endless opportunities to bash your head if you forget to duck.

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3. Honey, Cheese & Ice Cream — The Holy Trinity

Back on the road, our tastebuds led the way.

Melita Honey Farm — Chudleigh

My daughter had placed an order for her favourite Red Gem honey — the only honey she’ll eat. Naturally, we complied.
Naturally, we taste-tested everything in sight.
Naturally, a Pistachio Honey came home with us too. 🍯

Ashgrove Cheese

My all-time favourite. You’re greeted by painted cows — part art project, part dairy education — and it’s impossible not to smile. We stocked up on our bodyweight in cheese, doing our bit for the local economy.

Christmas Hills Raspberry Farm (…too early!)

Not a raspberry to be found. But consolation was just across the road at Van Diemen’s Land Creamery, where we indulged in ice cream and admired some stunning cotton thread artwork by a local artist. Her work has to be seen, photo doesn’t do it justice. The colours are vibrant and detail is intricate. https://www.facebook.com/cindywatkinsartist?

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4. Launceston: When the Bunnies Lie to You

Our overnight stop near Launceston looked promising at first: adorable bunnies hopping everywhere like tiny omens of cuteness.

And then we saw the amenities.
Oh dear.

So bad that even our low expectations backed slowly away and refused to participate. We opted for a “road trip bath” instead of the showers and avoided the camp kitchen entirely. Cleanliness? Not today.

Leslie’s attempt to climb to the upper bunk — which was more board than mattress — became the comedic highlight of the evening. I, smugly, had my 15-cm mattress rescued from my dearly-missed van.

Lesson learned: ALWAYS check the reviews.

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5. Grindelwald — A Swiss Surprise in Tasmania

Morning saw us fleeing Launceston at speed and heading to Grindelwald, a charming Swiss-style village created by a Dutch migrant with a dream.

Chalets, flower boxes, a bakery that delivered a beautiful breakfast — it was whimsical and strangely peaceful.

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6. Beaconsfield Mine — Strength, Memory & Community Spirit

This visit was different.
Quiet.
Emotional.
Grounded.

Like many Australians, I remember the 2006 Beaconsfield mine disaster vividly — the collapse, the rescue operation, the endless days of uncertainty. I was glued to the news each night after work, watching a small community hold its breath.

But visiting the site — standing where those events unfolded — stirred something deeper.

You know this already: I’ve worked alongside communities after natural disasters. I’ve seen what resilience really looks like — ordinary people rising to extraordinary challenges, linked together by something invisible but powerful.

Walking through Beaconsfield Mine’s displays and stories brought all of that back.

The strength.
The heartbreak.
The unity.
The determination to keep going even when the outcome was unknown.

One life lost. Two lives saved.
A community forever changed.

It’s hard to find words for the feeling — but it’s something like reverence.

Insert photo: Beaconsfield Mine exterior or exhibits]

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7. Seahorse World, Handfish & Blue Fairy Wrens

A gentler rhythm returned at Beauty Point. Seahorse World offered colour, curiosity, and the charming oddity that is the Handfish — rare, unusual, and full of personality.

Our caravan park was the opposite of Launceston’s: peaceful, clean, and alive with blue fairy wrens dancing around the van like living confetti.

We stayed two nights, rested, and watched the moon shimmer across the water — my favourite kind of quiet magic.

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8. Greens Beach & A High-Point View

We drove up to Greens Beach and began to venture toward the lighthouse, but the track through the National Park looked questionable. Instead, we wound our way to the highest viewpoint and admired the sweeping coastline from above.

Beautiful, moody, windswept — classic Tasmania.

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9. Low Head — Penguins, Rain & Nature’s Little Artworks

Cold. Rainy. Wind-whipped.
But we were determined to find penguins at Low Head — and we did: one adorable bird peeking from a nesting box.

The lighthouse still boasts the only operational Type D Diaphone Foghorn in the world, lovingly restored. It sounds at noon every Sunday and must shake the souls of seagulls for kilometres.

The beach looked ordinary at first glance, but as we walked, its secrets revealed themselves: coloured algae, tangled seaweed, shells, tiny treasures the sea gifts to those who slow down enough to notice.

This is why I love nature.
This is why I travel slowly.
Beauty is always there — but you must meet it halfway.

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10. Scottsdale — Clouds, Quiet & War-Time Stories

Driving inland, clouds hung low over the mountains like soft grey blankets. Scottsdale RV park was peaceful, with ponds, ducks, and donated facilities that were surprisingly good.

But the standout was the Children’s Park — a thoughtful blend of play space, gardens bursting with rhododendrons, and heartfelt tributes to men and women who served in war. A gentle way of teaching history to young hearts.

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11. Pyengana Recreation Reserve — Good Food & Good People

Pyengana was a delight.

We met three lovely local women having their own Melbourne Cup celebration, complete with paddock “race.” Their laughter was infectious and became one of those unexpected moments that make travel feel human and warm.

The next day brought a car boot sale at the Pub in the Paddock, home of Priscilla the drinking pig. We declined to fund her next beer — someone has to think of her liver.

Lunch at the Pyengana Farmgate Café was incredible. Bangers and mash so good I’m still thinking about them. We toured the automated dairy and watched contented cows wander in whenever they felt like being milked — absolute queens.

12. St Columba Falls, Purple Drop Bears & Hidden Halls Falls

St Columba Falls were closed due to rockfall damage, but the universe compensated with a sighting of a Tasmanian drop bear.

Purple, no less.
Very rare.
Possibly cold.
Almost definitely plastic… but who’s checking?

A local pointed us toward Halls Falls — a tricky walk down, but absolutely worth it. Water, light, and forest in perfect harmony.

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13. Heading East — Where Week 2 Ends & Paradise Begins

We rolled toward St Helens to end the week, the first hints of the East Coast appearing like a promise.

The beaches deserved — and received — a blog post of their own.
But that’s for Week 3.

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🌊 And That’s Week 2

Week 2 was a perfect balance of beauty, human stories, small wonders, and the kind of gentle wandering that fills the soul rather than the schedule.

Nature dazzled.
Communities inspired.
Roads meandered.
And Leslie and I continued doing what we do best: travelling slowly, laughing often, and noticing the details everyone else rushes past.

WEEK 1 — Winds, Waterfalls & Wandering Wombats

Prologue — Getting to Tassie: Winds, Silo Art & Sheer Determination

Before Week 1 officially begins, I need to acknowledge the warm-up act: my epic 3,000-km solo drive from Queensland, zig-zagging through NSW in search of silo art like a woman on a mission. After one ocean crossing and a whole lot of caffeine, I finally arrived in Devonport on 5 October – just in time to be greeted by winds wild enough to blow the freckles off your face.

I retreated inland to New Norfolk, where Tasmania decided to continue its wind-based hazing ritual while I caught my breath. A few days of recovery, rest, and questioning my life choices later… it was time for the “real” trip to begin.

My beloved home on wheels, however, chose that exact moment to stage a dramatic breakdown. She’d carried me faithfully across three states and one sea, but apparently Tasmania was a bridge too far – so off to the mechanics she went.

Day 1 — My Travel Buddy Arrives (right after – My Van Gives Up Immediately)

On 28 October, my Queensland travel buddy arrived to join the fun.

Cue: one hastily-hired smaller van. Not entirely off-grid, not entirely ideal, but entirely good enough to keep the adventure alive. And that’s all we needed.

Mount Field National Park — Glow Worms & Minus-One Madness

We aimed the temporary van westward and landed in Mount Field National Park, where we snagged a powered campsite for a very reasonable $20 for two adults. Bargain – until the temperature dropped to minus one overnight and we realised bargains do not come with central heating.

The highlight of the stay was a night walk to Russell Falls. There’s something magical, although slightly terrifying, about wandering through the forest after dark, guided only by torchlight and the soft shimmer of glow worms, like tiny celestial bodies strung through the undergrowth.

Morning came with frost on… well, everything. Our toes included.

A hasty trip back to New Norfolk was in order to pick up more warm bedding and the amazing Kick Ass camp heater I had left behind.

Maydena Meandering & Highlands Wandering

With numb fingers and warm spirits, we drove through Maydena, winding our way through forests and farmland that looked like scenes from a rustic postcard.

In the morning Ellendale Road took us to the Lwell Highway and past Lake Meadowbank, where the water was so still it felt like nature was trying to out-mirror itself.

Tarraleah Power & A Wall Worth Whispering About

The highlands introduced us to Tarraleah Power Station: a reminder that Tasmania doesn’t just do pretty scenery—it also does hydroelectric engineering with style. From there, we continued to Derwent Bridge to visit The Wall in the Wilderness, a jaw-dropping, hand-carved celebration of Tasmanian stories. No photos allowed inside, which is fair—some beauty belongs entirely to memory.

Lake St Clair — Mountains Wearing Snow Like Jewellery

We rolled into Lake St Clair next, where snow-capped peaks sparkled across the water like someone had sprinkled icing sugar over the mountains. Tasmania has a flair for drama, and we were absolutely here for it.

The Overland Track finishes at Lake St Claire and I was in awe, and just a tad jealous, of the hikers recovering from their adventures. Memories of crossing the Pyrenees during a blizzard in April this year flooded back and reminding me of why I won’t be undertaking the Overland Track. I will be content with looking on with envy and the utmost respect.

FUN FACT. Lake Dt Claire is the deepest freshwater lake in Australia, reaching a depth of over 215 metres. It was formed by glacial activity eons ago and is the headwaters of the Derwent River. Historically it was known by Aboriginal peoples as ‘Leeawuleena’ which means ‘Sleeping Water’.

Lake Burbury — Misty Magic, Limited Amenities

Our final destination of the day was Lake Burbury. The scenery was beautiful, the sunset was gentle, the sunrise mist was ethereal, the silence was soothing…
The amenities? Let’s just say they were character building.

Great toilets, no showers, and a vibe I’d rank as “Wouldn’t rush back, but glad I went once.” The misty morning made up for it, though—Tasmania never lets you stay unimpressed for long.

Queenstown — Halloween Brunch & Gritty Beauty

On 31 October, Queenstown greeted us with rugged hills, rich mining history, and the cheerful chaos of Queenies Crib Café. Their staff were dressed for Halloween and served brunch with flair – and possibly fake fangs.

We wandered through town admiring street art and learning about the town’s tough past. Queenstown feels like a place that has earned its character.

Zeehan’s Spray Tunnel — Google Maps Gets Creative

Our next challenge: reaching the Spray Tunnel outside Zeehan. Google Maps, in a comedic turn, kept insisting we turn right into dense bush. We persevered, laughed at our near-mythical navigation skills, and eventually found the narrow, winding track to the tunnel.

Inside we were rewarded with glow worms, soft mosses, ancient ferns, and relics of mining machinery long abandoned. Tasmania’s ability to make the wild look effortless never ceases to amaze.

As I looked around at the relics left behind I can’t help but reflect on how tough life was for the pioneers of this wilderness.

Platypus Café at Tullah — Platypuses Not Included

We stopped in Tullah for refreshments and hopeful platypus viewing. The café delivered good drinks, but the platypus?
Let’s just say the locals hold that information close to their chests.

Cradle Mountain — Mist, Magic & Wombats Living Their Best Lives

We settled into the Cradle Mountain Discovery Park for a couple of blissful nights. Heated bathrooms, heated camp kitchens—heated everything. After our frosty Mount Field experience, this felt like luxury camping at its finest.

A misty sunrise greeted us the next morning, setting the tone for a day filled with breathtaking beauty. At the Visitor Centre, we soaked up the human and ecological stories of the region before catching the shuttle to Dove Lake.

And oh—Dove Lake.
Brilliant blues, mirrored reflections, a sky that seemed freshly polished. The track provided endless panoramic moments, each one better than the last. The dramatic landscape has to be seen.

On the way back, we hopped on and off the shuttle, walked part of the Overland Track – the section aptly named Wombat Poo, and watched wombats grazing like they owned the place. Which, to be fair, they do.

Stanley — Fish, Chips & A Nut That Said “Nope”

We pointed the van north toward Stanley, arriving just in time for some of the best fish and chips we’ve had—courtesy of the local supermarket, no less.

The Nut loomed above us, looking dramatic in the wind and rain. The chairlift was closed due to the weather, so we admired it from below and promised ourselves a sunnier visit another day.

Rocky Cape & the Case of the Missing Sisters Beach

I’d visited Sisters Beach over 15 years ago when it was a pristine, secluded gem. Roads change, coastlines shift, and alas… the beach I remembered seemed to have slipped into my past.

No matter—Rocky Cape National Park distracted us with its rugged coastline, fascinating rock formations, and a reminder that nature doesn’t need perfection to be beautiful.

Penguin → Forth — Misty Mornings & Birds for Bedtime

We considered staying in Penguin to spot their famous fairy penguins, but the weather had other plans. So we continued to Forth and settled into a free riverside campground.

We expected a noisy night with the pub just across the river, but instead we were serenaded by birds perched overhead. Sometimes nature gives you exactly the soundtrack you didn’t know you needed.

Morning brought a thick, dreamy mist hovering over the water—one of those quiet moments that stays with you.

Sheffield’s Muralfest — Art Everywhere & an Alpaca Icon

We arrived in Sheffield with no idea the town was hosting its International Muralfest. Fate delivered a perfect surprise.

Twenty artists had submitted concepts; nine were chosen to paint full murals throughout the week. We spent hours wandering, watching artists at work, and admiring murals from years past.

And then we met Pedro the Poser—the local alpaca celebrity who genuinely loves posing for photos. Naturally, we obliged.

We posted cards at the iconic Post Office Tree (yes, a real tree, yes, still a functioning post box) and visited a local gallery showcasing extraordinary felt work and free-motion embroidery. Craft addicts, cover your eyes: it almost tempted me to try something new.

Almost.

Mersey Bluff Lighthouse & A Sunset Worth Waiting For

We finished Week 1 with a visit to the Mersey Bluff Lighthouse, complete with seabirds swooping overhead and dramatic rock formations along the coast.

Then the weather turned again—mist rolling in, clouds thickening, rain threatening. It felt like the sunset was cancelled.

Our last night for the week was at Gowrie Park Wilderness Village. We were preparing for an early night when in the final moments, the clouds moved aside just enough to reveal a spectacular burst of colour across Mount Roland. Tasmania loves a good finale, and this one was worthy of applause.

And That’s a Wrap for Week 1

One hire van, dozens of wild weather moments, glow worms, wombats, misty mornings, and more art than expected. If Week 1 is anything to go by, Tasmania has plenty more mischief and magic left for us in the next few weeks.