Hello Hobart

It has been over twenty-five years since I lived in Hobart and more than ten since my last visit. I have made it a ritual to come back to the city to commemorate those of my birthdays which have a zero attached, although why I feel compelled to do this is somewhat unclear to me. My experience of living in Hobart was not a particularly happy one, partly due to my own issues, partly due to the complex insularity and at that time, extremely conservative views which seemed to abound in Tasmania generally. Having happily led a geographically promiscuous life; I was unprepared to find a place where I could not make a friend. Hobart is that place, so why do I return?

To say that I return for the "graphics" of the city is, I know, obscure, but there is something about how the light, the air, and the built and natural environments of Hobart interact, which make it one of the most beautiful cities I have found in my travels, here and abroad.

Graphic

Firstly of course there is the Port of Hobart dotted with a miscellany of vessels from workmanlike fishing boats, to elegant four masters, and the Mona Ferries with their camouflage of naked falling women. These sit alongside buildings both old and modern, all reflecting the kind of architecture I have come to associate with this city. There is a lovely melding of wood, stone and glass in these buildings and inside they are often finished in a colour palette and style, I think unique, to this place. There is something of the shoreline, rockpools, seaweed, lichens and tree bark in the matt shades' chosen to decorate.

Interestingly I never find artwork here which captures these shades. The paintings in the galleries of Salamanca and evident in the iconic Saturday market are unfailingly bright or broodingly dark. There are however many people "making "and selling their wares at the market although the tatt to treasure ration seems

Shades of Hobart

to have somewhat slanted away from treasure since I was here last.

What has not slanted is the quality of the food. Hobart, like many cities post Covid has pivoted toward food basics such as sandwiches, pies, tortillas, hamburgers, schnitzels, and everything with chips, but it has been done with a delicate and much more multi-cultural slant since I was here last.

On a wander through Battery Point taking in Arthurs Circle, and Battery Park I found Leoht, (old English for light) a delightful restaurant which lived up to its name and served exquisite dishes. There is a serenity in this gorgeous little precinct above Salamanca which holds its colonial roots close. The Battery Point Preservation Society is apparently a local force, and I could hear them debating loudly as I passed their local office. The efforts of locals to preserve their heritage was very evident in the lovingly restored Narrnya, a colonial Merchant's home brought back to life after periods of dereliction and use as a boarding house.

Colonial gardening

One reason for this trip has been to take a long overdue visit to Mona. Reviews from friends who have seen the Museum, widely credited with reviving Tasmanian tourism, have veered from love to loathing. Given its genesis in the mind of its unconventional owner and creator, David Walsh, such differing reactions are not unexpected. Me, I love the theatre of the building itself, and its headland setting approached by water. The dramatics of climbing 91 stairs or walking through a tunnel drilled through golden rock to access the building and then the descent into the underground displays, gives the building a dark mystery. The beauty of the setting once you emerge from the darkened display rooms, highlights how subterranean the actual building is. The food and wine at the Moorilla Wine Bar are gorgeous. Neither the artwork, nor the way it is curated, inspire me although Ai Weiwei`s White House and its setting were beautiful. I do adore the numerous sitting spaces throughout the gallery which are reminiscent of lounge rooms and are used to that effect. It is a very comfortable place to sit in. Great chairs! The entire experience, womblike.

Ai Weiwei`s White House

The Tasmanian Museum and Art gallery does not have great chairs, but it does have thought provoking and beautiful art in an exhibition which looks at artists connections to Tasmania and its islands, a display of beetles captured and pinned in intricate designs which is both awful and fabulous and prints of Pompei which for the first time made me wish I had visited there.

The airport bus, joined at the first stop, takes me on an impromptu farewell tour past the harbour and through the city.

I remember first coming here to live, a time in my life when I had shed a past and was both vulnerable and expectant. Scrolling through the years, today I don`t think Hobart is the place to come in these

Beautiful Bugs

states. This time I have come grounded and sure footed, content. And the city has amply rewarded me. It remains a favourite.