It's not an ideal destination for city slickers, but if you want to get away from it all, and get back to nature on the other side of the world, the island of Tasmania, in Australia, has more flora and fauna than you can shake a stick at, writes Brian O'Connell
WHEN THE opportunity arose to go to Tasmania, my initial enthusiasm gave way to suspicion. Surely there are easier ways to make a living than by flying 17,500km to a former penal colony? Geographic stereotypes are stubborn, and, just like "Ireland of the welcomes", "Tasmania of the damned" lingers in the air.
In the early 1990s, shortly after the fatwa on his life was issued, the novelist Salman Rushdie liked to repeat a joke: What's blonde, has big breasts and lives in Tasmania? Salman Rushdie.
And therein lies the marketing conundrum for the island state 225km off the Australian coast. For much of its recent history Tasmania - Tassie to locals - was seen as a place of seclusion and banishment, and it became a byword for isolation. Generally speaking, convicts, chancers and the plain unlucky were banished to Tassie, some to start afresh, most to languish in penal servitude in facilities such as Port Arthur or Sarah's Island.
In later years others went there of their own accord, to get away from whatever they needed to get away from. Lord Lucan felt at home there, according to local lore; one of the island's most famous sons, Errol Flynn, became, as an actor, a master of assumed identities.
Now, though, the island is asserting its tourist potential, from Caribbean-style beaches on the east coast to quirky towns dotted through the highlands at its centre. Locals have reconciled themselves to their island's past and are happy to elaborate on the vagabonds and villains who may have fertilised their family trees.
Development has yet to over-run the coastal resorts, people have time to stop and chat, and prices remain relatively low. Remind you of somewhere, once?
The relaxed tone is set when you land at Launceston Airport after an hour's flight from Melbourne. Baggage reclaim is a DIY effort: you pick up your luggage from the airport trucks. (Fingers crossed that Michael O'Leary never finds himself at Launceston; he could be tempted to adopt the practice.)
It continues in the towns and cities. Even in the largest city, Hobart, with a population of about 200,000, the central business district is refreshingly short on high-street chains. When Tasmania's first Starbucks opened a few months ago, it had to contend with a park bench through the window as a welcome present.
Great seafood restaurants dot the waterfront, and the Henry Jones Art Hotel, even allowing for needless internet charges, is one of Australia's finest.
Tassie towns can be quirky. Take Sheffield, a one-street village that breaks the route from Launceston to Strahan on the coast. Coach tours stop so passengers can buy home-made ice cream from the Chinese takeaway at the edge of town or take photographs of Sheffield's famous murals, which depic scenes from the town's past on every available wall.
The real attractions here, though, are the locals. Chief among them is a Dutchman who walks the pavement with an immaculately groomed llama in tow. From time to time he poses for photographs in exchange for a few coins dropped into a box around the animal's neck. The llama looks like an enormous poodle, and the scene is about as surreal as it gets without chemical assistance.
Another famed resident looks as if he has stepped from the pages of a Mark Twain novel, complete with handmade leather shoes and wispy beard. Word is that he plays a mini bagpipe in a local cafe, although he refuses money so that he can live as uncommercial a life as possible.
It's Northern Exposure Oz style, and should you be brave enough to stay the night, guest houses and B&Bs are numerous.
Queenstown, a once-thriving copper-mining outpost on the edge of the central plateau, continues the quirky feel of the island. It's like an old western town where the gold has run out and the population has drifted on, hoping to chance on the next lucrative spot.
A few hardy souls remain amid the faded grandeur; tourists can take a steam train or photograph the statue of a JCB that dominates the town square. That's if a statue of a JCB dominating a town square is your thing.
You might prefer the thrill of Hollybank Treetops Adventure, a centre 15 minutes from the airport where you'll be hooked up to a zip wire that runs along the tops of trees, enabling you to fly almost 30m above the ground. The centre has been up and running only since Christmas, and in time it should develop more attractions. Even as it stands, though, it's an exhilarating way to investigate the landscape - which, with its fauna, is Tasmania's main attraction: a third of the island is designated a World Heritage site.
At one point in our visit we take a long mountain walk. Our guide, Matt, who is studying for a PhD in botany, is a like a cross between Diarmuid Gavin and Bush Tucker Man. As we admire the breathtaking scenery he pauses to point out lemon-scented heather or to recommend that we stuff our mouths with wild berries. Tasmanian nature trails are well made, with boardwalks to ensure minimum impact on the landscape, and regular signposts give distances and estimated times for each trail.
Wombats and possums are a dime a dozen here, especially in the World Heritage areas, such as Cradle Mountain. The Tasmanian devil is battling for survival, however. The reason is a cancer, transmitted by inbreeding, that has obliterated half the population in the past 11 years. Such is the threat that, without remedial action, the marsupial ( a pouched mammal like a kangaroo) could disappear from Tasmania within 15 years.
Close to Cradle Mountain, a conservation programme aims to protect the species in captivity, as an insurance policy against total extinction.
Locals say the critters will bite through bone at the slightest provocation. Conservation staff disagree.
"You're more likely to get bitten by a wombat," says one of them, who puts a young devil on her shoulder to illustrate her point. The seemingly placid creature clings to her, not enamoured of the attention but not resistant to it, either. She invites us to stroke it. I consider it for a moment but pull my hand away at the last moment. Some stereotypes, it seems, are more stubborn than others.
The essentials: where to stay, where to eat, what to do
Where to stay
Part of Tasmania's charm is that coastal development is subject to stringent controls, so accommodation is often of the low-impact variety. Boutique hotels are also increasingly popular all over the island.
The Lodge at Tarraleah (www.tarraleahlodge.com) has been nominated as one of the world's top 101 hotels.
Nearer the sea, Strahan Village (www.strahanvillage. com.au) has stunning panoramic views, and it is within a stone's throw of Macquarie Harbour. The normally deserted Great Ocean beach, less than five kilometres away, is perfect for an evening stroll.
Further inland, Cradle Mountain Chateau (www.cradle mountainchateau.com.au) is a comfortable, modern facility close to the picturesque Dove Lake.
Where to eat
The Lodge at Tarraleah (see above) also comes out tops on the food front. The team uses mostly local produce, such as smoked-to-order trout, local beef and sumptuous Tasmanian scallops. The restaurant is also famed for its cellar, with more than 300 wines available, all displayed behind large glass doors off the main dining room.
Marque IV (www.marqueiv. com.au), on Elizabeth Street Pier in Hobart, is not cheap - four courses come in at well over €100 a person - but the emphasis is again on local, with seafood a speciality.
For lunch, Cradle Mountain Lodge (www.cradlemountain lodge.com.au) does simple food well. The Henry Jones Art Hotel (www.thehenryjones. com) does a good breakfast.
Not so hot was dinner at View 42°, a restaurant at Strahan Village. The buffet-style set-up felt closer to a school canteen than I would have liked.
Where to go
Lots to choose from here, from high-adrenalin speedboat adventures to slower-paced river cruises.
Gordon River cruises, from Strahan Village, are six-hour affairs that take in some of the sights of Macquarie Harbour, including the notorious Hell's Gates passage. The boats stop at Sarah's Island, a 19th-century penal site, where enthusiastic guides dramatise accounts of life on the island.
If penal servitude is your thing, then the historic Port Arthur is a must. Allow plenty of time to roam about the extensive remains or browse the interactive museum.
Go there
Brian O'Connell travelled as a guest of Tourism Australia (www.australia. com). He flew with Qantas (www.qantas. com.au) airline which has four services a day to Australia from London Heathrow and one a day from Frankfurt. A connecting Aer Lingus flight from Cork or Dublin is included in the fare. Flights from Dublin to Tasmania via Melbourne start at €1,355 return, including taxes, for departures between April 16th and June 15th.