travelswithalice

We have returned to Hawley House where we stayed before going off to Stanley. 

They’ve given us an upstairs room this time. With two balconies. 

We’ve booked for dinner, placed our orders with sisters Chloë and Sophie, and we’re now sitting in this gloriously restful, pretty olde-worlde room. It’s all done up in sky blue.

I’ve turned the armchairs around to face the vine-clad front balcony. It looks over the lake, onto the sea, and into the mountains. All three French windows are open to the soft breezes and birdsong.

I feel right at home here. This is what my country house would feel like if I had one.

Later, I watch the moon climb up a cloud-streaked late night sky. I’m completely overwhelmed by the sight of Jupiter shining through the dark clouds that have completely obliterated the stars that had earlier blazed so bright. I wish I had a telescope! And I want to have a record of what I’m seeing. I wish I could at least take a picture!

Before I drift off to sleep, I hear creatures scampering on the balcony at the back; there is tapping on the windows, weird sounding calls, honking. It’s almost like being on safari!

In the morning, on the rear balcony, the moon is still up. There’s birdsong all around. And my gallant knight has brought me breakfast. 

Life is beautiful.

The biggest surprise of this trip has been the spectacular night sky over Tasmania. I have never seen stars so bright, so big, and so many!

I’d have come here earlier had I known that its clean air, combined with the low ambient light, makes this one of the best places in the world to marvel at the night sky.

I have yet to really study the skies against my star maps but it’s a cinch to spot Orion’s belt, Betelgeuse, and the Southern Cross, all of which I saw on our first evening in Hawley as we walked home from dinner.

I’m eager to see the aboriginal constellation, “The Emu in the Sky”.  And I have yet to see the Milky Way which must make quite a splash across these amazing skies.

In the meantime, I’m completely entranced by the first Blue Moon of March. It caught me unawares, arriving unannounced while we were at dinner.

And later in the week, on our return from Stanley: 

I know, Krissy was absolutely right. It’s no use trying to photograph the moon except with specialized equipment, not to mention expertise. However I just had to try. The urge to keep a record of something I may never see again couldn’t be denied.

This glorious waning gibbous moon is an enormous orange egg blazing bright in the east, climbing sideways up a star-strewn sky. And traveling alongside it is the glowing planet Jupiter. It’s impossible to miss as it outshines everything in the heavens, save the moon itself. It looks like a circle of distinct light points and doesn’t appear to twinkle, its light steady unlike that of the more distant stars. 

To completely mangle my Shakespeare: 

There are more dreamy things in heaven, Horatio, than on earth in sleepy Hawley.

It feels like the edge of the world. It’s breathtakingly beautiful. 

The spectacular windswept expanses, along with the neat chocolate-box houses, reminds me of the movie, “The Light Between Oceans”. 

No wonder. We’re staying in The Ark, a sweet little hotel nestled at the base of the great monolith they call The Nut. It has commanding views of the sea and happens to be where the film’s producer also stayed. 

We’re standing in the driveway looking out across the street into the sea. Chris, the hotel owner, points to a spot on the beach.

“That’s where Michael Fassbender’s character walks up from the boat.”

And whereas the movie’s lighthouse is actually located in New Zealand, several scenes were filmed here, as demonstrated by billboards posted at strategic areas in the town centre.

Last night, we spent the better part of two hours hunkered down on a bluff overlooking Bass Strait. Even in my hooded bubble jacket, I was freezing. I was also feeling a little scared sitting on the hard ground beside Stuart, fearing we may find ourselves skittering down from our steep perch into the rocks below.

We were on penguin watch.

The penguins didn’t show up. I did manage to see a baby one deep in its burrow waiting to get fed by its absentee mother. Apart from that, and coming across a wallaby that was too willing to be photographed I wondered if it was injured- it wasn’t, judging by the way it soon bounded out of the way- the outing was a failure.

The views however were nothing short of cinematic.