Erik Skye Travel Journal

22 Jan 2012

For the map, click here: Google Maps – Wizard of Oz

Car’s trip odometer: 8,800 clicks (km)

I spotted Suzanne just as I was departing Freycinet Lodge and ran over to show her one of the photo’s I’d taken. It was the black and white one from yesterday’s article, and I was enamored by the look on her face. It was as if she was thinking with a bit of irony ‘I don’t know where you came from, and I’m helpless to stop you right now, but you seem harmless enough, so go ahead and take your photo.’ Anyway, if I had any intention of attending the ceremony yesterday as a real photographer, capturing a unique moment or expression such as Suzanne's would be the epitome of my aim (as perhaps was de Vinci’s when he painted the famous smile of Mona Lisa).

I made my way through the thickly-forested hills of northeast Tasmania.

“Here the country seemed wilder than ever, and after a long and tiresome walk through the underbrush they entered another forest, where the trees were bigger and older than any they had ever seen. ‘This forest is perfectly delightful,’ declared the lion, looking around him with joy; ‘never have I seen a more beautiful place.’ ‘It seems gloomy,’ said the scarecrow. ‘Not a bit of it,’ answered the Lion; ‘I should like to live here all my life. See how soft the dried leaves are under your feet and how rich and green the moss is that clings to these old trees. Surely no wild beast could wish a pleasanter home.’”27

I saw a road sign which said “Halls Falls” and thought ‘why not’. I didn’t take the time to orient myself in the parking lot and headed out on the first path I found leading into the woods. Coming upon spider webs, ferns, and low-hanging branches across the trail were my first indicators I may have taken a lesser used path. I finally came upon a tee where the tiny trail I was on intercepted a main artery (which presumably went one way to the falls while I, having had enough, took the opposite way to the parking lot). Even though I never did make it to Halls Falls, the soft sunlight filtering through the forest giants to lay diffused among saplings below, a rushing sound (which I hoped was water but always turned out to be wind in the tree tops), lush green giant ferns reminiscent of story books with dinosaurs (who’s heavy fronds I was made to walk under), the occasional cry of an exotic-sounding giant bird, and the sanctuary of solitude were rewards enough.

I continued (by car) and eventually came upon relatively flat, cultivated farmlands.

“The country… seemed rich and happy. There were field upon field of ripening grain, with well-paved roads running between, and pretty rippling brooks with strong bridges across them.” 28

The farmlands finally bled into Tasmania’s second largest (and second oldest) city, named Launceston. I’d been advised by travel guide and Tasmanian alike to visit a place called Cataract Gorge there, which I promptly did upon arrival. I wasn’t disappointed, immediately falling in love with the most perfect blend of elements. There were two bright white suspension bridges over the gorge, which shook and swayed as you crossed. The gorge itself was filled with a jumble of brown rocks and lined by tall brown cliffs rimmed with eucalypts. A clear, shallow river flowed through, emptying over a man-made weir to meet a tranquil blue lake used by happy swimming teenagers. There was a large green lawn with a modest number of people playing and sunbathing alongside an oversized man-made swimming pool. A trail system circled the lake and ran along one side of the gorge up to an old power station perhaps 4 km away. It was a whimsical, charming setting worthy of its own passage in The Wizard of Oz.

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Footnotes:

27. L. Frank Baum, The Wizard of Oz (The Bobbs-Merrill Company, 1903) pp. 190, 191.

28. L. Frank Baum, The Wizard of Oz (The Bobbs-Merrill Company, 1903) p. 198.