Veronika Wild

First glimpse of  Derby, pronounced Derby, not Darby Resisting the urge to travel over yet another unmade road - mileage unknown, to the state’s most northerly point – Cape Portland, I headed south east through two more former mining towns, Gladstone and Pioneer, which have not yet capitalised on their tourist potential. To be fair, Pioneer did have BBQ facilities on top of the hill, and Derby, which I visited next, looked much like this the last time I saw it almost two decades ago. Their importance should not be underestimated either. Not only did such small towns contribute enormously to the wealth of the infant colonies and permit them to forget their convict origins and forge a nation, but they led  the way out of depression and a life of rural servitude, greatly improving the lot of most people’s lives . Derby, Main Street, looking east Although known since the Bronze Age and mined in small quantities for rustproofing tools, weapons and kitchen utensils, ...

Young Neighbours' Easter Tree Happy Easter Everyone! Beware of the Dog! I wanted to give the Easter Bunny a bit of a helping hand on Saturday night. My young neighbours had made a pretty Easter Tree decorated with painted eggs, and I thought it would be fun to add a couple of chocolate rabbits. I had no sooner let myself in the front gate when I heard their dog bounding up. I had never actually seen this dog, only heard it's fearsome bark on the other side of the fence, so when it lunged at me I feared the worst. Then it tried to lick me to death.  Great watch dog! That's the last time I'm going over there at night.

Eddystone Light (1888) at the most easterly point of Tasmania - looks pretty impressive. Can't understand why Australian Geographic left it out of their recent feature on lighthouses, unless it had something to do with the road Although I promised my van that if it lived, I would never, ever make it go on unmade roads again, it wasn’t long before I broke that promise.   With more people arriving at the Bay of Fires, I decided to go further north. Friends who had had a shack at Musselroe Bay had long waxed lyrical about that area, although they had since sold the shack. There was a kind of Hobson’s choice from here. Do 52 km over unsealed roads or do approximately 97 km over sealed roads via the main highway to Gladstone and then 23   km of unsealed roads, though the map wasn’t at all clear on the mileages in this area. No points for guessing which one I took. In my defence,  I will say that the C 843 was partially sealed at the St. Helens end and ever the optimist,...

Looking like Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium, the Cranks and Tinkerer's Museum, St. Marys I was lucky this time. After chatting for a couple of hours in the mechanic’s workshop -as you do in the country, while he worked on other jobs – and you must never rush these things, he finally took a look at the van. He tightened the fan belt, cleaned out the fuel filter, checked the tyres, laid a skilled hand upon it here and there and after a test drive, pronounced it good to go. Alas, when I rang my friend to tell her the good news, she had already decided to go by bus. Feeling all dressed up with nowhere to go, I decided to continue where I had left off. Back in Fingal, I sought out the Forestry Offices but was dismayed to find the building not only closed but for sale . U ndeterred, I drove on to the Meadstone Falls turnoff but here there was only a very large sign saying “Road Closed.” Coal Miners' Commemorative Wall at Cornwall Since I was now three quarters o...

A study in desuetude - my first glimpse of Rossarden, reputedly the 'crime capital' of Tasmania Royal George was the first of several former mining towns I was to pass that day – Avoca, Fingal, Mangana – site of Tasmania’s first gold rush in 1852, and many others which have faded away. Not only gold but tungsten, coal and tin were mined in the region which displays evidence of former wealth in substantial churches, old hotels and elaborate shops, despite many of them being closed. The valley communities fortunate enough to have fertile soils and water, or at least passing tourists on their way to the East Coast, have continued to survive if not exactly thrive, while those set back in the hills have disappeared or become ghost towns or mere shadows of their former selves. Rossarden was one of the latter. I was somewhat intrigued by Rossarden, home to Tasmania’s biggest tin mine between 1930 and 1950,  since it has the somewhat dubious distinction of being hailed ...