Geeveston is a grey-nomad’s dream: A small historic town on the left bank of the Huon River with two low-cost reserves for self-contained vehicles (i.e. not reliant on amenities like toilets and showers and fitted with a grey-water tank). Laundromat, library, post office, and supermarket in walking distance; a lovely, relaxed vibe; and a platypus walk along a shady creek. After staying at the equally lovely (and cheap) Franklin Foreshore, we decided to base ourselves there to explore the southern tip of Tasmania.
Chatting with the caretaker of our place about where to go food shopping, we got an interesting reply: “At Geeveston. You won’t get anything further south.” What about Dover and Southport? No shops there. Really? Were we again at the edge of civilisation?
A 1-hour drive down the coast takes you to Cockle Creek. And the end of the road. In the west is the Western Wilderness, to the east Recherche Bay, and to the south the Southern Ocean – next stop Antarctica. Other travellers had told us how amazing it was to stay in one of the free campgrounds along Recherche Bay. However, it was the middle of high season and online reviews described that the area was very crowded.
We decided to leave our camper in Geeveston and drove through the familiar scenery of the Huon Valley with its green valleys and misty mountains. After Southport, the road turned into a dirt road. Sooner than expected. A few 4WDs came charging towards us with caravans in tow billowing dust clouds behind them. Man, it was dusty! The ferns and bushes at the side of the road were covered in it.
As the reviews had said, the place was packed. It was incredibly scenic but every possible nook and corner along the bay was occupied by people, kids, dogs, and the extended family with their caravans, tents, trailers – all looking a bit hot and dusty. Okay, instead of camping, we would just drive as far as possible and go for a walk. We expected hordes of people having the same idea but no: there were only a handful of hikers and the beaches that were part of the track were deserted.
Walking in beauty. Seeing, feeling – and maybe swimming? The water was cold. Too cold? We hadn’t thought about bathers… A woman in a canoe encouraged us to take the plunge regardless. We will be grateful to her forever.
Liz Mike Travels 