Early Monday morning, I left for Tasmania, Australia for a three-day trip. Tasmania is an island off of the southeast corner of the Australia mainland. While the island is recognized for its unreal beauty, Tasmanian devils and wild landscapes, I, for the most part, decided to stay within the tame, touristy city limits of Hobart. I’m not proud to admit it, but the main reason for going was of course the Jens Lekman concert.
I’m not going to talk about the Jens Lekman concert at this moment. That’s a whole separate post to keep you thirsting for more mediocre entries about my life.
Despite staying only within Hobart, I very much enjoyed my time there. I want to come back just to experience what a trip out here for a few weeks in the wilderness would be like. I keep pulling up the Tasmania Tourism page wondering how in the world I enjoyed a simple trip to Hobart. A significant amount of Tasmania is still untouched by humans, and the landscape is treacherous and beautiful. I, on the other hand, settled for the tourist-friendly markets and waterfront.
I shacked up at a four-star apartment called Grosvenor Court Apartments. Grosvenor was nice, it had a fridge and kitchen, which I gladly packed full of too much food. I think I was excited about being on my own, so I bought enough to feed me for a week. I picked up ingredients for a couple of delightful dishes: meat with salad and meat with veggies and rice (also known as stir fry). I bought off of this food (including two packages of Manager’s Meat), and consequently, I felt like I had an obligation to eat all of it. I finished off a box of cereal, half a kilo of meat, rice, 2-liters of milk, full bag of salad, veggies and fruit in less than two days. I also ate out during this period. And had beers. This intake of food was offset by about 30km of walking and a 21km bike ride. I think I broke even, but I still feel bloated a day later. Kind of gets a boy excited about the upcoming Chimp or Chump challenge.
The first day I surveyed the city, starting in Sandy bay, then finding local landmarks and my way around town. The new Australian tourism campaign “Where the Bloody Hell Are You?” couldn’t be more fitting. For that matter, “Where the bloody hell was anyone?” The streets were eerily empty, and all the shops were closed. It took a few hours to realize it was Labour Day. Regardless of the holiday, I found out from a couple locals later on that it Hobart is a fairly quiet city despite the amount of people that live there.
I ended up at the Republic Bar and Cafe and scored my Jens Lekman tickets. I also realized that I had been pronouncing his name wrong all this time. I felt like a phony when I sloppily went heavy on the “J” in “JENS” instead of the proper Swedish “Yens Lekman.” I purchased the ticket, and that’s all you are gonna hear about that for now. I felt odd just being in the bar without buying booze. I wanted an excuse to walk around and survey the place, so I bought a Stella. One of the best things about Oz: Stella is on tap everywhere. The bartender asked if I wanted a stubbie or a 10oz, and not knowing what a stubbie was, I went for the 10oz. He filled it up in a rather feminine wine glass. Let’s just say I drank with vigor to get the glass out of my hands.
After a long walk back through town, I made it back to the Grovsenor Court Apartments and fell off my sore feet for some TV. I flipped the TV on to a soap opera called “Neighbors.” Before I left, Shannon recommended that I watch this show. Shannon, the show was terrible.
That was Monday. Tuesday night was the true highlight of the week. More on that to come. Pictures from Hobart here.