We knew Coles Bay was near when we first caught sight of the Hazards, a humpbacked mini-range of pink granite hills which are the defining feature of Freycinet National Park. Despite their lack of inches, their weathered peaks remain an imposing presence, mainly due to the flatness of the surronding coastland.
We checked into our budget caravan in the Iluka Holiday Park and we immediately set out to explore Tourville Lighthouse, set high on a windswept point , wanring ships away from the rocky penninsula. We returned via the ubiquitous visitors centre to pick up some information on walks in the area.
Next day, we headed back into the National Park to tackle the Wineglass Bay/Hazards Beach along with what appeared to be the entire poulation of Tasmania. Our first view of the much photographed bay was from a platform less than an hour down the track. Beautiful but distant, the waters in the crescent shaped bay shone turquoise in the morning sun.
Fortunately, most people turned back at this point leaving the more determined to carry on to the bay itself. When we arrived on the beach it was nice to rest on the powdery white sand and watch the waves - despite being covered head to foot for fear of mosquitoes and burning from the intense sun.
We carried on through bushland over a narrow isthmus which led us to Hazards Bay, a long sweep of deserted beach notable for the shell strewn aboriginal middens dotted along the dunes which rose sharply from the beach.
After a long and sweaty trek, we eventually completed the loop which took us back to the carpark where we were met by a small wallaby munching a discarded apple in the shade of our car - our first 'in the fur' marsupial!
The following day we donned our walking shoes again, this time with the intention of climbing to the top of one of the Hazards - Mt. Amos. Billed as a strenuous three hours up and down, we joined 'teams' from various other nations on their 'summit attempts'!
We soon left behind the Japanese team but were overtaken ourselves by a British couple who stormed past in determined fashion. Disasterously, we were then passed by a French family who, putting our technical footware to shame, appeared to be relying on cheap slip-ons and Woolworths baseball boots for grip! We quickly came to an incredibly steep section where the granite stone shone like polished marble. The speedy Brits and another couple who had been weighing up the challenge about-turned, proclaiming the climb 'too dangerous'. Our confidence rocked, we contemplated our options. As we were doing this, the Frenchies - a mum, dad, young lad and two painfully self aware teenage girls - shot up the pitch with barely a moment's hesitation. Of course, national pride was at stake and we set off in hot pursuit!
How we'd get safely down the glassy slope was far from our thoughts as we reached the top and were presented with the most stunning vista. We had a panoramic view of the whole penninsula with Wineglass and Coles Bay far below. We recongised the spot on which we were standing as that used by the postcard photographers to capture the scene and although we knew we'd struggle on the way down, the view from the top of Mt. Amos made all the effort worthwhile.
Later that afternoon, we chilled out on Honeymoon Bay, the waves gently lapping the sheltered Cove's shore. From where we lay, Mt. Amos was plainly visible, subtly chnging hue as the afternoon light shifted across its face.
On our last day we headed north, up the coast for a stroll along the Friendly Beaches, which, to quote Billy Connolly, were 'swindswept and interesting'. The sand seemed to stretch on forever, interupted know and then by intensely ripe smelling kelp washed up onto the shore.
We followed the raod up to Bicheno where the swell rocked the fishing boats in the pretty harbour. After a coffee we returned to our cosy caravan to get organised for what wolud be our longest drive in Tasmania - across country to Queenstown!
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