I hiked the Bay of Fires with Tasmanian Walking Co, and found peace
This nature-loving traveller's long weekend trip landed her with a world-renowned stretch of coastline almost to herself.
Lifestyle
Don't miss out on the headlines from Lifestyle. Followed categories will be added to My News.
Many guided walks will show you amazing scenery but less common is one that makes you feel different.
We’ve not long started when the first sense of peace is seeded. Bare feet sink into sand so white it seems to glow, wild bays are bookended by striated fins of granite dusted in orange lichen, and the rush of waves is soothing. Then I spot some Tassie devil footprints. My body gives a little sigh.
Northeast Tasmania’s Bay of Fires spans 50km of coastline, the southern end of which was this year awarded Best Australian Beach by beach expert Brad Farmer for Tourism Australia (12,000 beaches were surveyed in the process). It’s famous for the brilliance of its silica sand, clear blue water and granite coast, whose colours can be blinding when the sun is out. That isn’t today – graphite clouds hang low and the wind has whipped the ocean into messy waves – but it’s beautiful regardless, and having it all to ourselves feels a rare treat.
Obvious tracks and signage are minimal around these parts. However, we’re being guided by “B” (Bryony) and Zac from Tasmanian Walking Company. Rather than a point-to-point hiking mission, our three-day itinerary will be a relaxed affair of easy rambles with a dash of kayaking, based at their award-winning eco-lodge, tucked in casuarina woodland and overlooking the ocean. It’s an invitation to abandon any goals and just “be”.
Our first afternoon has us wandering long beaches barefoot, crunching over dinky bays metres thick with washed-up seashells, and rock-hopping granite headlands colliding with an emerald interior. The pace is slow and it’s hardly exhausting yet we’re rewarded with a peppermint foot bath and a glass of bubbles on arrival at the lodge anyway, prepared by angelic and softly spoken spa attendant, Jess. I feel calm just looking at her.
You often hear of architects wanting to build something that connects with the landscape and makes people feel something, and this lodge achieves both in spades. Two long timber and glass pavilions feature so many soaring louvred windows I almost feel outside when I’m in. You can see the stars from bed, the ocean from the shower. Wallabies drink from rock hollows in the garden.
It’s off grid, using composting toilets, rainwater and solar power, and the mild inconvenience of only being able to charge my phone in the library is a deterrent from mindless scrolling. It’s a disconnection from everything that doesn’t matter and a connection with everything that does: nature, conversation and the sharing of good food, of which there is plenty.
Our second day is heralded by the sun’s lemony glow rising from the ocean, in full glory by the time we slip into kayaks for a morning paddle on Ansons River. Dark tannin waters mirror the blue skies, trees and occasional dolerite wall. A white-bellied sea eagle accompanies us for some time, pausing to swoop on a black swan in a David Attenborough-level display of nature.
The return to the lodge is on foot, across pink samphire saltmarsh and expansive rolling dunes – a white mini-Sahara – that Zac says look different every time he visits. “First time I came through there was a big sand bowl here. Now it’s held together by grasses,” he says. “It’s the kind of place that reminds you how connected everything is and what an impact other factors have, including us.” No one can resist running and rolling down the dunes in squeals of laughter – a tactile, simple pleasure. Another little surrender.
We might have eschewed some aspects of modern life, but we’re not short of creature comforts. Returns to the lodge are met with freshly baked cake leading into pre-dinner canapés (the garlic-butter scallops are a hit) and local wines served by a crackling fire. Dinner is kunzea braised lamb, but first there’s time for a bath.
I wasn’t entirely sure about stripping off outdoors in a windy 14C, but the tub, resting on a small deck tucked in the trees and overlooking the ocean, is sheltered, and the water deep and hot. In the distance, Eddystone Point Lighthouse flashes its beacon at me. Or am I flashing it? Anyway, it’s a blissful indulgence.
On the third morning, the ocean has calmed like my mind. I attempt some yoga in the library – windows open for the ocean soundtrack – but end up lazing face down on the mat like a lizard in the sun.
The lodge team has seen it all before. “I breathe the air and drink the water down here and I feel my body suck it in,” Zac says. Team leader Katie says, “Some people break down during the end-of-tour reflection we invite guests to share in.” For three days, I’ve enjoyed a bubble of peace. I simply want to stay.
The writer travelled as a guest of Tasmanian Walking Company and Tourism Tasmania.
How to join a Bay of Fires guided hike
The three-day Bay of Fires Long Weekend with Tasmanian Walking Company starts at $1995 and includes lodge accommodation, guides, all meals (including beer and wine), and transfers to and from Launceston.
An alternative five-day Signature Walk covers more ground and includes a night in eco tents. Trips run October through May, plus a sprinkling of winter departures.
More Coverage
Originally published as I hiked the Bay of Fires with Tasmanian Walking Co, and found peace