Eat, drink and wander
A trip to Tasmania is incomplete without tucking into awesome seafood between taking in the sights
We’d driven past the oyster farm en route to Tasmania’s awesome Freycinet National Park but this time no Wineglass Bay, no Cape Tourville lookout, was going to hold us back.
The plan was to stop at what we imagined would be a tin shed outlet, buy a couple of dozen Tassie oysters and take them back to our accommodation for lunch. But as we pulled in, we realised our stop was going to take a little longer.
This was more than a farm; this was a dining experience.
Surprises such as this are one of the upsides of a loosely planned holiday.
We’d done little research for our trip to Tasmania and booked no accommodation. We’d stop where and when we liked, led by our eyes and our tastebuds.
Our tastebuds became very demanding at Freycinet Marine Farm. It’s more rustic than fine dining but the seafood knocked most of the classier places we tried in Tassie for six. (Another tip: try the Lobster Shack just up the road at Bicheno and graze on a garlic butter half lobster, chips and salad for $55 while watching the fishing boats come and go.)
A team of shuckers is busy behind the counter at Freycinet Marine Farm, where you can buy reasonably priced natural oysters, rock lobster or salmon sashimi and take them away immediately to eat at bright blue picnic tables sitting on a carpet of crushed shells. Or order from an array of jazzed-up seafood choices such as cucumber, finger lime and bloody mary oysters, mussels with tomato, chipotle and roasted capsicum and scallops with garlic herb butter.
We opted for the seafood chowder and it was easily the best of three versions we tried in Tasmania, a creamy sensation packed with mussels, prawns, scallops and salmon. Then came the large bowl of mussels mariniere; good sized mussels in a garlic, white wine, shallot and parsley sauce. It’s licensed, too, and there are farm tours. After scraping the shells into the rubbish as requested, we were back at the counter getting freshly shucked oysters and an octopus salad to take back to our digs for dinner. We’d planned on eating out but our cottage at Coles Bay’s Edge of the Bay Resort was so peaceful – and so much seafood needed to be sampled – a night in beckoned. Cottages are scattered about the coastal scrub, positioned in such a way that we could see only a hint of the one closest to us. Large windows in the living area and main bedroom offer fantastic views across Great Oyster Bay to The Hazards mountains.
There is a block of more expensive oceanview suites but our no-booking policy meant they were taken. But by rolling up on the day we wanted to stay, we snagged a standby rate for the cottage which we decided was better anyway. Win!
The cottages are roomy, if a little dated, but have everything needed, including a great bed and washing machine, but most importantly, direct access to the bay.
After 4pm, we wander down to the beach with a bottle of wine and the first dozen oysters, find a comfy rock and dig in as the sun starts to dip and The Hazards take on a mauve hue. We’d been up amongst The Hazards the day before, doing the 90-minute return walk to the lookout over Wineglass Bay, that iconic sweep of water embraced by a curvaceous white beach. It’s a well-trodden path that is quite steep in places but as those descending said as they passed those puffing their way up: “It’s worth it!”
We decide not to take the 1000 steps down (and back up!) to the beach. We’ve got another classic Tassie walk in store – the circuit of glacially carved Dove Lake at Cradle Mountain.
It’s a four-hour highway drive from Freycinet to the mountain but we get out our map of Tassie and plan a route taking backroads, winding our way through small hamlets and farming districts. Lunch is at Mole Creek Hotel where we enjoy a venison casserole, spending our waiting time looking at the pub’s memorabilia about the Tasmanian tiger that once wandered these parts. Some say they still do.
Mole Creek is about an hour and a half
from Cradle Mountain and where it had looked like we would spend the night because the limited accommodation offerings on the mountain were booked. Then, on our last night at Coles Bay, a final check on the website for Discovery Parks, (one of the cheaper options in an expensive field) showed a cancellation. We snapped it up and did that little happy dance known to seat-of-the-pants travellers everywhere.
After winding our way up the range, snagging glimpses of its craggy tip, we pick up the keys at the park shop and head to the cabin. It’s basic and compact but the electric fireplace works and the ferry buses that take visitors to the start of various walks are just across the road at the information centre. A little further towards the park is Peppers Cradle Mountain Lodge where we enjoy an excellent ocean trout salad and pizza at the tavern, and where some short walks begin, offering the chance of wombat and pademelon sightings.
Early next morning, with frost on the ground, a bus drops us at Dove Lake and we set off on the 6km circumnavigation along well-maintained boardwalks and paths. Now that craggy peak is not so coy, rising above the lake in a perfectly blue autumn sky. It really is spectacular.
There are a few hilly spots but it’s an easier walk than to Wineglass Bay lookout, with plenty of seating areas. It’s diverse for such a small area, with ancient myrtles and lichen-covered logs of the Ballroom Forest, open meadows, mountain streams and little detours to the lake’s edge. About 10 minutes before returning to the carpark, that most photographed of abandoned huts, Dove Lake boatshed, comes into view. With the peak towering behind the shingled, grey shed and the morning sun’s rays kissing the lake, we pop into the shed, hug an upright and snare our own version of the must-do photo. Then we put down the phone, take a seat and just soak it all up.