Full Moon in Devonport

2/8/10
Tasmania was a very unique and interesting experience from the moment we drove off the ferry and pulled onto the streets of the port town, Devonport. As we checked into our holiday caravan park I instantly felt like I was in an M. Night Shamalan movie. For starters, the people who owned or managed the caravan park, though extremely nice and helpful, were just simply strange. Next, we approached our “cabin”, which was much more like a container from a ship down in the harbor and instantly made me think, “…this is where Dexter would totally kill someone and chop them up before dropping them into the harbor where this container originally sat.


As I was trying to clear that thought out of my head I noticed a somewhat eerie swing set just feet from our door. Weird. To top it off there were bush fires burning in Tasmania that were leaving a thick mist of smoke floating in the air around us. Oh, and it was a full moon. On the bright side, it was the men’s final for the Australia Open that night, and seeing how, whether you realize it or not, Tasmania IS part of Australia we naturally headed to the local pub to watch the match and grab a drink. The lovely/strange people at the front called us a cab and within minutes we were off to Molly Mollones, or so we thought. Asking the cabbie where would be the best placed to get a beer he said the Gateway and Molly’s would be the only two that would be open, and Molly’s was the better of the two and stayed open much later. As we approached the pub at five to nine they were putting the chairs on the tables and closing up shop. So to the Gateway it was.



Calling the Gateway a pub is a stretch at the least. It is the hotel bar for the” Quality Hotel”, consisting of five bar stools, seven or eight tables, and about 100 poker machines, or “pokies” as they are called in Australia. We decided to belly up at the three barstools not in use and were quickly greeted by Matt, our friendly, yet equally odd barman. He asked what beer we would like to which Jo responded, “We’re in Tasmania, so Cascade is the beer to drink, right?” Quickly, the gentlemen occupying the other two barstools politely informed us that we were in the North of Tasmania and here they drink Boag’s. Apparently, once you pass the windmill towards the south it is acceptable to order Cascade. Boag’s it was, and quite delicious I might add. This is where our night got really interesting. As one of the gentlemen at the end of the bar turned in for the night his seat was quickly replaced by Darren. Darren immediately began chatting it up with us, asking where we were from and what we did, and obviously more concerned with the girls responses than my own. Being that he was entertaining, fairly funny, and as Jo said, “pretty cute”, we included him in our evening at the gateway. As Theresa was getting ready to order another wine she offered to buy Darren a beer, with some “gentle” nudging from Jo, to which he quickly agreed to. After that round he offered a round, which we accepted and quickly regretted as our fun bus came to a screeching halt. Apparently Darren’s limit is 2 beers. As we reached that awkward silence part of the conversation that seems to happen every seven minutes or so, I notice Theresa giving me the “where is the emergency exit” look. I told Jo we needed to pull the cord and get out quickly, and I kid you not it was two minutes max before we finished our drinks, had “Matty” call a cab, and were out the door. Apparently Darren went from entertaining to absolutely hammered and aggressive somewhere between starting beer number two and finishing beer number three. Of course he followed us out front to where we were waiting for our cab, pee’d on the hotel from the sidewalk and then angrily muttered things to us as he began his walk home. Glad that he was gone we headed back to the container to hopefully make it through the night with our minds and bodies intact for the adventures of day two in Tasmania. Goodnight Sunday, goodmorning Monday.