by Dave Barnes
Tasmania is one hell of an Island. Before time was measured, indigenous folk roamed its abundant coast. They called it Lutruwita. More recently, white folk came seeking to build wealth by establishing foreign kingdoms. They called it Van Diemens Land. Today, a smattering of people from every corner of the world call it home. Tasmania retains much of its wilderness and its southern seascape is guarded by dolerite walls and towers. The Tasman Peninsula just oozes strangeness and charm. No ascent here is pedestrian. A recent experience on the Moai in SE Tasmania reminded me of running a marathon: hard work, increasing pain, enduring thirst, with a finale of euphoria.
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