Tasmania - Crafty Gorgeous Penguins

We left for Tassie (pronounced Tazzie) on Saturday the 3rd. The check-in attendant in Sydney said we were going to the “butt end” of Australia. I have to disagree whole-heartedly with his assessment of Tasmania. It’s more like the version of Australia that is greener and cooler and doesn’t look like it has spent forever struggling to survive.

One of the reasons we picked the week to come that we did was the “world’s biggest craft fair in the southern hemisphere” was scheduled for the first weekend. That meant our first day was craft fair day and so we spent a good portion of Sunday checking it all out. “Wow” is all I have to say.

They had a huge variety of crafts and even blacksmiths there plying their trade in what could only be a really hot, sweaty, and exhausting way of getting anything done. It’s probably a good thing anything I or Eric desired to buy would have to fit in an already pretty full suitcase. Especially since he was slobbering over some of the implements the blacksmiths created and I was secretly desiring some bags. This strange fascination with bags started some time ago, but is getting harder to ignore. I keep wondering if this is something I should be concerned about; you know, the slippery slope to fawning over lace doilies and stuff like that.

We parked at the showgrounds so we had the added benefit of getting to watch sheepherding dogs do their thing in preparation for the sheepherding championships. It was fascinating to watch especially as we got to see the young dogs in training and their “rough edges” which occasionally caused the sheep to bolt for it. It was an interesting slice of life in a place where they’ve got sheep everywhere you turn.

We ended the day with Cataract Gorge in Launceston. It’s a lovely gorge in the midst of the city. We hiked around to the bridge only to find that the way back was full of ups and downs – ups and downs that my knees were decidedly unhappy about participating in. I really hate this aging thing.

Even though the day was over, we had one more stop. For more than two years now, I have been stalking some very particular prey. I’ve seen penguins and wombats, but it has always been at a zoo. That is not the same thing as seeing one in the wild in my book so I have been looking avidly for these critters in the wild.
I’d heard there were penguins that frequented an area not too far from where we live. Heaven knows I have checked that spot a bunch of times with no success whatsoever. So when Eric wanted to know if I was interested in going on a penguin tour, it was clearly a rhetorical question. We drove all the way north to Low Head which is the Bass Strait side of Tasmania and home to a colony of fairy penguins. Oh yeah!

The penguins are out feeding all day and don’t come back in until after dark. The tour people had us stand quietly on the beach and wait. They had special lights for looking since the penguins don’t have eyelids. It wasn’t long before they started trickling in. I could hardly suppress my giggly delight; they are just so darn cute!

We watched them on the beach a bit and then headed to the nearby brush which was their rookery. I was surprised they allowed us to go there. We stood to the side of the path and then waited. They waddled by as they headed to their burrow. It’s a good thing there was no moon or they might have been bothered by the reflection off my ear-to-ear grin. Again, they’re just so darn cute! They’re also really loud. Apparently catching up on the day’s news with your mate is a pretty noisy affair. I could have sat there all night, but the tour didn’t offer it. Dang!

Seeing penguins in the wild – cross that off the list with a big ol’ grin!