Toyota Prius

On a recent holiday to Melbourne we hired a car to run around in. When my brother-in-law went to pick it up they couldn’t find the car we’d reserved. After they’d fucked him around for an hour he was rewarded with an upgrade. The fact that Avis had given our pre-booked and pre-paid-for car to someone else will come back to bite them a bit later.

We ended up with a black Toyota Prius, an electric/petrol hybrid. None of us had ever experienced one of these before so the novelty value soothed our irritation a little. Some of us were less soothed than others. You just have to let it go or you’ll get an ulcer.

As first impressions go, from the outside the Prius appears to be a small car. Inside is roomy and comfortable, accommodating three adults and their luggage without complaint. The dash is quite plain with a LCD screen dominating the centre. It is a touch screen with fairly intuitive controls that run most of the cars functions like the radio, a/c, trip distance/economy and a few other dinky functions. The warp speed button was broken.

The stubby little gear shift is a bit close to the steering wheel for my tastes but its drive-by-wire operation ensures you can’t slam it into reverse while cruising at 100kph. Starting the car for the first time using its push button ignition was moderately frustrating. Couldn’t get the bastard to go. We tracked the problem to the plastic lump, (that’s the key?), being in upside down! This is a fairly bad design flaw as the car still wakes up and displays that it’s ready to go but won’t select a gear. Quite frustrating really. Wouldn’t it have been fairly simple to make the key either double sided or only fit in the socket one way, huh Toyota? I have since found out the key doesn’t even need to be fitted into the dash; the car will recognise its presence even if you leave it in your pocket.

There are no gears, (look it up if you want to know how the hell that works), so acceleration is unmarked by any hesitations. It pulls quite strongly and keeps up with traffic even if it revs its ring out under very heavy acceleration. Overtaking required the throttle to hit the floor at times. I disliked having nothing in reserve and found myself desiring a little more in the go department. I did manage to briefly achieve 160 kph while overtaking freeway clogging morons. (Excessive speeds were for comparative reasons only.) I could feel a certain amount of feedback/resistance when cruising gently as the battery and petrol engine cut in and out. You have to extend your feelers to be aware of the transition.

Over a several hundred kilometres we averaged about 5litres/ 100 kilometres. It is advertised as getting 4.4litres/ 100 kilometres. I think that would be achievable once you got used to driving like a granny. The mileage came down when I stopped thrashing it and began operating more efficiently. The battery-only function was a short lived experiment. There are so many interlocks that automatically switch it back to normal hybrid operation it became a pain to keep resetting it. I think the computer would prefer the driver didn’t keep on pressing all the buttons leaving it the hell alone to do its job. Using battery-only very quickly drains the charge too. It can actually make the economy worse as the engine has to pull double duty to recharge and propel the car at the same time. It would be a handy device to have if you needed to sneak away from your girlfriend’s home at 3am when her husband/boyfriend/father got home unexpectedly. A cantankerous V8 is notorious for stalling at times like these.

When we gave the Prius back at the airport Avis got all confused. It seems we weren’t supposed to have it. We already knew that you bloody weirdos. They’d really stuffed up their records and had upset numerous other people by giving that car to us. The knock on effect had played havoc with their computers and other customers down the line. Least it wasn’t us getting upset for once, although we did have to stand there while they sorted it. With any luck we might get out of paying the toll road fees

(Like it? See - The boss' perception)

Tasmanian relief - PART 7

(Return to - PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6)

Burnie. Our first taste of disappointment. Had to happen somewhere I guess. Quickly went through the cheesery and distillery. They were absolutely worth missing completely. Highly recommended by someone at Jules work. First bum steer we’d come across. At least they didn’t get to sting us with an entry fee first. To top things off the info bureau sent us to Wynyard Waterfront Motel for the night. It was crap. Don't stay here. I've stayed in better rooms at some of the mines I've been too. Over $100 a night too. Ripped off. We finally found a place that sold "turned wood items", (available everywhere), for reasonable prices so all was not lost.

Annsliegh gardens, 4 acres of landscaped gardens. Beautiful place. We spent a few hours here. Gets a tick.

Spent an hour in Devonport having lunch and looking for a bank. Didn't see much and didn’t enjoy it. Too much traffic and too many people after so much wilderness.

Latrobe, home of The Axemans Hall of Fame. Bit of a rip off. They promise platypus and deliver stuffed ones. Very disappointed in that. Good history of wood chopping but we felt they misrepresented themselves. The bloke at the tourist-fleecing counter put us onto the next place though, and managed to redeem himself.

Reliquaire. http://www.reliquaire.com/. What an experience. You could easily miss this unassuming shop front and you’d be that much the poorer for it. Actually we were quite a bit poorer for having found it but only monetarily. We were greeted at the door and offered fudge and a map. Yes this place needed the map. It was jam packed with thousands of unusual and very unique toys, dolls, furniture, lead lights, games, books, sculptures, masks, clothes, jokes jewellery. Stuff that you only ever see in exotic catalogues. I can’t fully list what this place contains. I’d hate to do a stock take. They had bought up the shops around them and kept on expanding. Walking from room to room had constant surprises and different themes. It was like being transported to the twilight zone. Absolutely unmissable in my opinion. If your kids are clumsy don’t take them in or you'll end up owing thousands. You could barely move without knocking down a thousand dollar ceramic facemask or some other expensive item. They have a web site that doesn’t do it justice. Look it up to get an idea though. I'm not exaggerating.

Ashgrove Cheese Factory. Ate a lot of free cheese here. We bought a lot too, as well as chocolates again, (supposedly for gifts this time).

Pearns Steam World. A must see for anyone who loves old, steam-powered machinery. Very well displayed and looked after. I'm really glad there are still people who give up so much of their time to preserve what could so easily be forgotten, to rust away unnoticed. Really good value. A lot of the steam engines still worked and were ready to go.

Launceston. Didn't see much here. Got in late. Booked a hotel and walked around for half an hour. Stayed at the Mercure. The rooms weren't air-conditioned and the windows wouldn't open far in case you decided to dive out. I wanted to, it was so hot.

We had to travel back to Hobart on our last day very fast. I told everyone we weren't stopping for anything, figuring we needed to keep a bit ahead of schedule in case of a flat tyre etc. So we immediately had to stop at Ross to look at another old bridge. The lead lights in the nearby church were worth a look too.

Jules decided it would be quicker to go from Oatlands to Richmond the back way. So we got off the nice smooth 110-kph highway and took a majorly hilly, run down old B-road, Targa style. Used a lot of fuel on that bit too.

Had to go past the airport so the ladies could check our 30 million dollar lottery tickets. We both won, coming out $1 ahead of the ticket purchase price. That's the only reason we got on the plane and came back to Brisbane economy class.

Managed to finally catch up with my brother Dennis and Carla and their new addition, Thomas, in Brisbane. I can report that Thomas has taken over the entire house. His camera recognition and reaction time is spot on. Got some great shots to send to Granny and Grandpa.

Tried to fly out the next day and surprise, surprise the flight was delayed. We got home hours later than scheduled, couldn't get a taxi after waiting 45mins, then, when we finally got home, the tree was still lying in the yard. Combined I can thankfully count this as No. 3. Now at least I wont be waiting for it. I think the good outweighed the bad in hindsight. Still, some good luck wouldn’t go astray.

(Like it? See - Underground Mining).

Tasmanian relief - PART 6

(Return to - PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5)

The next day we had to get up early for the Gordon River Cruise. Getting up early on one's holiday is so wrong but we managed. We were shown to our comfy leather seats, on the Captains Deck no less, by the attractive hostess. Once more we paid for premium class and we were not disappointed. The customary champagne was dealt with in the customary way, and beer and food consumption commenced. They hadn’t even started the motors yet!

Twin V8 turbo diesels, 1500 HP each, got us moving out to sea. Yeah baby, beer and V8’s. Our Captain was full of excellent stories and he knew how to tell them. He also liked to set the cruise-control and wander around the cabin having a chat. (Obviously this party trick freaked out a few people who seemed to think he should be guiding the boat.) I hovered around the controls but refrained from touching them, although it wasn't easy. All that marvellous power and we were just toddling along. Sacrilege.

I can’t stress enough how good this trip is. Really, really, good. I’m saying this a lot but you must include this on your list of holiday destinations.

Zeehan museum. World-class. Leave enough time, (2-3 hours or more), to enjoy this place properly. Absolutely huge and jam-packed with Aussie-British history.

Hopefully by now you’ll see where the time goes. I don’t believe we would have done ourselves any favours by rushing through any part of Tasmania. I also know we missed a lot.

Cradle Mountain. Ah yes. The ‘get back to nature walks’ that I love so much. Quite a few damn tourists overcrowding the car-park made it hard for us to barge our way in, but we weren’t discouraged. We lucked out on the two-hour "easy" Dove Lake walk. Most people didn't want to do this one. Jules and I did it in 1 hour 45 mins. Just about had to run to achieve this time but we had a tight schedule. The temperature would have been around 10 degrees C but I was down to my singlet about halfway through the 'walk'. We tried to tell a bunch of people, kitted out in arctic weather gear, to leave their jackets behind. Perhaps the sight of my sweaty, fat body didn’t convince them, or maybe they didn’t speak English. Hope they enjoyed carrying all their kids’ jackets around the lake.

Sheffield is a town of murals. Some gifted artists were apparent amongst the many over-sized pictures on every blank wall in town. Yet another good motel with friendly, helpful owners made our stay pleasant.

Tasmazia in the Village of Lower Crackpot is a little gem of a place. It has the world’s largest hedge maze. Seeing it for yourself will convince you that it was worthwhile hunting it down. If any place can make a couple of thirty-something's act like 5 year olds, then this is it. Nita and Eric enjoyed it too but I didn't see them crawling through a 'Secret Tunnel'. My knees are still wondering why they had to carry my lard through it too.

(See - Tasmanian relief - PART 7)

Tasmanian relief - PART 5

(Return to - PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4)

The next day we stopped at the Donaghys Hill walk to see the Frenchman’s Cap. If you skip any of the other walks, make sure you do this one. Don't always believe the time estimates to complete these walks or judgments of difficulty levels on the signposts; they seem to be random. Quite a strenuous walk but well worth it for the view. Money back guarantee.

Nelson Falls. Very nice. I loved it. Excellent walk through the forest to get to it too.

Queenstown. Looking down into this town from the lookout before attempting the fearsome switch backed curves before us showed what a blasted ruin our descendants had made of the environment way back in the early 1900’s. Mother Nature is still struggling to recover from the waste and pollution the huge copper smelters churned out. The area has been continuously mined for over 100 years. We were told the steep descent into make people car I just cut all the corners for the comfort of my passengers and no one got sick or killed so no problem for our troop.

We'd booked a couple of tours around Strahan and made it our base for a couple of days. We stayed at Aldermere Estate. It was quite expensive but delivered the goods. The whole top floor was a second bedroom with en suite so it was perfect for two couples.

The next day we went on the West Coast Wilderness Railway. The extra money we paid for premier class immediately got us a glass of champagne on arrival. I don't approve of drinking vinegar that early in the morning so I threw it down to be polite and refused seconds. Besides, when beer is unlimited and included in the price of admission, what are you going to do? Eric and I started to lighten the rear wagon. Be warned, there’s no toilet on this trip until the next station.

This trip could be described as one of those once in a lifetime experiences that you should try to fit in. The construction of the railway is an astounding tale. They used no explosives so cuttings were dug to very fine tolerances. We squeezed through each one with nothing to spare. Warnings about swift removal of stuck out heads and limbs were taken literally. It rained all the way but had no bearing on our situation. Our first class wagon was well catered for with blankets, pillows, too much very good food and endless beverages. I think they served water and soft drinks although not much of that was getting about.

I did spare a moment to think about the deprived people in coach class. They had to brave the freezing wind and rain in their unheated wagons with permanently open windows. Their seating consisted of lovely period-faithful wooden slat seats. That's what you get when you’ve got kids and can’t afford to upgrade.

By the way, you know how old people are always going on about how young people are so annoying? You do? Well our wagon was filled predominantly with the older vintage person and they seemed to be having a really good time. There’s nothing wrong with this but I think they were half cut before we even got moving. I'm sure Nita and Eric won’t behave like that when they get old.

We had to swap locomotives halfway through the trip. An ABT System Locomotive is required to climb the steep grade ahead. The ABT System is a set of gears slung underneath the loco that meshes with a rack bolted along the middle of the track. It was really steep going so Eric and I redoubled our beer consumption to lighten the load even more. Jules helped a bit Nita concentrated on cleaning out the dining car. That poor loco powered on gamely until a tree fell on the track in front of us causing a sudden stop. (I didn't spill my beer so three cheers for the engineer.). With a bit of light-hearted vocal encouragement from the passengers, the fireman drew the short straw and got out with a chainsaw to cut it away.

The trip had to come to an end eventually and we get a bus ride from hell back to Strahan from Queenstown to sober us up. It must have been a wild ride down the mountain but I fell asleep, with a few of the other old people, and missed it. We were just plain tuckered out from all the excitement.

(Like it? See - Tasmanian relief - PART 6).

Tasmanian relief - PART 4

(Return to - PART 1, PART 2, PART 3)

The next day we had to have chocolate. We had to go straight there and only just made it to the Cadburys factory before Jules and Nita burst with excitement. Predictable chocolate gorging ensued. I only had one so I wouldn’t look out of place. Oh yeah, and those Furry Friends bars that Eric brought over for me. After the tour, and the excruciating embarrassment we suffered by wearing the obligatory shower caps, some of us went to the Cadbury shop and bought a lot of chocolate bar seconds. When queried about the need for quite so much chocolate the dubious logic was, it’s half price and, it won’t melt in the boot in this weather.

We stopped at the Alpenrail Swiss model railway exhibit on the way back to Hobart. It’s an impressive display of model railway excess to a Swiss theme. Personally I'd be a bit concerned to look back after 20 years and see that's all I had to show for it. But that's just me. He’s made a lot of people happy so good on him.

In retaliation for the chocolate binge I made everyone go to Joes Garage, a small, iconic pub in the middle of Hobart. Fortunately, the early afternoon crowd hadn’t started and any self-respecting bikie was still in bed so we had the place to ourselves. I've seen Joes Garage on a few TV shows and it had looked awesome then. Everything looks better on TV. If we’d had a few beers it might have been better but we were keen to get on our way.

Richmond has a really old bridge. That’s it. Glad we came. Thankfully my wife made us have a drink at the pub. She needed to use the toilet and felt it rude to use their facilities without payment. Eric and I weren’t arguing. Finally we were drinking beer. Nita was buying Teddy bears at the Teddy Bear shop across the road so everyone was happy.

New Norfolk. We stayed at an old place called Rosies Inn. Originally a boarding house it had been converted into a very upper class B and B. It was a bit like staying with your Great Grandmother. Everything, and I mean everything,was embroidered with roses. New Norfolk is also home to Australia's oldest church.

The drive through Mt Field National Park will allow you the opportunity of many different walks. One features Russell Falls as a highlight and we’d already picked that one out as a “wanna see”. The Pademelons, (small wallaby looking things), were everywhere through the forest. They were very tame and camera friendly. The tranquillity of being amongst the trees caused my inner stress monster to take a rare break. I could really live in such a place permanently.

Hamilton. We had lunch at Clyde's house. I ate far too much of their excellent food as usual. They have a very nice formal garden out the back that we explored. On the road again we stopped at a few scenic lookouts. There’s no shortage of lookouts in this mountainous terrain.

Just before Derwent Bridge we found The Wall in the Wilderness. I t belongs to Greg Duncan, a self-taught artist, who is carving a massive 3 metre high frieze that will extend 100 metres in length when finished. His natural skill and artistry is truly awe-inspiring. The many carved Australian native animal pieces exhibited around the foyer are life sized and detailed to the tiniest feature. The work is still in progress so we were able to see how he approached the job and saw different levels of completion. The finished panels are incredible. The life-sized men depicted were detailed down to the veins and tendons in their hands. We were wondering when he’d be finished and estimate of another 10 years was a bit long to wait around for. It is exceptionally well presented and well worth the entry fee.

I almost didn’t go in, and even had a bit of a bitch about having to pay to get into every damn place we stopped at. I would have missed a really worthwhile bit of history in the making. You get your moneys worth here.

We decided Derwent Bridge would be our stop for the night and soon discovered that booking ahead would have been prudent. The popular pub had already been fully booked. The continued excellent occupancy rate into the low season even surprises the owners.

Luckily a few top quality cabins at the Derwent Bridge Chalets and Studios were still available at very reasonable prices. The 3 and a half star rating had been taken to its very upper limit with the comfort of their guests given the highest priority. The friendly owners had the fire already going too, which was a nice touch, as the temperature dropped quickly with the setting sun. A raging ice-cold river about 50 metres from the door made a nice backdrop as we sipped a cold beer near the fire. We highly recommend it. We also found its placement ideal to break our trip to Strahan into manageable pieces.

(See - Tasmanian relief - PART 5)

Tasmanian relief - PART 3

(Return to - PART 1, PART2)

The next day we discovered our screw up that had been haunting me. We forgot the address book. By an absolute freak of luck I had one phone number in my new phone that got us the addresses we needed. Armed with the right information I managed to catch up with my sister. She has lived in Hobart for a few years and took some time out to show us a few points of interest, like the famous Salamanca markets. Unfortunately they’d been on the day before but we never did like crowds and the shops in the area we ample for our needs.

Hobart’s botanical garden is excellent. It’s a credit to the people who maintain it. Tulips were in bloom by the thousands and the displays were spectacular. We also got to see the plot where Peter Cundall’s does some of his Gardening Australia show. I’d always been curious about the huge, convict built walls behind his veggie garden, and I finally satisfied that urge. They are even more impressive close up.

The next day we drove south to the Tahune forest air walk. I can highly recommend it. Forestry Tasmania has made a huge effort to integrate the structure with the forest. We came back to Hobart the long way round through Huonville and Cygnet, then we zipped across through Oyster Cove and up to tick the Shot Tower off our ‘wanna see’ list. It’s a worthwhile stop. You should make the effort to climb it for the view and to say you’ve done it.

So far, the sense of history everywhere we go is a little but overwhelming. The sheer age and level of preservation of so many structures cant be compared to anywhere we’ve visited on the mainland.

The day was running out. We could easily have spent two days in the area but we had packed in enough sights to feel satisfied and were getting tired. The nice warm fireplace of our cottage beckoned.

(See - Tasmanian relief - PART 4)

Tasmanian relief - PART 2

(See Tasmanian relief - Part 1)

We landed in Hobart without incident. Being one of the first people at the baggage claim left us with the maximum time to impatiently wait for our bags. Our impatience soon turned to concern when the conveyor shut down and we continued to be bagless. Eric and Nita got their bags, and were looking a bit guilty too. (At the very least one of their bags should have torn open with jocks and socks strewn around the conveyor. Lucky for them, their Karma must be in the black.) We swiftly tackled the last employee in the terminal who could be seen hurrying away from the confrontation bearing down on her. Her answer to our plight? We might see our bags today or tomorrow sometime. Yeah, real bloody handy, I’m sure she wont have to wear the same clothes for two days straight. I have a feeling, from this encounter, that airlines losing bags is so common that the staff cant even dredge up a bit of pretend sympathy.(This qualifies as No. 2)

We weren’t about to dwell on our misfortune so we headed over to pick up the hire car. Remarkably our reservation hadn't been stuffed up. (Must be suffering from a bit of paranoia, waiting for No.3 to hit.) We got a V6 Commodore Omega. 1 year old, 50,000 kilometres on the clock and looking like it had been washed by a kindergarten class using sand and Brillo pads. The cartoon on the hiring agreement shows no scratches or marks. I don’t like discrepancies so I wheeled the reluctant attendant over and start listing all the marks. He soon gets wise to this and writes, wear and tear every panel, on the cartoon to get rid of me. This is really good as I can practically roll the bugger now and still give it back with wide-eyed innocence and no liability. (Don't forget somebody has probably paid for some of those scratches 10 times over. Its a rort, don't get caught out.)


We stayed at a Joseph’s cottage in Hobart for the first two nights. Originally an 1840’s workers cottage with modern facilities installed. Good value, comfortable and close to everything. Very friendly owners will make your stay very pleasant.


For some reason, we left the warmth and comfort of the house and went for a drive up Mt Wellington to freeze our butts off. A little bit of snow still lay around at the top; the first real snow Nita had ever seen. She probably thinks it’s overrated now. Looking at freezing slush while huddling against a rock from the life-sapping, gale force wind, isn’t that great, is it Nita? The mountaintop recorded 138 Kph winds the day after we were there. Wish we’d been there for that. I'd estimate the winds for us were only about 80-90 Kph. That’s what my slitted, shivering eyeballs, and my inability to remain standing tells me. I must admit loved it. I have a perverse love of foul weather and being cold in particular. Jules felt she could have used a jacket, but all our clothes were still on their mystery flight. Remember that? We hadn’t forgotten. I had a T-Shirt and Jeans. Jules wore a nice summery blouse, with big openings that the freezing wind rushed into, filling it like a balloon. HAHAHAHA. Bet she froze, I know I did. To her credit she didn’t complain much. I almost forgot about the view. It was worth the discomfort; don’t miss it.

As we drove around Hobart, I soon realised how much I missed V8 torque from our car back at home. Holden had shot most of the horses that should be pulling this basement model hire car. Needless to say, it struggled to perform to my expectations with four adults, all our luggage and hills you'd swear went straight up to contend with. Full throttle overtaking is exhilarating with a real motor; this thing just made a more noise and went at the same pace. I only managed to get it up to 140 Kph on a nice long stretch before Nita twigged that I was speeding. Engine vibrations through the whole car caught me out. (I remember getting up to at least 180 in a high performance V8 before receiving a slap from Jules in the past.)

Our luggage arrived at 11:30PM that night so all was not lost. The airport gorilla had half wrenched the handle off one bag, but we were so happy to be able to change and shower we didn't care.

(See - Tasmanian relief - PART 3)

Tasmanian relief - PART 1

You know when you get to the stage of working so much to afford the things you want, that you no longer have time to enjoy any of them? You begin to wonder, what is the point? My wife, a woman who can spot the subtleties of my pointlessness levels, usually coincides a getaway before clinical depression kicks in. Her parents, Nita and Eric, had already planned on visiting Tasmania, so we decided to tag along. What’s that? Why would anyone want to go on a trip with his or her in-laws on purpose? Well I don’t seem to have the same problem as ninety per cent of the population. We get along just fine.

The wife had left this particular trip a little late as my level of pointlessness had scared away my sense of humour again. Sick of trying to overcome work pressures and an overwhelming flood of pessimism, my humour packed its gear and left. Last time this happened I had to go to Vanuatu to find it. I hope it catches up with my sense of monetary control. That disappeared in the middle of the Monaro engine rebuild a few months ago and I need it back.

I finished hating my job on Friday afternoon when the contract ended. We were departing Saturday, leaving minimal time to pack, or examine our travel options. A storm blew up a few hours later while we were packing. A loud cracking sound, and a crash that turned my guts to ice, heralded a large tree falling onto the roof of the house. (I didn't know it at the time but this is now known as No. 1). I went outside, into the raging storm, to survey the damage. The tree had squashed the fence on the way through and now rested comfortably on the laundry. I went back inside before my rum got too watered down. Nothing else could go wrong so why worry about it?

The storm must have spiked the power after we went to bed so the alarm didn’t go off the next morning. By the time we realised and got up, we had 15 minutes to get ready before the taxi arrived. I need at least an hour. The ensuing mad rush guaranteed a pervading feeling that something important has been forgotten would dominate my mind. Remembering the crucial item can only occur when a person no longer has the option of returning for it. I knew this rule well.

We pushed past the fallen tree, ignoring it as best we could. The taxi got us to the airport on time and the plane didn't crash. We met up with Nita and Eric at the Brisbane airport without me strangling any of the young adults having an overly good time in front of us. The kid that usually kicks the back of my seat the entire flight must have been unavailable so the airline got in a group of excitable teens to irritate me instead.

(See - Tasmanian relief - PART 2)