One Day of Adventure in Hobart
7:30am — You wake up and perform your usual morning routine and get ready for the day ahead. You make your way towards North Hobart, where a little cafe exists on Elizabeth Street named Room for a Pony.
You wonder to yourself; what is the nomenclature behind this establishment? There is certainly room to fit a pony in here. Arguably perhaps, doing some mental arithmetic, there is probably volume to have around 43 of these animals fit comfortably inside this venue.
The first sip of coffee hits your body, caffeine permeating through the veins. You complement it with ordering Ricotta Hotcakes, a noble attempt at trying to satisfy your misguided morning hunger. It’s incredibly tasty. It’s just that you can’t finish it.
9:00am — Satisfied, you walk to explore the central part of town in the hope of burning off some of that sugar. You stumble across this colourful shop named Red Parka.
It is a beautiful art-shop filled with wonderful artistic wares and gifts. And lots of animals from the talented Jennifer Skelly.
So you buy a few illustrative things that catch your eye.
And then you have your second coffee at the cafe next door called Ecru. You take some ridiculous flat-lay knoll photograph of these items on a wooden surface.
You walk around for a bit and spot some pretty amazing graffiti nearby.
Two hits of caffeine down and its time to take a drive towards the Museum of Old and New Art (also known as MONA).
10:30am — A rooster greets you at the car park. “Welcome to the museum” he says. It’s possible this part may not have actually happened.
David Walsh, the owner of MONA drives a Tesla and presumably refers to himself as God. See below.
It’s your second time here, but to describe it to those who have never been before, it’s a museum built into the cliffside in Berriedale, 20 minutes north of Hobart. The views back towards the city of Hobart and south are often framed by the clouds and the way they cast hard shadows on the hills, yet reveal luminescent pockets of brilliance too.
Here’s a close up of the cliffside inside the Museum.
It’s near the water, and makes you feel like you’re in a canyon and void rather than an art gallery.
You walk through the galleries, observing all manners of art installation, like this plant suspended in a plastic bag from rope.
You venture forth into a library where the books have no names, and the white spines speak of stories yet to be written.
You exit the library and then venture into more darkness. You turn corners again and again, with light shimmering around the edges. Then things start to reveal themselves.
Numbers emerge on the walls: binary code appearing as if it were talking to you, although the words itself are not easily deciphered.
Then a chorus of voices sing a song to you through some old CRT monitors, which your SLR produces a blurred effect.
And then some threads lead you to a map. Or does the map produce the threads?
12:15pm — You leave the gallery, omitting a few dozen photos of other artworks you’ve snapped from your treks. You walk outside to the cafe and order your third coffee of the day while you stare out over the water where the Derwent River slowly approaches the sea.
1:30pm — You drive back to Hobart and to historic Battery Point. It’s a sleepy little suburb near Salamanca with a beautiful weatherboard, cottage feel to its houses.
You buy a savoury danish from a local bakery that is just wonderful to eat from Jackman and McRoss bakery.
2:30pm — Then you meet newlyweds for lunch at a place called Pigeonhole Cafe in West Hobart. And you order your fourth coffee of the day and some soft boiled eggs and mushroom ragu.
Incredulously, you (the reader) think, ‘what the heck — does all this person do is eat and drink coffee?’
4:00pm — You finish lunch and drive up Mount Wellington to see the view of Hobart from below. And boy is it beautiful.
At this time of day, the clouds provide cover for the sun, rays of light are like torches that kiss the land. How can this much beauty exist you wonder?
Perhaps you don’t really need to know. You just need to look at it and what’s before you and let your body and heart glow.
You go back down the mountain and say goodbye to the newlyweds who are off to enjoy the first part of their mini honeymoon.
You drive back to your hotel to rest for an hour or so. You say to yourself, “the day is not over.”
7:30pm — It’s time to find dinner and you stumble down an alleyway to a burger joint known as the Standard.
It channels American (80’s style) very effectively with its neon menu and its aesthetic (though blended very much with modern exposed brick, timber and plants)
Your food is served.
It’s delicious and a nice change from the fish and seafood you’ve been having so much of in Tasmania.
It’s a great animated movie, and what’s remarkable is that you’re the only person in the theatre.
10:40pm — The movie finishes and though you are sleepy, you believe it’s a good idea to find a place that sells a pie at this time. So you drive to Salamanca and find the 24 hour bakehouse.
And you eat this:
11:10pm — The day is over. You have had a long one filled with activity, art, nature and a lot of coffee. The caffeine isn’t really much of an issue at all at making you stay awake. (You have been told and observed from others that you can sleep anywhere.)
Your head is on the pillow. You float into the dreamlands.