they call the isle Maria

Maria Island is off the east coast of Tasmania. Today it's a national park, but in the past, it was a holding station for prisoners.

You head over on a high-speed ferry, making me think of Catalina. But Maria Island is closer to Angel Island, down to the overnight camping and city lights that are visible at night.

 

The mountains in the distance are Freycinet National Park on the mainland. I'll be going there tomorrow.

That's not a rock or a guinea pig. It's a wombat!

I headed up the hill.

And found a much cuter wombat, with an itchy ear. It was rubbing its head and tail against the branches.

You can see the facial resemblance to koalas. Wombats are BIG: this one probably weighed 20 pounds, though I didn't pick it up.

Did I mention the white sand beaches?

Maybe I'd made a mistake not spending the night. The last ferry leaves at 5. But the housing is in dorms inside the old prison colony. I'll stick to comfort.

It was high tide, so the painted cliffs were mostly below the turquoise sea. 

I'd brought a mask and snorkel borrowed from Carolyn, but the weather's been too cool to consider. Maybe by the time I get to Manly.

Unbeatable view. And I had it all to myself.

Afterward, I headed back through the gum tree forest. And then raced to make the ferry.

Driving north up the east coast, I pulled over after a sign for Spiky Bridge. 

The sign didn't lie.

Now I'm in Bicheno, a tiny town with a blowhole and penguins just a few feet from my studio! 

It's finally low tide, so I scrambled over the rocks. Too early for penguins though.

The sunset seemed to go on and on. I learned that seasons in Australia start on the 1st of the month--so it's been summer for weeks. 

Tomorrow: more fresh seafood (local sea urchin, oysters, and abalone) and sunset kayaking. Might have to squeeze in a winery or two.