The Devil’s Details

Please allow me to introduce myself
I’m a man of wealth and taste
I’ve been around for a long, long years
Stole a million man’s soul and faith

And I was ’round when Jesus Christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that Pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But what’s puzzling you
Is the nature of my game

Sympathy for the Devil. The Rolling Stones

In Grade 5, my son wrote a speech for school on the Tasmanian Devil. Dark fur, stocky build, fierce teeth. Looks a bit like a baby bear. Except that there are no bears here in Tasmania. Only possums and pademelons, quolls and wallabies. The Tasmanian tiger (extinct) and the Tasmanian Devil. Tasmania’s largest carnivorous marsupial. That’s the Tasmanian Devil.

Except that he did not – write a speech on the Devil. Instead, he presented the Wolverine to his classmates. Same thing in my memory – but it is not the same thing, the Tasmanian Devil and the Wolverine. Both look like miniature bears. Both have dark fur. Both are pretty aggressive animals. Both are ferocious predators and love their meat. But one has a pouch and the other one doesn’t. Small detail, huge difference. My apologies to my son. And the Tassie Devil.

For the last two weeks, I have been travelling through Australia’s southernmost state, Tasmania. On my journey, I noticed that the devil is in the detail when exploring a new place. Tasmania is a beautiful part of Australia – varied and ever-changing: cities and towns with a European flair, rolling hills and lush green fields, Eucalypti forests and wet dense rainforest, mountains and cliffs, beaches and crystal-clear waters. Just like the weather, you never know what to expect around the next corner.

It is easy to like Tasmania when visiting the well-known sites: the curious Mona Museum of Old and New Art in Hobart (let’s count how many female genitals we can count, shall we?). The former convict settlements in Port Arthur (hey, let’s bring over 12000 British convicts to this colony called Tasmania and let them form a new community… What could possibly go wrong?). The wilderness of the West Coast, where mining brought fortune and fame to many, and left behind devastation and destruction. Cradle Mountain and glacial lakes, the vineyards of the Tamar Valley. And, last not but not least, the stunning East Coast with its tourist attractions: Bay of Fires, Wineglass Bay, Freycinet National Park. It is easy to like Tasmania.

What made me fall in love with this place, were the little things. The details that you can miss so easily if you don’t take your time and pay attention.

The history of the Henry Jones Art Hotel and its display of local art was explained to us guests in a one-hour tour behind the scenes by a former teacher who hated his job and became the hotel’s curator instead (now, here’s an idea). Once home to a jam factory, now an example of a well-restored historic building that combines the old and the new. A glass of bubbly certainly helped to understand some of the art displayed.

The detail of the Airbnb in Zeehan, a five-hour drive west of Hobart and the first stop on my circuit tour of Tasmania. The verandah swing overlooking the wild valley full of eucalyptus forest and hills. The wallabies grazing in the morning mist and the light of the morning sun. The details.

The red iron-clad bathtub on the porch of the next house on the northwest shores of Tasmania. A bath in steaming hot water in the cold morning air, a cup of coffee and the grazing cows my only witnesses. If you don’t take your time, you might miss something incredibly important.

The things you see when you take your time to look. Like the wombat’s butt, I watched disappear into its burrow’s hole when going for a walk in the rainforest near Cradle Mountain. Or one of my students from Sydney, that crossed my paths not once but twice when touring Tasmania. The kid looked at me as if I was indeed the devil that haunted him. Poor fellow!

I loved having a glass of rosé wine and sunshine on my face at a winery near Launceston called Small Wonder Winery because it reminded me of the Niagara Valley and home. I loved looking for pretty seashells at the Bay of Fire because that’s the only thing that is missing at Sydney’s beautiful beaches. I loved the moonlight that shone on my bed at Freycinet and the stars in the night sky. Loved the sunrise that woke me in the morning and the roaring of the waves crashing against the rocks below.

Today is the last day of my Tasmania trip, and I am tempted to check one more top attraction off my sightseeing list: Freycinet National Park and the famous Wineglass Bay are only an hour’s drive away. Instead, I am sitting at a yellow vintage dining table, overlooking the Great Oyster Bay. A fire in the fireplace in roaring, outside the window the crystal blue ocean is rolling. Where the water meets the sky. Shades of blue.

Somebody asked me if I had seen a Tasmanian Devil on my tour, and I said: No. Well, I have. The first one was a stuffed animal, and for sale at one of the tourist shops. The second one was equally lifeless, dead at the side of the road. Have I seen the devil in Tasmania? No, I have not. But I got a glimpse at what Tasmania is about and I have to say, I liked every little detail of it.