Bedham Wall

As we ventured westward, ascending into the heart of Tasmania's wild embrace, our spirits soared, buoyed by the rugged, breathtaking beauty of the landscape that unfolded before us. Along the way, we paused at a modest marker by the roadside, only to discover it signified the exact geographical center of Tasmania—a serene and symbolic heart of this ancient, untamed land.

As we neared our resting place for the night, Derwent Bridge, a sign for "The Wall" captured our gaze, its message a beacon of intrigue and artistry. Grammy's voice crackled through the UHF, her excitement mirroring ours, urging us toward this unexpected detour despite Anth's unfamiliarity with the allure that awaited us.

Upon arrival, a sense of wonder enveloped us. Nestled within a vast metal shed, hidden among the wild bush, was an exhibition that defied expectations. Before us stood a magnificent wall of Huon pine, its intricate carvings a testament to the land's rugged history and the tenacity of its people. We were captivated, lost in the narratives etched into the wood, each detail a brushstroke in the larger tale of survival and endurance.

Our journey through time was sweetened by a hearty indulgence in scones, laden with jam and cream, savored beside the comforting embrace of a fireplace. This respite from the wilds fortified us for the journey ahead, and soon we found ourselves at the edge of the Derwent River, our campsite for the night offering a view both serene and surreal.

The campsite, cloaked in an otherworldly allure, welcomed us with open arms. We staked our claim near the water's edge, the expanse of a dried lakebed stretching out before us, its surface dotted with the haunting remnants of trees long passed. As the chill of evening descended, we ventured into the twilight in search of wombats, their elusive forms dancing just beyond our reach.

Gathering once more around the warmth of a rare fire, we succumbed to the ancient storytelling of the flickering flames, a ritual as old as time itself. The encroaching night wrapped us in a blanket of stars, and as the cold crept in, promising a frost touched dawn at a mere 1°C, we retreated to the sanctuary of our abodes. Wrapped in the cocoon of our collective memories, we surrendered to the night, embraced by the deepest cold we'd yet faced in Tasmania, and drifted into dreams woven from the fabric of our day's adventures.Read more