A journey around Australia's Tasmania

If you have ever looked at a map of Australia and wondered about that little green triangle dangling off the bottom like a loose button on a cardigan, let me tell you: that button is holding the whole outfit together. Tasmania, or "Tassie" to the locals and anyone trying to sound like they belong there, is perhaps the most underrated patch of earth in the southern hemisphere.

I arrived in Hobart expecting a sleepy fishing village. What I found instead was a city that feels like a cozy hug, provided that hug smells faintly of expensive gin and crisp Antarctic air.

Starting in the South: Hobart and the "Museum of Everything"
My first stop was Salamanca Place. If you go on a Saturday, you will encounter the famous market. It is a sensory overload of sandstone, buskers, and people selling things made of Huon Pine that smell so good you will briefly consider throwing out all your IKEA furniture and starting again.

But you cannot talk about Hobart without mentioning MONA (the Museum of Old and New Art). Getting there involves a ferry ride where you can sit on a plastic sheep while sipping sparkling wine. The museum itself is underground, carved into a cliff. It is dark, slightly subversive, and at one point I found myself staring at a machine that mimics the human digestive system. It is the only place on earth where you can feel incredibly sophisticated while looking at something that, quite literally, produces waste. It is brilliant.

Nature and the "Are We There Yet?" Factor
After Hobart, I drove north. Tasmania is small by Australian standards, which means you can drive for three hours and see three different ecosystems, whereas on the mainland, three hours gets you to a different-looking petrol station.

I headed for Cradle Mountain. Now, I am not what you would call a "rugged outdoorsman." My idea of roughing it is a hotel with slow Wi-Fi. However, walking the Dove Lake circuit makes you feel like you have stepped into a high-fantasy novel. The air is so clean it feels like your lungs are being professionally laundered.

I did spot a wombat. They look like sentient brown boulders with a serious attitude problem. They have square droppings and a thick cartilaginous plate on their backsides to crush the skulls of predators. Honestly, I have never related to a creature more.

The East Coast: Sand So White It Blindth
Next was Wineglass Bay in the Freycinet National Park. To see the "iconic view," you have to hike up a series of stone stairs. About halfway up, I realized that my fitness level is best described as "optimistic but misguided."

But the view? It is ridiculous. The water is a shade of turquoise that looks like it has been Photoshopped in real life. The sand is blindingly white. I sat there for an hour, reflecting on how much of my life I spend looking at a glowing rectangle in a dark room when places like this exist. It was a moment of profound clarity, only slightly ruined by a seagull trying to steal my muesli bar.

Port Arthur and the Ghostly Bits
Finally, I visited Port Arthur. It is a hauntingly beautiful place with a dark history. Walking through the ruins of the old penitentiary, you get a real sense of the "dry" British humor that sent people halfway across the world for stealing a loaf of bread. It is peaceful now, but there is a lingering weight to the air.

Why You Should Go
Tasmania is a place that forces you to slow down. It is a bit wild, a bit weird, and remarkably delicious. Between the world-class whisky, the prehistoric forests, and the fact that you can breathe without tasting smog, it is a gem. Just remember to pack a raincoat and a sense of wonder. And maybe watch out for the wombats.