We got to Hobart at about 6pm after slowly making our way back from Swansea. Via a message on Gail’s answering machine we were reminded that the yachts from the Sydney to Hobart yacht race were due in sometime that day. We wandered down to Sullivan’s cove half heartedly, thinking wistfully of bed.

There wasn’t much activity and no outrageously tall masts in the harbour – the yachts hadn’t arrived. The word was that they were expected around midnight. We started to make our way down to Salamanca for dinner when there was an announcement over loud speakers telling us that the lead yacht – Wild Oats – was now expected to arrive by 9pm. Then shortly another announcement with a revised time of 8:30pm. This was too good; it was now 7:30pm and not many people around. We bought fish and chips and sat on the end of the jetty that Wild Oats would have to pass by within metres.

The arrival of Wild Oats was announced by an accompanying helicopter then a fleet of cruisers surrounding the monstrous yacht like little ants attacking an injured grasshopper.

One of the facts that an official was spouting over the public address system is the height of the mast on Wild Oats – 45m – over 10 stories high.

On our way home I was musing on what it would have been like at the other end of the race in Sydney; we would have been lucky to get a glimpse of anything other than the tall mast in the distance over the heads of the enormous crowds.

12th December 2010 Wellington Park

We were sitting for lunch on some ledge overlooking Hobart and the Huon Valley when this Currawong turned up hopeful for a feed.

Currawongs always make me laugh; they make comical sounds and leap about like Zulus and seem to crash through trees when they are flying. When they do stand still they have an unfathomable look like an emu.

12th December 2010, Mt Wellington

This is actually on the upper Hobart Rivulet. I accessed it from within Wellington Park, but apparently it can be accessed by a nearby road.

I was on a club walk and managed to get in two shots; that is change lenses, set up tripod, postion, fart around, take the shots, pack up, run up a steep hill to catch up with the other walkers who decided against walking down.

28th November 2010, Nth Hobart

Roey the cat, is Gail’s cat. He sleeps and meows and dribbles and demands attention and Gail makes fun of his middle age paunch.

19th November 2010 Nth Hobart

I started off trying to take photos of the lips in this picture; they are so good. My photos did not do them justice though.

This is another picture from the exhibition of student art work displayed at The Friends’ School in North Hobart.

19th November 2010 Nth Hobart

The Friends’ School in North Hobart hosted an exhibition of students’ art work; this is a shot of part of an artwork. I thought it looked like an anime character.

The photo is taken on an angle, close up, with only a narrow strip in focus.

19th November 2010 North Hobart

A couple more shots from the exhibition hosted at The Friends’ School.

Inspired by the amazing art and good wine I was in a creative frenzy snapping shots randomly at everything. Wiebke’s infectious giggling and laughing did nothing to curb my enthusiasm.

I was surprised in the cold light of a sober and later day to see that some of the shots looked OK

19th November 2010 Nth Hobart

The Friends’ School in North Hobart hosted an exhibition of students’ art work.

Above is a photo of part of the display that Wiebke’s daughter Hannah exhibited.

Wiebke and I were both slightly sloshed and laughing a lot. I was mostly occupied with taking photos, at strange angles and in macro of the art works. I was impressed with the exhibits and the student artists (that is, artists who happen to be students); we talked with several of them.

12th November 2010 Swansea, and (below) 6th November 2010 Parliament Square Salamanca

You probably can’t see in the photo above because the sparrow is in silhouette; he has launched with his wings still closed.

Happy birthday Joh. I think these are appropriate themes for your new directions in life and they are also qualities you already have. Goodluck.

Sunday 14th November 2010 Huonville and Saturday 20th November Hobart

I have had the luxury of test riding some amazing motorcycles. It started with Harley Davidson; a fleet of Harleys came to Huonville. I signed up for a spin on three of them – a vrod muscle and two typical harley big bore tourers.

Richardson’s Harley Davidson from Launceston hosted the ride while the bikes were in Tasmania. I met Chris and Mark; they both seemed like old time bikers who still had the passion and some residual wildness. Chris may have recognised something similar in me; he gave us (Gail was with me as pillion) a pep talk on how he’d, umm, make things more interesting if he saw our cheesy grins in his rear view mirror. We obliged him

Gail’s previous motorcycling experience was as a passenger on Vietnamese motorcycle taxis. My time in SE Asia told me that she must be a risk taker, and will probably never experience something as dangerous as those motorcycle taxis again.

We idled out of town on the Vrod – there were about ten riders all up. The Vrod felt ungainly, but I’d never ridden anything like this before. The ride was to Cygnet and back – a great piece of road with some long fast corners, one smooth tight corner and a couple of good straights. Barely beyond the outskirts of town, I twisted the throttle. It was, at this instant in time, that my new addiction began.

I twisted it right back and was shocked at the response. We launched. Everything in my peripheral vision blurred. Shifting up through the gears started the launch all over again after each shift. We’d blasted past everyone and were up behind Chris in a nanosecond, but at this time, with only one cheesy grin.

Gail told me later that she nearly vomited on that first ride. By the third ride she was hooting and hollering and being generally irresponsible and not acting her age at all; this woman has depth!

The following two bikes were a bit of an anti climax, and had a gear change that felt like it was from an old time truck. But, they were inspiring and gave me heaps of confidence to push them hard. The Vrod has a slipper clutch, and I wonder if that was responsible for the smoother gear change.

We were both buzzing for days after that.

Demo day number two was with Triumph. I’ve always preferred the logical, no nonsense, focus on speed and performance and handling of Japanese bikes. Triumph is English, but their performance bikes are of the same ilk as their Japanese counterparts. First up we (yes, Gail was with me again, grinning and happy) had the Sprint ST followed by the Tiger and then the Rocket III. The rocket III is really a departure from sanity.

On those first Harley rides, I was kind of expecting Gail to tap me on the shoulder in mild panic, but she didn’t. She was enjoying it. This is when I began to worry. I would have to be the responsible person here – a novel…ummm…concept.

The Sprint and the Tiger were surprisingly boring. They were fast (203km/h on the tiger) but bland. I was just disappointed.

Where was that Vrod hyperspace sensation? I want more of that!

Enter The Rocket III. Think of Wagner’s Ride of the valkyries as the music for the introduction

This photo is from the Triumph configurator website. I’ve added the windshield, passenger backrest and pannier bags – all things I’d get if I had one.

A 2.3 litre monstrosity. My car has a 1.3 litre engine. I always looked upon this bike as a freak with no real world use, except, maybe, sitting on 180km/h non stop down an autobahn. I booked a ride on it just because I could; it was an opportunity to check out something exotic and extreme in it’s nature.

We idled out of Hobart. At the first roundabout I was shocked – it didn’t want to turn. A huge rear tyre, 240mm wide, was keeping us upright. We were warned about this. After that initial shock I started getting the hang of it.

We rumbled through lovely corners in lovely hills. It felt good. I liked it. We hit a straight and I twisted the hyperspace controller – everything blurred. We were suddenly up behind a van that was, just moments before, on the horizon in front of us. The few cars that we recently overtook were now on our rear horizon. My poor brain was trying to compute what had just happened – how did we get here? I do remember during the hyperspace jump worrying about my ability to hang on because this insane thing didn’t have a windscreen.

I want one; I want a rocket.

We also idled around an esplanade along the Derwent river. This was enjoyable too. The Rocket is just a fun bike to be with. I think I could ride this thing responsibly most of the time, just ambling along; it feels good. And go hyperspace in a nanosecond whenever that subconscious whim appears; just a little blast here and there