Public art is more popular in Tasmania than i realised. Here’s a whole town that devoted itself to supporting local artists by painting murals on every available surface (Sheffield, slightly East of Cradle Mountain).

And i caught a picture of this very strange dog. I thought it must have been an elaborate kind of poodle. “Look at this dog,” i said to Tim. “You idiot, that’s an Alpaca,” he replied. Oh, yes i see that now.

Plus, this little valley called Wilmot, on the way to Cradle Mountain, has an abundance of Gorgeous Quirky letterboxes; and even a mural, celebrating said boxes.

(image links to larger version)

You’ll see on the map, that Sheffield is right near a place called Promised Land.

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What a breathtaking experience! Cradle Mountain is jaw-droppingly beautiful; i’m so glad i went there. And very happy that i wound up with a flat tyre at the very summit (no, the carpark really) meaning that i had to stay overnight and get more walking joy in the morning.

The walk around the lake was strenuous enough for me, with my flat-tyre-style ankle (mild recurring sprain); interesting how the whole thing has been made into a boardwalk, so that plants can continue to grow underfoot. Maybe one day i’ll do the five day overland trip.

Driving down the next day was unnerving, as i was driving my wonderful sister’s car with one of those strange ‘space-saving’ pretend tyres instead of the real thing. “Don’t go over seventy,” i was warned.

Ended up going through Sheffield (the Mural Town) to Devonport – one hundred km to find a replacement tyre. And no phone reception anywhere until just outside the Ferry City.

So it turned out that Fiona was giving birth to Son Number Two in Halifax just as i was walking through the fields of joy. Yay for Fiona, Paul, Sasha and the New Thing. That Sociology Lecturer, she is a Legend!

Love youse all for reading,
michael