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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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]
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
🌊 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.
Trischs Travels 