I feel decidedly unbloggish, because I am still unable to download any more photographs; accessing networks seems to be something of a problem in this part of the world. I hope that things will improve when I get to Canberra.

I arrived in Launceston (pronounced lawn-sess-tun, unlike the English lawn-stun), and seeing Olive and Frank Bull again was as though we'd only parted a couple of weeks previously. It was just wonderful to see Olive's smiling face after 22 years. They took me straight to their lovely new (well, seven years in their possession) home, and immediately set about making me comfortable. We caught up on all the news of the last twenty years or so, Frank interspersing comments in his droll way which has always made me crack up.

On the Tuesday, Olive took me into the town, a bustling place of about 100,000 souls, with an amazing range of shops. Not for them the suburban shopping mall. This is a town which is quite happy with old-established mom and pop stores. I had to find somewhere to get a whole new set of prints done for sale at both Hobart and Canberra, because the prints from America (Randal Thompson) were only going to arrive in time for the Gold Coast portion of the trip. Olive and I traipsed around until we finally found a place that could do what I wanted at a reasonable price.

Then we headed out to the Cataract Gorge, which carries the north branch of the River Esk. It is an amazing place with beautiful rock formations. We took the chairlift (Olive is scared of heights but jumped into the chairlift like a trooper). The chairlift is the longest single span lift in the world (everywhere needs to be the biggest, best, smallest, beautifullest, something-est to justify its existence!). On arriving at the other side, I saw my first wallaby in the wild in Australia, and a huge flock of peacocks. Someone once said that the peacock is so proud of its finery but forgets that it has really ugly feet!

After lunch, Frank wanted to visit a local auction house where there was a Beswick (Sp?) figurine up for bids. He wanted to check out its quality and see if it was worth bidding on. Frank has a very extensive collection of Beswick figurines and this piebald pony would be a good addition to that collection. He was also interested in a Folio Society-published trilogy about the English Civil War era.

The following day, Frank went to the auction, but the figurine went to a commission bidder for more than he was prepared to pay. He was successful in his bid on the books, however. After he returned, Olive and I went out and picked the books up, along with my prints. Olive then drove me downriver (the Tamar) to a beautiful overlook, where the full expanse of the river could be appreciated. This was the site where the Rebecca was built, a small ketch which was the first boat to cross the Bass Strait to mainland Australia. The Bass Strait is one of the most treacherous bodies of water in the world, definitely not the place for a single-handed sailor!

Thursday was the day for Olive and me to head down the central valley of Tasmania, between the Eastern and Western Tiers of mountains, to Hobart. Our first stop on the way down was at Campbelltown. Here there is a run of engraved bricks, set into the sidewalk, which will eventually run all the way around the town. The names on those bricks are all of convicts who were banished to Australia as their sentence. Typical of a sentence would be seven years for the theft of, say, a loaf of bread. Seven years seems to have been the minimum sentence. Anyone who has a convict ancestor may purchase a brick which is then engraved with the ancestor's name and installed in the sidewalk. Olive has such an ancestor, and has, indeed, purchased a brick. She pointed out one brick in the name of John Kelly, who was the father of the notorious outlaw, Ned Kelly.

Our next stop was the town of Ross, which was very much a convict town. Much of the town was built by convict labor, including a very beautiful bridge spanning the river there. We decided that we would have lunch at the local pub, the "Man O'Ross" but were dismayed to find that no part of it opened until 12 noon! We finally ate at a little newsagent-cum-grocery store-cum-restaurant across the street. Ross is a beautiful little village, much of it built from a honey-colored sandstone. There is a very interesting little store and museum which is mainly about the wool industry and the convicts who started and ran it.

And so to Hobart. Our first call was on Christine and Geoffrey Farmer. Christine had found someone who could do giclee prints for me and, while the examples they showed were of pretty good quality, I wasn't prepared to pay the $45 they wanted to do them, this was four or five times what I'm used to paying.

We then went to meet Margaret Blow at her lovely home in Battery Point. Her husband, Alan, is a Supreme Court Justice here in Tasmania and is currently away in India, attending a Hindu wedding in the family of long-time friends. While waiting for Margaret to return from running errands I discovered that I had lost my phone. Having already laundered one in Sydney, I was faced with the prospect of having to have bought three phones in two weeks, excessive even for me! Fortunately, I had left it at Frank and Olive's, and by some sort of magic, Olive managed to have it delivered to Hobart for me to pick up this morning! After sharing some good cheer with Margaret, Olive and Alison O'May, it was Alison who ferried me over to the O'Leary's house in Kingston, the furthest south I have ever been.

Today, I have been driven around by Liz O'Leary (I am staying with Liz and her husband, Rory while here). After picking up my phone, we wanted to go to Mt. Wellington, but it was covered in cloud, so we headed to Mt. Nelson instead. The views from the top were wonderful and there is also a little cafe there where we had coffee. After driving down we saw that Mt. Wellington was clearing and so decided to make a mad dash up it, hopefully to take some photographs. I managed to get a few about two thirds of the way up, but the mountain was socked in by the time we reached the summit. Mt. Wellington is about 5,000 ft. high and offers spectacular views of the city of Hobart and the Derwent Estuary.

This evening I start work again with a lecture for the calligraaphy group here, and then a workshop on Saturday and Sunday.