The scenic route to Port Arthur.

We woke to the sounds of the waves crashing on the beach - that and the kids tearing around the house. Today's destination was the Tasman Peninsular, and specifically Port Arthur Historic Site. We plugged in the destination, and our chipper GPS lady led the way. The day full of promise, we complied with her suggestion of taking a short-cut from Buckland through Nugent to get to Copping (instead of going through Sorell). With our history of femme fatale navigation devices, we really should have thought this through a little more. Within a kilometer, the sealed road disappeared and was replaced by a gravel road - last graded in the early 1900s. To call it a forestry road would be an insult to forestry roads. At one point I swear we drove through some farmers backyard (between his clothesline and tractor shed). We dodged wallabies, pheasants, cows and one particularly stupid pigeon. After around 50 kilometers of juddering corrugation, we rejoined the sealed road - our Mazda caked in road dust, and Jenny's hands cramping from clenching them since Buckland.

We called into the township of Eaglehawk Neck, and took a gander at the Tessellated Pavement at one end of Pirate's Bay. Alas, there was not a Jolly Roger to be seen offshore.

Tessellated rock formation.

There was some seriously shonky DIY happening at the Officer's Quarters (one door had a diagonal section removed from its top to allow for a snug fit after half the place subsided) at one end of The Neck itself - yes, another Isthmus. During the days of convicts being sent to Port Arthur, this 100m wide strip of land was guarded by a chained line of some fairly cranky dogs. Somewhat predictably, this was known as The Dogline. They also managed to convince the prisoners that the waters to either side of the dog line were infested with sharks. The black swans gliding gracefully across the water on the western side mustn't have gotten that particular memo.

The kids are clearly terrified.

After some road works and some morning tea (irritating and delicious respectively) we arrived at the Port Arthur Historic Site. To get in, we were required to book in for a walking tour and boat cruise we had no intention of going on - but we did get to borrow some fancy lanyards. The memorial for the Broad Arrow Cafe was a jarringly sombre experience - although very respectfully set out, and we moved on after a period of reflection.

Finally.

At one end of the grounds was the Commandant's House along with his extensively-fertilised gardens. The mounds of blood and bone positively reeked. The stench fully permeated the entire building, which had, interestingly, been extended on a number of occasions.

Hospital.

We spent a good amount of time at a number of ruins, before heading over to The Separate Prison (constructed in 1849). This was a new way to reform punish - locking away convicts for 23 hours a day, individual exercise allotments, and absolutely no communication between prisoners. If you somehow misbehaved in this place of solitary confinement, there was the Punishment Cell awaiting you. At one end of a solitary exercise yard, was a thick iron door with a few ventilation holes at the bottom. Another 3 of these and an S-shaped corridor led you to the darkest stone room you would ever want to be in. Certainly no light, and likely no sound would ever reach you from the outside. People would spend weeks in there.

A flash helps. The first of 4 doors sealing
this room off from the outside world.

The Port Arthur Church

On our way back from Port Arthur, we briefly called in to DooTown, where locals (for reasons unknown) have given their teeny cottages names with 'Doo' in the title. Stand-outs include: Doo Me, We Doo, and Dr Doo Little. A very cute, yet remote part of the world.

We picked up some groceries at Sorell, before heading back to Orford. Along the way, we watched with fascination as a lady attempted to push/bully along a dump-truck with her small to mid-size sedan. Her rage was palpable, even from our vantage point behind her. Fortunately, the truck pulled over, and she was saved from either a seizure or ending up going underneath the truck altogether.

The kids were desperate to head down to the beach at the back of our beach house upon our return, so we wandered down despite the falling temperatures. I noticed a couple of rabbits chasing each other in the sand-dunes, and from the relative abundance of the critters am assuming that they catch each other occasionally . We cooked a couple of snags on the barbeque, and Jen commenced planning our itinerary for Maria Island in the morning. The Weather App is promising sun - clearly I shan't be asking GPS lady for her opinion any time soon.