Touring the two-headed monster

In the next few entries I'll be blogging about my recent trip to Tasmania.

Day 1 - Tasmanian tourist parks

This day begins at night, actually, because we flew to Tassie at 8:40pm (We did make it on the plane, thankfully, once Mum had gone back to the parking place to get a birth certificate that had been forgotten). We had a great flight, a little turbulence during our descent, but we made it ok.

First of all, I must congratulate Jetstar on two very good flights - the crew were very friendly and helpful, going as far as to help us with our touring plans and answering my 11 year old brother's questions about the plane. For a low-cost airline, I didn't expect this level of service. Thanks, Jetstar - I will be back!

Anyway, so we get into Hobart about 10pm due to a delay or two, and get a silver (?) taxi to the tourist park where we were staying. Mum carefully remembered the instructions she was given: "Yes, you can come in at 10 o'clock, no problem! We'll leave the key under the mat".

So we go to the 'mat'... no key.

We try all the other mats... no key.

We knock on the door... no answer. (By this time I'm freezing in the Tasmanian wind and wondering whether we'll be homeless for the night)

OK - what now? We try to find our cabin. Maybe it'll be under a mat there. We walk around in the dark, looking for a number we wouldn't be able to see anyway. We just about give up - and then we see it. A little gold number 6. Our cabin!

We hurry to the door - I use the flashlight on my phone - only to see there's no mat, and definately no key.

We return to reception - by this time I'm nearly hypothermic - and I calmly advise my mother that if we don't go and book into a hotel soon we'll be sleeping on a park bench for the night.

Suddenly, we hear voices. A couple of blokes talking in a spa shed nearby. There's a light on. Help is here! Brave mum goes to the door and knocks. There's silence in the shed. So she goes verbal. "Knock, knock!" she calls out, as if nearly banging the door in couldn't be heard. There's a sound of rumaging around inside as one guy reaches for his towel, and the door opens. Mum explains the situation. "Just hang on, I'll get dressed", the bloke says.

Anyway to cut a long and boring waiting story short, the guy comes out dressed, and explains that he's only the groundsman but he'll go in and get us a key. Thank God - I think he was an angel! He was tall enough anyway.

We get into our cabin by about 11.30, and into bed soon after. I wrote the following in my phone while waiting to get to sleep:

"Touring the two headed monster, Day 1. Just when I recover from mum's birth cert mishap, I experience tasmanian caravan parks for the first time... Thought we'd b homeless but God sent an angel in the form of a groundsman. My tasmanian door won't stay shut and there's a hole in my tasmanian wall".