As we drove off the ferry early next morning it started to drizzle, which is just as well as Tasmania is looking tinder dry up here in the north.
We camped on the scenic river bank at the Longford River Campsite but as we pulled our doonahs up (in February, would you believe?) and put our ears deep under the covers it became terribly windy outside the camper.
Pete was awake half the night convinced we were about to be blown away. I was awake, ignoring him. Bec was asleep, snoring.
As we drove into Launceston next morning the car suddenly stalled at traffic lights in the centre of town. Decided to go nowhere. Little puffs of smoke slithered out from under the bonnet.
We ended up being towed to the side of the road to avoid backing up traffic at the lights. Thank you, stranger! Then our camper was trucked to an auto-electrician's just a few blocks from where we'd stopped. Thank you, RACQ!
In his panic the night before Pete mis-plugged the Anderson plug. That little error burned out the entire electrical cable system in the car. Luckily, the auto-electricians had time to replace the cabling that day, finishing it up about dinnertime. Costing Pete just pennies short of eight hundred dollars.
Then, at lunchtime, he managed to drop his brand new camera, smashed the UV filter attachment.
Not one of his better days, so far.
Still, we had fun roaming Launceston streets checking out historic little shops like this mid-Victorian Umbrella Shop which still has its original fixtures and fittings and where we were entertained by a delightful lady volunteer, nearly as ancient as the shop itself, telling us tales of what it was like here way back when.
We were quite captivated by the Post Office building. As we turned corners in Launceston city streets we were often drawn to its unusual brickwork and in-your-face architecture. We then discovered that at the time it was built the locals really hated it: calling the pattern, colouring and design the "grossest insult to the people of Launceston".
This debacle was quickly topped off by another: as amidst all the kerfuffle and negative press, the post office tower ended up being constructed without its clock being included. Only in 1910 was a clock finally added. The tower which holds it projects imposingly over the cityscape.
From here we visited Grindewald, a tourist attraction and resort, just a hop step and jump from the city. This was the vision of a Dutchman who set up a milk bar in downtown Launceston in the early 1950's when he migrated to Australia. Over time, he built a chain of self service supermarkets over much of Tasmania, the eponymous Roelf Vos stores, employing many Tasmanians, and becoming very wealthy. After selling out to Woolworths some thirty years later, he built Grindewald, along the lines of a Swiss Village Resort. When we were there is was quiet, thematically robust and charming. We could see how beautifully located it was -- to sailing, golf, and the city -- if one wished to check in and enjoy the surrounding facilities.
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