Tasmania is a wild land, so today me and my brother hired a wild car to take us around the island – an automatic Nissan Micra that is as powerful as Josh Thomas with a turnip up his blurter. Ben was particularly proud of his snazzy new dream mobile.
We headed out to Port Arthur, a penal (hehe) colony that was also the scene of the worst mass shooting in Australian history. But enough about the negativity, it was actually really interesting and very pretty. We started our tour of the place with a boat trip. It was like going back in time, without stepping into a time machine… or going to Adelaide.
We checked out the old gaol and the gardens, which are truly beautiful. It’s a lovely part of the world, and it’s wonderful to simply walk through the ruins, which have been poorly maintained but show the brutality of convict society. They had all sorts of weird and wonderful ways of controlling the prisoners, including mental society. Sounds like marriage to me.
The first I ever heard about Port Arthur was during the tragic mass shooting in 1996. It was a fucked up situation, and one that has troubled me for many years, so it was good to visit the site of the tragedy. The memorial was understated and bare, which in some way is appropriate for such an awful thing. I took some time to sit and think about what had happened, and then we moved on.
From there, we headed to the Devil’s Kitchen, which sounds like the sort of place where someone who can’t cook makes bad food, but is actually a massive ocean trench. We also went to a blowhole, which reminded me of a woman or two I’ve known.
Ben wanted to head to Tiny Town, a miniature version of Hobart, but we didn’t make it. Instead we headed to a hobby store that had a giant Terminator in it. He was shooting at that stupid bug thing from Star Wars, which was amusing.
When we got back my uncle and auntie were thirsty, so we headed out for a drink. Which means I’m drunk and sitting at their house, drinking wine and being rude by tapping away at my computer so you lovable cunts can have something to read. So, ah, I’d better go. I’m heading to a beer festival tomorrow, so if I make a post I’ll probably be making as much sense as a chicken with a keyboard.
The Drunk and Jobless World Tour 