‘I’m going on an adventure…’

...for Knots in the String...

‘I’m going on an adventure…’ JRR Tolkein The Hobbit – an Unexpected Journey

I had thought at my age, adventures might be as simple as walking the dog and him misbehaving when he sees another dog! Or ballet class where Tuesdays are always an adventure – glutes to tear, knees to twist, calves to strain, toes to bruise.

But… today, my husband and I went on a personally guided e-bike tour of Maria Island with Tasmanian ebike Adventures

We know Maria Island like we know our own backyard, but we also knew that the guide and owner of the company, Ben Rea, had a deep knowledge of the place that would fill in gaps for us – First Nation, historical, botanical, geological, zoological.

The adventure was quite simply amazing.

I learned to ride an e-bike – that in itself was an adventure and Ben made sure I was safe and balanced at all times. I’m only used to riding my sixty-year old green bike, the brakes of which are non-existent apart from a sharp backpedal. The e-bike’s brakes (port and starboard) could just about send me into orbit if I pressed them too hard. Everything was finely honed and not sixty years old, the ultimate in technology, and eventually we sailed along … sorry, biked along with the ocean breezes in our faces and the stunning crystalline aqua water of Maria Island on our starboard side.

Wallabies jumped across the track, wombats (including babies) wombled beside us. Parrots shot across our path. Cape Barren geese, oystercatchers and native hens as well. A magpie joined us for morning tea and quietly took my crumbs. Foot long lizards basked in the sun.

What I felt was this immense love for my surroundings – awe really. Sure, there’s dozens of places across the globe that are more beautiful perhaps. But this is pure aqua salt water, challenging rocky peaks, rolling bushland, astringent eucalyptus fragrance floating on the air. No one lives on this offshore island – except the ghosts of a 64,000 year indigenous history and then later, colonial settlers who tried to farm in semi-hostile subsistence. The old houses, Georgian sandstone and Federation timber, breathe history, an essence that for me as an historical fiction writer, just seeps into my very pores.

More than anything, this island represents my whole Swallows and Amazons childhood, a playground that others would die for. My grandfather would sail us over there in his wooden yacht and we would have a whole empty island to play on if we wanted. An abundance of memory. A soul thing…

Now, it’s not just a National Parks Reserve but a World Heritage site. Protected but probably over-loved by the tourists. It’s a fine line, nursing the delicate ambience of the place but not shutting it away. One that governments and departments fail to tread and we shiver a little, fearing for its future.

So we honoured the excellence of the island today. Ben’s five star tour allowed us to do that with sensitivity and grace. Add to that the fact that this 71 year old body rode 30 km on a whizz bang e-bike and I think it’s fair to say it was an adventure of the finest kind…

Thank you so much for coming along with me.

Cheers!