So at last, the big one. The hike we’ve been looking forward to since booking the holiday – the 8 hour trail to the top of Cradle Mountain.
And it looks like we’re going to manage it with ease, until we bottle it with only 100 metres or so to the summit. In our defence, that last stretch comprises big, shiny-sided boulders and loose scree. And conscious of how dramatically a broken ankle, leg or back would influence our ability to drive back to Hobart, we decide to abort.
It’s another special day for wildlife spotting. We wake to find a gang of Pademelons hopping about outside the vans. Smaller than a wallaby and cute as a button, they’re chuffed to bits when we throw them the banana skins from our breakfast.
Our snake count rises to three when out on the trail (though as Steve points out – today’s specimen is barely bigger than an earthworm and probably as dangerous).
Then, just as we’re waiting for the shuttle bus to take us back to camp, we spot another Wombat. Much more brazen than his friend from yesterday, he’s happy to carry on grazing as we sneak up for a closer peak. Excellent stuff.
Someone pinches my camera charger from the camp kitchen in the evening. This pisses me off massively as I suspect finding a replacement will turn out to be major drama.
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