Sydney to Hobart – a Marrickville Maman 10th Wedding Anniversary Special Edition

The Husband and I just enjoyed a long weekend in Hobart, sans enfants, to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary.

It is always a boon, when travelling to unknown climes and locales, to gain the recommendations of what to see and where to eat, what to do and where to avoid, from friends who’ve been before.

One such friend, to whom I shall refer as “Betty Summertime”, was adamant that we should dine at a venue she had enjoyed on her Hobart visit, except she couldn’t tell me what it was called or where it was due to her state of extreme inebriation at the time. Betty Summertime also suggested coffee and cake at an excellent Battery Point café called, and I quote, “Something Something”. A veritable human guidebook is Betty.

Happily, another friend was able to supply the actual name of the café, which we located and patronised. We also had many other excellent meals, culminating in our “special” dinner on Saturday evening at Monty’s on Montpelier. The Husband and I both agreed that it was one of the most delicious meals we’d ever eaten, washed down with Champagne and red wine:

First Course: Wasabi oyster, rosemary buns with lavender butter, brioche topped with duck ham and liver parfait, pork belly with apple and other bits.

Second Course: Poached trout, octopus, mussels. Lamb, horseradish, nasturtium salad.

Third Course: Fromage (cloth-aged cheddar, washed rind goat’s cheese), apple, candied walnuts.

The weekend as a whole was restful and restorative. Hobart is an attractive city with lots of beautiful architecture from different eras and a busy yet relaxed vibe. The highlight for me, though, was our visit to Mona. I had heard nothing but amazing things about it, but we were still blown away by how TOTALLY AWESOME the place was, beginning with the ride up the river on its luxurious, camouflage-painted ferry, complete with a plastic cow to lean upon. Visitors are deposited at the bottom of a 99-step staircase, at the top of which is the entrance, its wall covered with a warped, funhouse-style mirror. You are instructed to descend the spiral staircase to the lowest gallery space, three floors underground, and work your way up. The artworks have no explanatory plaques next to them – instead, you use a hand-held electronic device called The O, which displays information about whichever artwork you are standing nearest to. Amazing stuff.

After three hours of mind-blasting audio-visual amazingness, we felt the need to repair to the on-site wine room for a calming wine-tasting session before our return ferry journey.

The Husband and I will definitely return to Tasmania at some point. If you haven’t been, go.

 

 

 

 

 

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