Tasmania is impossibly beautiful. It’s so pristine, so rugged and so earthy that it doesn’t compare to anywhere else I’ve ever been. Mountains, ocean and bays are everywhere, juxtaposed together into a spectacular landscape that defies description. Words fall really short in describing it, and I’m rarely at a loss for words.

Hobart, mid morning. Everywhere you peek, the water beckons.

Mount Wellington keeping sentinel over Hobart, snow-capped after this week’s storms. I’m headed up in a couple of days.

Arthur Circus in Battery Point. A circular street of gorgeous cottages constructed in the 1800’s to house British military officers. Very neat. I got the local history from a resident who stopped me to chat.

Seven Mile Beach, just minutes outside Hobart en route to the Tasman Peninsula. Holy smokes – beyond gorgeous, with a perfect break to boot.

Port Arthur started as a British timber outpost in 1830 and then converted in the ensuing decades to a brutal prison and convict settlement for incorrigible criminals who the Crown wanted as far from the UK as possible. Think they succeeded? Nobody was swimming back to Dover from here. Ah, the benefits of slave labor. The historic sight is amazingly well-preserved after the inevitable dilapidation caused by a hundred and eighty years of weathering. It was a bit eery to walk its grounds, which are located in a stunningly beautiful location. You could almost hear the screams and cries of its prisoners begging to be released from their misery. Sorry, fellas….break’s over…

Knowing how beautiful the countryside was outside your cell had to make one’s stay even more grim.

Cellblock with fireplace heat to keep the prisoners toasty and warm. Not. I’m sure the guards were kept quite comfy, however.

The Convict Church. I was blown away by this building. Even after its deterioration, it was magnificent to see and walk through. It really grabbed me.

The main cellblock, with hospital and barracks behind.

Tasman Blow Hole. Really wild as the waves were compressed and shot up a hundred feet.

En route from Port Arthur to Swansea on the east coast, where I stayed the night.

Approaching Swansea next morning, contemplating Freycinet National Park and its peninsula. Incredible.

I’m off to the northern stretches of Tassie today. Weather’s great – I’m psyched.