The highs, lows and lessons learned from our first family road trip. Photo / anja on Unsplash
The highs, lows and lessons learned from our first family road trip. Photo / anja on Unsplash
Navigating the car sickness and constant “are we there yet” questioning is all part of an inaugural family road trip, as Janet Stone finds out in Tasmania
We had been living in Australia for two years after moving from the UK (returning after 16 years for my Aussie husband andimmigrating for me) when we tentatively planned our first road trip to Tasmania’s South East coast with our 7 and 5-year-old.
Despite our kids not being fans of car journeys longer than 20 minutes, we were inspired by stories from the school gates of families caravanning around Australia for months or driving for eight hours for a weekend away. I excitedly started planning our route - seven days, broken down into two overnight stops, starting and finishing in Hobart. It would be a breeze.
We arrive late afternoon and head to the Grand Chancellor Hotel in the rental car we pick up from the airport, where our 5-year-old enthusiastically tells the friendly reception staff that we are visiting from Australia. After checking out the room, pool, gym and restaurant area we stroll over to Constitution Dock opposite for fish and chips at The Drunken Admiral Restaurant.
View from Grand Chancellor Hobart. Photo / Janet Stone
The next morning we are keen to explore our surroundings. First, we tuck into a delicious and abundant buffet breakfast, where the make-your-own juice station was a hit with the kids who tossed whole apples, oranges and carrots into the machine watching it turn them into a delicious, pip and skin-free juice.
Bellies full, we walk the 300 metres to the Tasmania Museum and Art Gallery, browsing the artefacts before walking up to Salamanca Street markets, then up Salamanca Place to Princess Park to take in the view. We alternate between jumpers on and jumpers off, as the fast-moving clouds whisk over the sun, seemingly changing the temperature by 10 degrees every time.
We return to the hotel, appreciating its central location, for a toilet stop, shoe change for the 7-year-old and a quick coffee and hot chocolate in its cafe-cum-bar while gazing at the soul-stirring vista over the River Derwent and looking up at the moody sky through the soaring glass atrium.
Re-energised we walk into the city centre, admiring the tidy parks, heritage buildings, and enjoying the hustle and bustle of city life. We squeeze onto a bench with city workers on their lunch breaks to peruse a map, confirming to our youngest that Tasmania is part of Australia and also marvelling at how close we are to Antarctica.
Salmanca Street with a beautiful view of Mount Wellington. Photo / Janet Stone
Hobart to the Big4 St Helens Holiday Park (3 hours)
We are packed up ready to set off at 9am for our longest leg of the trip, the three-hour drive to St Helens. With snacks packed, iPad charged but hidden (for emergencies only) we head off with coffees in hand and hope in our hearts.
We arrive at 5pm. Unexpectedly we had to make regular stops to alleviate complaints of car sickness.
This was likely due to our small rental car coupled with the surprisingly winding and rural roads and probably not helped that we succumbed to requests for the iPad after 25 minutes.
Despite our later-than-expected arrival, our spirits remained high, dazzled by the beauty of the Tasmanian landscape as we drove. Oohs and ahhs are admitted as we first spot the bluest of blue ocean that I’d only ever seen before in Fiji’s Northern Islands as we head North.
Overnight in St Helens
We arrive at our accommodation - the Big4 in St Helens and check into our tidy, clean and functional two-bed cabin. The following morning, we headed into the town centre where the main street was buzzing and got our caffeine fix at Coffee Away on Cecilia Street. We chat to the friendly locals, both two and four-legged, before hopping in the car for the 30-minute scenic drive to the Bay of Fires.
Tasmania’s Bay of Fires is known for its striking red rocks, which contrast beautifully with the crystal-clear waters. Photo / Janet Stone
The crystal-clear waters looked even more sublime when contrasted with the fiery red rocks that lined the bay. We scramble up the rocks and explored the beach - tentatively dipping our toes into the ocean. Not a swimming day, we decide.
The next leg of our journey took us from St Helens to Swansea stopping at Bicheno on route. A fairly uneventful drive along the coast road, taking in the breathtaking scenery, with no moaning, complaints or iPad requests. We hit the bakery in Bicheno and walk around the small and pretty town, along the beach and up to the headland before jumping in the car to Swansea Beach Chalets.
We take a family vote not to detour to Wineglass Bay, to minimise driving time. Unpacking at our swanky cabin perched above Jubilee Beach in the centre of the Freycinet Coast a feeling of calm and contentment washes over me as I take in the awe-inspiring view across Great Oyster Bay to the Freycinet Peninsula. We excitedly check out the stacked fire pits, the heated pool, and the beach, already wishing we could stay longer despite just arriving.
Jubilee Beach. Photo / Janet Stone
The next morning, we make a beeline to Melshell Oyster Shack (a 15-minute drive) to avoid any queuing and find ourselves the first customers of the day. We all try an oyster, with the 7-year-old eating two and the 5-year-old chewing one twice before spitting it out. We hire a little camp stove and cook up prawns and scallops for a strange but delicious morning tea.
We head to Swansea town centre where it turns out to be Christmas parade day. We join the crowds lining the streets to watch. The temperature seemed to have soared significantly and we wait patiently outside the supermarket enjoying blasts of air conditioning as the automatic doors open and close before watching the colourful floats pass by, flanked by a marching band and Father Christmas.
We bolt back to our chalet to make the most of the swimming weather, dropping our bags and donning our swimmers at a rate of knots before bursting out of the chalet, towels in hand, to be greeted by a cold wind and clouds with a temperature drop of about 15 degrees. We chicken out and head to the pool.
The pool at Swansea Beach Chalets. Photo / Janet Stone
Swansea - Hobart (1 hour 40 minutes)
To break up the second-longest leg of our journey, we stop at Wattlebanks Coastal Cafe and Providore in Orford, a place we had stumbled upon during an emergency stop on the first leg of our trip to enjoy another coffee and pastry before heading back to Hobart. The moaning and “when are we going to get there?” had decreased; they must be building up their tolerance, we tell ourselves.
The Mona museum in Hobart is best accessed by a scenic ferry ride, offering unique views of the city and Mount Wellington. Photo / Janet Stone
On our final morning, we head to Mona museum on the Mona ferry. Enjoying the views from a different vantage point watching the city being gazed down upon by the atmospheric Mount Wellington before disappearing from view.
With heavy hearts, we pack up and drive to the airport talking about how we have only scratched the surface of this amazing Isle.
With so much to see and do still, maybe for our next road trip we’ll fly into Launceston and do the North coast, we say.
