Eighteen Hill Street, Hobart

Joy! We arrived in Hobart and took ourselves off to our accommodation. There was the incident at the airport where I whinged about the car that the rental car had arranged for us, and then negotiated a bigger car, probably won the award for the customer from hell for the day, and basically embarrassed poor Gerhard – but I’ll gloss over that. Oh, and poor Hugo picked up the bug that Oscar had had a few days earlier and (without exaggerating) vomitted from Mooloolaba to Hobart. Poor child.
All that aside…it was a great day. We arrived at our quaint cottage, installed the boys on the pull-out settee infront of the television and popped off to the gorgeous Italian around the corner, walked around the streets overlooking the harbour (so quiet we literally whispered as we walked so as not to disturb the peace) and fell in love with Hobart.
We watched the sun set on Mount Wellington, and the early morning light on the mountain from our kitchen window. It was spectacular.
We spent our time in Hobart finding our bearings and visiting Hobart and a really very good museum – at least, I think we did…Hugo’s bug got me too. Next man down. However, I was back on form for the Saturday morning markets at Salamanca – a must when in Hobart.

Tangalooma, Day 3

This is getting hard to take…