I Got Into a Car with a Stranger, and it was Great.

I’m not going to lie, I was a little bit concerned about visiting Australia, mostly because of all the snake and spider horror stories that the people in New Zealand (the land of literally nothing dangerous - except the sun) told me. But, I made it without a bite, scratch, scare (mostly) or reason for concern! Although, there was one night a rescued a spider from my room, only later to find out it was poisonous. ...whoops.

I stayed in a lovely town called Cygnet, on the southern side of Tasmania. Many people said that Tasmania was rather similar to New Zealand, and some people said it was more similar to New Zealand than to the rest of Australia. I can see why they said that, it definitely wasn’t anything like the outback, that’s for sure. It was beautiful and mountainous, and when the rain is more frequent, the grass is a lush, bright green.

The place I stayed in this little town of Cygnet was home to an absolutely wonderful family who were just as kind as they were welcoming. But before I walked through the doors of this lovely little farm house, I had quite an arrival.

I had landed at the Hobart airport and was about to make my way to the bus stop - a 15 minute walk - to take a bus, wait a few hours, than take another bus. Not terribly exciting. As I walked along the road a small red car pulled up alongside me with a man behind the wheel and a cheerful girl riding passenger. “Hey, do you need a ride!?” I thought for a moment… “I’m just walking to the bus stop, I’m almost there, actually.” “Oh, well where are you taking the bus to, we we can probably bring you there?” … I contemplated the offer. It would be much nicer to get a ride than to take the bus, and they seem friendly enough. And so, going against all of my judgement about getting into a car with a stranger, I did. I put my bags in the car and off we went. I soon learned that the girl riding passenger was another “hitchhiker” like me. She had prepared herself to walk 4 hours from the airport to her destination and was walking on the road just behind me. I started to think: “Wait… what happens when she gets out of the car and it’s just me and this guy…? Was this a bad idea?”

Nope!

Great idea!

The guy was actually from Boston, so it was really nice to spend some time with someone from near home. We had driven 20 minutes in the opposite direction to bring the other woman to her destination and then we set off back down the road. We talked to each other and shared our interests in traveling. As it turned out, we were both going to the same little town of Cygnet (what are the odds?) and so we traveled together, making a few stops along the way.
“What is this? Do you mind if we take a look?” “Oh, not at all, let’s see!”
We pulled into the cutest little chain of shops I’d ever seen. What made these shops so unique was that each one was a different car of a train! A real train that had permanently been parked and repurposed.

We walked to each of the train cars to see what each one had to offer. After a decent amount of time admiring this little stop, we got back on the road again.
“I want some cherries. Like, I want to find a little place on the side of the road selling cherries for $5. Keep an eye out, that’s your new job - the cherry finder.” “You got it!”

After just a few minutes of driving, there it was. A sign on the side of the road stating “Cherries - $5.” “There it is! Oh my gosh, you called it.” We pulled over and went over the the honor system cherry stand. We bought a large bag of cherry seconds for $3 (a better deal than the small bag of

firsts for $5) and snacked the rest of the way to Cygnet.

But we hadn’t arrived yet.

“Pagan Cider Cellar Door. This is the place I’m supposed to meet my friend later. Want to check it out now?” “Oh sure, why not!”

We pulled in and all of the backpackers were just getting off of work from picking cherries. We entered the building and were greeted to a cider tasting - apple, cherry, and peach (prefered in that order by both of us). Now, I don’t particularly care for alcohol, but I decided to taste these drinks and, I’m not going to lie, they were good.
Finally, we were off for the final time. We looked up the address of my hosts on a map, drove up a dead end dirt road, stopped by a metal gate, asked a neighbor, looked at the map again, and found a sign for “The Farmhouse Kitchen” “This must be the one!” and so with many thanks and a wave goodbye, me and my friendly Boston driver parted ways and I had arrived.

I knocked on the door and was greeted by a girl covered in dirt (from mowing the lawn) 5 excited dogs, and a cheerful, happy woman in an apron cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “You’re here! Welcome! How are you!!” Everyone exclaimed. Immediately I went into my story of the friendly Boston driver and our trip here as I hugged my new host mother. Right away I felt at home and welcomed into the house. It was like greeting friends/family after being away for months more so than arriving to a place I had never been before.

And this was just the start of a 2 week visit turned into a month long stay.

See “Time in Tassie” for more on my stay in Tasmania!