The Departure: Part Two
Dear Adventurous Reader,
The second day was as eventful as the first, with new experiences, early days and tents been set up in the dusk - yes, one night into the camping part of our trip and we arrived late. It was worth it, as we stopped at a park for hot chips in bread for dinner.
Up and At Them
The alarm sounds early. A musical tone singing at the end of a dream, that brings me back to reality, and slowly, one by one, we woke up to start the second part of the beginning of our Tasmania trip.
Jacqui and I have spent two nights up late packing panniers, we are still getting a feel for what is right - what pannier should hold what. This morning those late nights paid off as we managed to wake, dress, pack what was left over and load our bikes within 60 minutes. Granted, this did not include packing tents (staying in a backpackers was nice), but we are off and riding nice and early.
It wasn’t raining when we got outside, but the grey clouds, flecked with dark grey patches, drifted in the sky. A light mist of rain in the air, threatened our ride, bringing back memories of yesterday's Grand Depart. Jackets on. Adeline is yelling, protesting about joining Elijah in the bike carriage, so we strap her into the Orange Bike Seat, and head out into the early morning traffic.
Through the streets until we get back to Beach Parade. A tail wind! Thank Heavens, a tail wind. After yesterday's "all weather riding" we got a tail wind in the morning and took full advantage of it, just like the Lycra clad road cyclists that speed down Beach Parade, we form a line and push hard toward the Spirit of Tasmania. Gears click behind us, as commuters speed past our long caravan. “Have fun at school.” one Gent said... If only he knew.
The bikes took us past all the cars waiting to board our vessel, which is a fantastic thing about bicycles.
Customs. Waiting. Empty kerosene from a bottle. Waiting. Parking. Embarking. Excitement.
Boat Rides and Boredom
The ferry is long and large, just right for exploring, after we eat breakfast. We forgot to bring food, between packing and organising, and getting ready, we forgot to get snacks to take with us. This little mistake will cost us during the voyage.
Travel Tip 1
Be okay with making mistakes, you can always fix them up the second time. If there is no second time, then you can only make the mistake once.
We ordered breakfast, the younger boys already showing signs of what kind of day it would be, Grumpy and Fussy were brief guests at our breakfast table.
There is only so much exploring tired legs can do. We walked a few steps and watched as the city of Melbourne faded behind us, the grey clouds blanketed the sky and eventually the cold wind forced us to turn inside. During the trip in the shelter of the Port Phillip Bay we walked through the ferry finding the cinema, the toilets and the food places.
We pass through The Heads and into open sea, the boys disappear into the cinema and I walk outside onto the deck, standing against the rail, the wind buffeting against me, thumping in large gusts. The waves break at the bow, huge white and rolling away from the ferry as she moves toward Tasmania. From up here, seven stories above sea level, the water seems so small and so vast.
I look out to the horizon, wondering what country is in that direction; wondering if I would find land at this longitude or just myself again, on this ferry. How many butterflies are flapping their wings to bring us this wind breeze?
The deep blue water meets the light blue sky, in a solid and clear horizon. I have never been in the open sea, the vastness of the ocean scares me, plus I get travel sick, but standing here on the deck of a ferry, in the open sea, I can appreciate the beauty.
Apparently being stuck on a ship with movies to watch, food to eat and card games to play is "boring". Levi informed me of this as we were nearing the end of the ride, so I asked him to come out and watch the coast of Tasmania grow around us.
Arrival
We arrive in at Devonport, at the mouth of the Mersey River, at the end of the day. We cause some hassle for some other cyclists because they had to move our bikes, we are photographed by a Japanese bicycle tourist who appreciates the size of our convoy, and we roll away from the dock with everyone happy to be off the water.
Down the main street of East Devonport we see a sign for Fish and Chips and decide that it would do for dinner. We tour around to three caravan parks, the first is too full, the second is closed, but the third is just right.
We pitch our tents as the light fades, and the sun falls behind the hills, across the Mersey River, behind Devonport city centre. We finish setting up as the ferry departs for the night journey, open waters and Melbourne by the morning.
A long two days behind us, we fall asleep, in Tasmania.