The pristine island on the edge of the world

Go to the laid-back island for astonishing beaches, stupendous hiking, bizarre creatures and the planet’s cleanest air
The curious thing about the pandemic was how it affected perspectives. For over a decade Tasmania had become ever more aspirational. Mainlanders (as Tasmanians call all other Australians) lauded the cutting-edge creativity and high-end gastronomy of capital Hobart. Elsewhere, tours became ever more chic, hotels ever more glamorous (aka expensive). Then the pandemic hit. 
Don’t get me wrong. Tasmanian food and wine remains stellar, blessed by the clean waters of the Southern Ocean and the world’s purest rainfall, a byproduct of what is officially the world’s cleanest air (having Patagonia and Antarctica as your nearest neighbours upwind has its benefits). And glass-walled, five-star stays remain if you want them.
But post-pandemic, a new generation of lifestyle downshifters has rejuvenated Tassie’s tired B&Bs, relaxed the luxury from buttoned-up to bohemian and put the soul back into soul-food. In short, they’ve reminded us that a key part of the state’s appeal is its character – easygoing,  quietly eccentric, adventurous, fun. 
The other part hasn’t changed for aeons. Tasmania packs a lot of scenery into an area the size of Ireland. The east coast is scalloped by astonishing beaches and lapped by sea the colour of kingfishers. The west is like Scotland on steroids: raw, wild, flailed by the Roaring Forties. Between them is a World Heritage-listed wilderness like Elysian garden.
Walkers are in God’s own country. While I’ve avoided multi-day walks in this itinerary – visit Great Walks of Tasmania (greatwalkstasmania.com) for inspiration – everyone should stretch their legs at some point. The Parks & Wildlife Service recommends 60 great short walks state-wide on its website (parks.tas.gov.au). You won’t just see scenery bathed in luminous light but some of the strangest concept creatures ever to be put into limited production.
I’ve included wildlife hotspots in this circuit tailored for first-time visitors, a mix of classics with areas less suited to mass-market tourism so, arguably, more rewarding. See it as a template not an instruction. If you prefer wilderness, base in Corinna not Strahan for two nights, for example.
Whatever you do, you’ll leave wowed by ever-changing scenery and with a realisation that you’ve barely scratched the surface. That there are still places like Bruny Island and the bucolic south, the Walls of Jerusalem National Park or Flinders Island, a world apart even by Tasmanian standards, to discover. Save them for the next trip because you’ll also find that Tassie has a way of worming into your heart. And maybe, like me, you’ll end up at estate agents’ windows pondering a possibility of another, better life. 
I’ll bet that’s exactly what happened to those downshifters.
A room at luxury Marriott hotel The Tasman (marriott.com) or a good-value modern studio apartment in Salamanca Suites (salamancasuites.com.au) and a gentle day to recuperate after a long flight. Surprise one: Hobart is perfect for pottering. At Salamanca convict-built sandstone warehouses now harbour galleries, crafts outlets and cafes; a lovely spot to browse and people-watch. Its Saturday crafts market (8.30am till 3pm) is the perfect Tasmanian introduction. Sunday farmers’ market Farm Gate (farmgatemarket.com.au) is also excellent.
Follow the waterfront to the Tasmanian Museum and Gallery (tmag.tas.gov.au) for a primer into what makes Tassie tick: history, wildlife, green ethics. Ice-breaker ships in Constitution Dock are a reminder this is a launchpad for Antarctica. Exact replica huts of explorer Douglas Mawson (mawsons-huts.org.au) tell more. I’d follow it with fish and chips harbourside at Fish Frenzy (fishfrenzy.com.au) then a whisky digestif from Lark Distillery (larkdistillery.com). Surprise two: Hobart is a whisky town.
A backwater in the Nineties, Hobart today is what a city by film director Wes Anderson might look like: dizzyingly inventive yet charmingly playful. Behind that shift has been MONA, the Museum of Old and New Art (mona.net.au). Everyone tells you it’s a must-see. What they don’t say is you may not like an irreverent collection which juxtaposes antiquities with works sourced from the badlands of modern art, none more so than a digestive machine which is fed at 11am and defecates at 2pm. Still, there’s no faulting the wow factor of a subterranean gallery like a pharaoh’s tomb. Pre-booked tickets are essential. Arrive on a gallery ferry from Brooke Street Pier.
Hobart’s other icon is Kunanyi, aka Mount Wellington. If you’re up for five hours of wilderness-lite, walk up like Charles Darwin. If not, assuming you haven’t already collected a hire car, take the Explorer Bus (mtwellingtonexplorer.com.au) or go up by minibus and down by mountain bike on a guided tour (tasmba.com.au). Either way, the view of Australia’s finest harbour setting is superb, one reason why Darwin preferred Hobart to Sydney.
You’re here to dine well. Current favourites of gastronomy critics include high-end Dier Makr (diermakr.com), Peppina (peppinarestaurant.com), Aloft (aloftrestaurant.com) and Fico (ficofico.net).
It’s time to hit the road. When Anthony Trollope said Van Diemen’s Land – Tasmania’s convict era name – was “harsh with the crack of the jailor’s whip” he was referring to penitentiaries like the Port Arthur convict colony. The trim lawns of its Unesco-listed prison are starkly at odds with the grim personal narratives told in Australia’s best-preserved convict site.
For authorities, the Tasman Peninsula provided a natural prison, gated by narrow isthmus Eaglehawk Neck, walled by the highest sea cliffs in Australia. If they CGI’d its 980ft dolerite cliffs where seals bark and whales breach no one would believe it. Even with Tasman Island Cruises (tasmancruises.com.au) they stretch credulity. Prefer to hike? Then take the track to Cape Raoul (five hours return). Gourmands should skip both and book a table at Van Bone (vanbone.com.au), the peak destination dining in Tasmania.
Allow 90 minutes’ drive to overnight at newly restored Triabunna Barracks (triabunnabarracks.com).
Though also a convict prison, uninhabited Maria Island National Park (pronounced “Ma-rye-a”) is better understood today as a Noah’s Ark for madly bizarre wildlife: wombats, Tasmanian devils, Forester kangaroos, Bennetts wallabies and all but one of the state’s dozen endemic birds, including the delightfully named, ridiculously rare forty-spotted pardalote. 
Catch the first ferry from Triabunna wharf (encountermaria.com.au) to former convict settlement Darlington. A national parks information centre here has information boards on Aboriginal and colonial history, plus wildlife. Walks nearby go to Painted Rocks or up Bishop And Clerk, but I’d recommend booking your ferry ticket 24 hours in advance and reserving a bike to discover beaches few visitors ever see – Riedle Bay in particular is magical. Wombats are usually found grazing grasslands.
Head north afterwards to stay near Coles Bay: expensive refurbished rooms at Freycinet Lodge (freycinetlodge.com.au) or good-value cabins at Sandpiper Cottages (sandpipercottages.com.au) or splurge on a gorgeous nature lodge (swanriversanctuary.com.au).
A day of beaches. None is more celebrated than Wineglass Bay in Freycinet National Park. Or more visited. To experience its dazzling arc of white powder at its best (not to mention wallabies hoping for snacks) arrive early(ish) for a 30-minute ascent over The Hazards mountains (trainers are fine), then walk to the far end, where the beach curls into a tiny bay. Few other tourists bother.
Arguably the most heart-stoppingly beautiful beaches are two hours’ drive up the east coast, just above a sea like lamé. Beyond Binalong Bay is a series of coves worthy of the tropics: Cosy Corner and Sloop Reef are magical. If you’re campervanning, you’ve struck gold.
Otherwise, head inland via hippy hill town St Marys to Launceston, Tasmania’s pocket-sized second city. Stretch your legs after the drive in Cataract Gorge and tour the excellent Queen Victoria Museum and Art Gallery (qvmag.tas.gov.au). Stay for two nights just above Cataract Gorge in smart new Stillwater Seven (stillwater.com.au).
Tasmania’s reputation for world-class wine is founded on the Tamar Valley. You can lose a happy day pootling around the 30-plus vineyards of this bucolic region (see tamarvalleywine.com.au). Expect cool-climate wines: riesling, sauvignon blanc, pinot noir, sensational sparkling. Don’t expect highfalutin wine geekery – this is Tasmania. Respected larger producers include Josef Chromy (josefchromy.com.au), which has a good restaurant, and sparkling specialist Jansz (jansz.com.au). Smaller places have rustic charm. Book a group tour with Tamar Valley Wine Tours (tamarvalleywinetours.com.au) or private with Tamar Valley Boutique Wine Tours (tamarvalleyfoodandwineboutiquetours.com.au).
Alternatively, sidetrack east. The Blue Tier region is reverting to rainforest and wildlife after a pioneer mining boom. Fossick for gemstones in remote creeks with local expert Mark Locke (secretrivertours.com) then join the evening Quoll Patrol with ace wildlife guide Craig ‘Bushie’ Williams: a shack in the middle of God-knows-where, a barbie, bizarre wildlife and a sky boiling with stars (tasmanianwildlifetours.com.au). Peak Tasmania.  
In 1824 the Van Diemen’s Land Company called the north-west “beyond the ramparts of the unknown”. It remains so for many international visitors. The further you go west, the more you sense the special remoteness of this far corner.
Stop in muralled country town Sheffield, pipsqueak beach resort Penguin and pretty Boat Harbour Beach en route to Stanley, an eye-catching nest of historic cottages clustered beneath The Nut, the stump of a volcanic plug. Yours is the tin-roofed Ship Inn (shipinnstanley.com.au): luxurious suites, lovely owners.
After busy days, relax. Browse gift shops in colonial era cottages. Walk or take a chairlift up The Nut for breezy 360-degree views from its table-top summit. From September to March head to Godfrey’s Beach at dusk to watch fairy penguins waddle ashore to burrows. Keep quiet and don’t use torches or phones.
A frontline of Tasmanian eco-wars coveted by timber/mining industries and conservationists alike, the Tarkine is a mosaic of ancient forest, wild beaches, heath and untamed rivers. Or, as a World Wildlife Fund report put it in 2004, “a living link with the ancient supercontinent of Gondwana”.
To sense the majesty of Australia’s largest tract of old-growth rainforest, take the 40-mile Tarkine Drive on former logging roads. Linger at the 20 or stops en route to appreciate a region as biodiverse as Gaia’s boudoir.
Loop back via shack settlements along the wild west coast: Couta Rocks; Sundown Point, with 2,000-year-old aboriginal hieroglyphs; and finally Arthur River. Beyond its beach is nothing but sea until Patagonia half a world away. A sign at its lookout reads simply: “Edge of the world”. 
If you’ve done enough driving this holiday, skip the Tarkine Drive and arrive in Arthur River by 10am for a cruise upriver into the forest by vintage riverboat (arthurrivercruises.com.au).
When the Tasmanian Wilderness World Heritage Area was approved by Unesco in 1982, it ticked seven of the ten criteria for inclusion; more than the Pyramids or Venice, the Serengeti or Victoria Falls. Even at Cradle Mountain, the area’s premier wilderness playground, where daytrippers in trainers easily outnumber Gore-Tex booted hikers, you daywalk into areas that feel like pockets of Eden.
Drop your bags in a cute cabin at family-owned Cradle Mountain Wilderness Village (cradlevillage.com.au). Check the forecast in the visitor centre and choose your walk: a circuit on boardwalks around Dove Lake (two hours); a modest ascent to Marions Lookout (three hours return); or the rugged summit of Cradle Mountain itself (seven hours return): golden buttongrass moors then a boulder scramble for a view of the gods from 5,070ft. Quite a day. 
Congratulations: you’ve earned a treatment at the Waldheim spa (cradlemountainlodge.com.au). Or book for feeding time at Tasmanian Devil conservation centre Devils@Cradle (devilsatcradle.com).
After the state’s premier wilderness destination, its antithesis. Corinna (corinna.com.au) is the remnant of a gold-rush settlement from the 1850s; a huddle of tin-roofed riverside shacks deep in remote rainforest, newly smartened up with a good restaurant (when I first went 15 years ago you were lucky if the chef turned up). Come to walk the boardwalk footpaths or paddle a kayak through clouds wobbling in a river stained by vegetative tannin. Cruise to the coast on the Arcadia II, a lovely trip on a 1930s cruiser built of local Huon pine. Most of all, step off the modern world and discover the stillness of a place beyond time. Magic.
Strahan is Corinna developed – a premier-league village-resort created from what was a lonely logging settlement. The year 1982 and Australia’s largest civilian protest, to preserve the wild Franklin and Gordon rivers from development, changed everything. Even David Bellamy got himself arrested in a tin dinghy. Stay waterside at Risby Cove (risbycove.com.au) or for a quirky luxury shack book Captain’s Rest (captainsrest.com). Sedate cruises on state-of-the-art catamarans glide across Macquarie Harbour up the silent ribbon of Gordon River; book with Gordon River Cruises (gordonrivercruises.com.au).
If you cruised from Corinna, take to the rails instead. The West Coast Wilderness Railway (wcwr.com.au) operates historic steam and diesel trains through rainforest and over ravines on a line built to transport copper ore in 1893. Its terminus is Queenstown, still a rough-and-ready mining town.
Reserve tickets for the theatre in Strahan that night – The Ship That Never Was (roundearth.com.au) narrates rollicking convict history through Australia’s longest running show.
Take your time over a return to Hobart. The Lyell Highway swings east through the World Heritage Wilderness via lookouts and river trails. Stop at Derwent River for the phenomenal The Wall in the Wilderness. Since 1995 sculptor Greg Duncan has carved a 100m by 3m flat-relief of explorers and bushmen in Huon pine. It is astonishing; a Sistine Chapel in wood. Book ahead.
For a final walk, catch a ferry from Cynthia Point to Echo Point then return on a lake-side path (three hours) or ascend to Shadow Lake (five hours). If you’d like to stay here for the night there’s Pumphouse Point wilderness retreat, a former HEP station uniquely sited in the lake (pumphousepoint.com.au). Otherwise, onwards east for a true Tassie last night: working farm Rathmore Homestead has luxury suites in a listed homestead, budget former shearers’ quarters plus platypus in its creeks (rathmore.com.au).
Drop the hire car at Hobart airport and fly home via mainland Australia.
Early or late-summer are the ideal times to visit Tasmania: late November to December or (my preference) February to March. Peak season is from Christmas until the end of January – hotel bookings and prices rise accordingly, although Hobart is at its vivacious best. Weather is more fickle from September to October and in April but bushwalks are still possible. They are too in winter (June to August) if you’re kitted up, although many hotels close outside Hobart and Launceston. As a rule of thumb, the weather gets progressively warmer the further north you go. Year-round there’s much truth in the old cliché about four seasons in a day in the south-west and central highlands. 
Go with the UK’s only specialist, Tasmanian Odyssey (tasmanianodyssey.com). Owner Susie, a specialist in bespoke tours, has a little black book of specialist guides and small accommodation providers that only decades of experience in Tasmania can bring – the sort of personal approach that suits Tasmania so well. A 14-day self-drive itinerary around Tasmania costs from £1,795pp (based on two sharing) including car hire, B&B accommodation and a National Parks Pass. Flights are not included but can be arranged.
Informal is the Tasmanian way. Pack a good shirt for smarter dining options and perhaps remove mud-spattered walking boots in restaurants. Otherwise, Tasmania does not stand on ceremony, so there is no dress code beyond the need for practical outdoors wear: strong shoes or boots and a light breathable waterproof if daywalking. Trainers are fine for boardwalked routes. Gaiters are only required for long-distance hikes. Pack good sunscreen and a hat whatever you’re doing.
English writer Nicholas Shakespeare’s In Tasmania blends anecdotal travelogue, biography, colonial history into an entertaining read. For more about the life of Tasmania’s indigenous peoples track down Lyndall Ryan’s Tasmanian Aborigines and a recent book by Cassandra Pybus on the so-called last Tasmanian aborigine, Truganini – an important tale. Two themes appear among novels which represent the Tasmanian landscape: either the haunting Gothic backdrop presented by Death of a River Guide by Richard Flanagan; or the scenery as a spiritual almost rhapsodic realm in Robbie Arnott’s magical Flames.
This story was first published in May 2023 and has been revised and updated.