There's not a cloud in the sky (Hobart)

Wendy Matthews sings The Day You Went Away and today's title comes from that song in a tribute to the perfect weather we are enjoying.

The apartment we have is, fortunately, in a very quiet area. The morning panned out as usual, Jayne slept on and I got up to greet the morning and finish yesterday's blog. Our clothes are almost all dry which means we once again have wardrobe options. Good news.

The crowd stretches all the way down the hill

Salamanca markets was the first destination of the day. We have both been there before but neither of us was prepared for the crush of people. It appears that all roads led to the markets this morning and we watched people flooding in as we walked along the waterfront. We successfully negotiated the crowds for about an hour before I decided it was time to retreat to the shade and enjoy breakfast. This was necessary because it is a picture perfect day, not a cloud in the sky and the sun was burning. Sadly, the sunscreen and my cap were resting comfortably back in the apartment.

Zum looked like a great place to shelter from both crowds and sunshine. We scored a table in the shaded area out the back and waited for someone to supply us with menus. It was, like the markets, crowded, a good sign at any eatery, but it required patience. The coffee was good, the freshly squeezed OJ even better. Just to prove that an alien has inhabited my body, I had the granola with labneh and passionfruit. Jayne wanted photographic evidence to post on the blog but thought of that too late.

New hat

Once more into the sun and we decided we couldn't continue and headed to the nearest chemist to purchase sunscreen. Neither of us can stand the oily feeling of it on our skin, but it is better than the alternative. Then back to the markets. The crowd had continued to grow as did my frustration at the lack of consideration people show in situations such as this: random stops in the middle of the walkway; deviating straight into you forcing evasive action because they saw something shiny.; pushing prams into areas where they clearly won't fit. Despite the crush we soldiered on and found things to buy. Jayne purchased a 'net jacket' and the elusive red bracelet. I had searched two countries without success (excluding my quest in Sydney) and we found it at Salamanca markets. I purchased a pair of socks with bicycles on them and a hat.

Tony Abbott's favourite take away in Tassie

You don't see brickwork like this anymore

The markets negotiated without death or injury, we turned for the apartment and stopped at the bottle shop to collect supplies for the day's happy hour. In doing so I found the bottle of wine we had last evening from our mini bar had the massive premium of $2 added to it. Another reason to recommend Sullivan's Cove Apartments. Wine sorted and nibblies stowed away, it was back home to prepare for the afternoon's activities. We also used FB messenger to contact Dan in Whistler so he could speak to my mother - we had her on the mobile. Ah, the marvels of modern technology.

I've never been on a tight timeline like this for a holiday and we discussed whether we would try to do everything or just approach each day with a laissez-faire attitude. My love of all things Gallic saw the laid back approach take precedence. So, no organised tours for us, we are content to wander the dock area to while away the hours. We visited a couple of art galleries but weren't particularly taken by anything which is fortunate dear reader because, as you would know, we have no vacant walls in our apartment.


As we walked from one gallery and refocussed on the Lark Distillery, I looked up at the backdrop of mountain and sky behind Hobart and commented on how clear it would be at the summit. Given the top of Mt Wellington is often shrouded in cloud we thought a quick change of plans was in order and headed to the car park to drive to the mountain top.

It was a straightforward drive until we ended up in a conga line of cars snaking our way slowly towards the peak. Top speed was an estimated 40km/h and well below the speed limit or the parameters of safe driving. It would seem the virtue for the day was patience. Not so for the car a little ahead of us whose intemperance saw him overtake the snail-paced leader on one of the few straight sections - still not a safe manoeuvre. Happily for the rest of us his freedom was short lived as a minibus lurked around the next corner and we caught him up.

We are staying at the place with the red roof

There were some spectacular views through thinning foliage as we wound our way up the side of the mountain. I was unable to enjoy them because the road required my attention and Jayne was pre-occupied examining the inside of her eyelids. We arrived soon enough to see that the tar was melting in the blistering 21°C heat. I don't know what compound they used for the tar but if it couldn't cope with 21°,  roads in Sydney would be flowing like a river.

This was a minor section of meltdown

It was quite congested at the top, as was expected given the visibility. It wasn't crystal clear due the haze and sea spray but it was well worth the drive. Views like this are usually only achieved after days of hard slog with a heavy pack on your back. Not that Jayne would understand that.

Makes me want to go bushwalking

Back down the mountain we made better time than on the ascent and were at the apartment in time for happy hour on the balcony. It's almost like being at home.

A pity the service didn't match the view

Dinner was at the Glasshouse on one of the piers recommended by friends (no pressure Mel and Dean). So, the view is divine, straight down the river and we had the pick of the tables. However, it was a little disconcerting to be reminded three times before we had placed our dinner order that this was a timed sitting and we needed to be out by 8pm. I understand that patrons can be unforgiving - I did work in the north-west of Sydney for 7 years. Thinking but not naming people. But to be told three times is a little over the top.



And then, once the orders were taken the food just kept rolling out. We have eaten our share of degustation in restaurants and the arrival of the food is generally treated seriously and is accompanied by an explanation of what is on the plate. Not so much at Glasshouse. Just the naming of the dish as it appeared on the menu. Perfunctory. The wait staff were well drilled but without interest or passion.

My boss asked me to have an oyster for him

Sometimes we hadn't finished the previous course before the next one magically appeared. It continued thus until we were all out of food and we still had 45 minutes before we needed to evacuate the table. Hmmmm. Could there be a lesson learned here? Ultimately I don't care. I won't be back. The food was good, not great, and the view was OK, but really? Nuh. I'll go for food and service and no view every time. So, if I was heading out for dinner in Hobart now it would be straight past Glasshouse and on to Smolt. They have a lot to learn about genuine service and making the customer feel welcomed.