Hobart: I Think I Like This Place

I left Christchurch in the clouds around 8 this morning, after a night of occasional magnitude 4 aftershocks. There was a good one that lasted a few seconds just before we boarded Jetstar’s Airbus 330. Once in the air it was a quick 36 minute flight to Queenstown. To be honest I have no idea where Queenstown is, or if it’s even on the South Island, but it sure is gorgeous. Our approach into the runway took us through a steep sinuous U shaped gorge no doubt carved by the gradual march of a now receded glacier. The peaks were spectacular, looking up at the summits through the cabin window; I can’t imagine what a sight it must be flying into this airport in the snowy winter. I need to figure out where I am so I can pay a visit in the future. I wish I had more than a week to spend here; you really need a whole month or more to get the full New Zealand experience. Definitely coming back.


I typically don’t study my itinerary very closely, I like to pretend I’m a ungulate and just follow the rest of the herd, so I was surprised when I finally looked at my schedule and discovered I have a 5 hour layover in this small stop over port. Damn, wasn’t expecting that. And of course the internet isn’t free. I guess it’s time to invest in a new book…or maybe watch re-runs of the World Series. I’ve been looking for Carl Safina’s recent novel “Forget the title that’s supposed to go here” (it will come to me later) which just came out last month, but apparently the Southern Hemisphere hasn’t caught onto his talent yet; maybe they’re waiting to see if it sells in the States. At any rate I’m looking forward to reading it, “View from Lazy Point”…that’s the title. He’s mastered the art of natural history writing while educating the general public on environmental awareness and the status of endangered species across the globe. Really inspiring reads, I recommend everyone at least pick up“Song for the Blue Ocean”, I couldn’t put it down and you will learn a lot about the world’s fisheries.

Still haven’t found a good cup of coffee here, it looks like a hopeless cause. This cappuccino however is the best I’ve had in an airport so far.

….after much traveling….

I’ve learned in my days of traveling around Australia that hostels, or backpackers as they call them here, can be hit or miss. More often than not it seems the quality of the building itself and the types of people that inhabited the beds is highly depended on the town. Take Cairns for example. If you want a dingy old concrete building with little maintenance, and a creaky dorm bed to share with some just-out-of-high school Irish dudes looking to score some easy syphilis, than Cairns is the place for you. I managed to avoid most of this by getting out onto the Great Barrier Reef whenever possible, but the STD’s were always ready and waiting in the shadows for the chance to colonize new land; not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Hobart, completely different. Walking down the suburban street lined with old colonial style buildings which remind me of French Canada, I found the Narrara Backpackers. Upon opening the front door adorned with stain class windows, I was greeted with a smile by a gorgeous Italian girl sitting around a table sharing pasta with her friends, in a cozy living area with wooden trim. She obviously noticed the recessed look in my eyes and proceeded to help me find my key in the mailbox outside (it was past check in, and being American I’m apparently completely inept without the instructions of a receptionist). Plus how could I resist that smile. Needless to say I like it here already. Even the stars seem brighter.