Devonport to Strahan (and apparently Cradle Mountain)

We head down from Devonport to Strahan, although this isn't our intended destination. The main stop of the day is Cradle Mountain National Park. The road steadily climbs up into the tasmanian highlands through a series of twisty bends, and the scenery begins to remind me of wester ross in Scotland. Though a lot mossier(?)

As we ascend up to the plateau it becomes clear why moss loves it here, it's wet, very wet. And when we leave the camper to buy permits for the national park the rain is horizontal and bloody freezing. The kind of cold that 'would take the face aff ye'. This is more like December in Edinburgh, but it's Australia, but then again we're quite high up and on a small island poised above the Antartic Ocean.

We buy our permits and drive down to the car park which overlooks the Cradle Mountain track. As we arrive the cloud lifts slightly, and gives us a tiny glimpse of thPost Optionse magnificent peak. But only for about 30 seconds. The rising mountainous vista around us is slowly replaced by snow. Snow! In December, in Australia, Paul Hogan never mentioned this. But here it is, a complete whiteout.

The germinating idea about doing some hiking today is speedily withdrawn and we settle into the back of the van with cups of coffee and tea, and laugh heartily at the foolish attempts by a group of students, clad in hipster jeans and waffer-thin blousons, to tough out the blizzard.

So, for the second day in a row, there are no photo opportunities.

Well, not of any great scenery anyway. We return to the visitor centre and take a small walk around the river and through some glorious deciduos woodlands, reminiscent of Hansel and Gretel (if it was set in a forest in Scotland in December). Further adding to the gingerbread atmosphere is the constant presence of wallabies and echidnaes.

And a group of doddery Italian tourists, whether confused by the weather or the wildlife, we know not.