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Day 1: the misty moors

Like I said, we spent three days filming rock in Tasmania. I was just along for the drive. The conception of island is challenged when you drive for 5 hours and a full packet of mint slice without seeing the coast, and when you have grown up on this small island  and yet, in your 30s find yourself eating rice cakes in countryside you’ve never seen before. The network of roads traversing the island does not make a sticky spider’s web, these wobbly tendrils are floating free into the wilderness, barely held in place by the settlements they connect. There are not many roads; you would have thought I would have travelled on most of them by now.

The road of day one, a debated choice. You can either go the ‘interesting’ way (said the sculptor) or the ‘picturesque’ way (said the historian), both taking 4 hours, neither avoiding the hairpin bends unheard of on the Nullarbor. As it turned out, the interesting way was misty and sublime and the picturesque way was misty and turned terrifying.

A new highway skirts the small towns and their bake-houses and releases 4WDs into winding roads and misty moors you might mistake for Steve Coogan’s northern England. I wanted to stop and take photos at every opportunity, of mist and old weatherboard do-er-uppers. The tripod came out a couple of times for scenes to be later sent to the recycle bin; they were just the first rocks we saw. The rocks before the rocks. Incredible at first, Mt Roland, rising out of nothing to a solidified cresting wave, then forgotten when more Westerosian geologies appeared.

The thing you don’t want to do when driving around Tasmania is forget that people live here, but the first day from dawn to dark we see almost none. About as many as in Nic’s films.

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One Comment

  1. ferg wrote:

    Wonderful. Write a book. Or two.

    Saturday, July 5, 2014 at 1:54 am | Permalink

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