Off to market

I am in Strahan, a lovely little village on the west coast of Tasmania, which is affectionately known as Australia's island state and is, in my opinion, the last of those few places remaining in the world where time seems to have stood still with respect to flora, fauna and countryside.

In fact, if all the modern yachts in Strahan harbour were replaced by Victorian-era ships, the place would seem stuck in the 1870s. I had disembarked from the Spirit of Tasmania, a luxurious ferry that sails from Melbourne to Devonport, that morning and had spent the entire day driving the 225km at my own pace, stopping often to appreciate and photograph the beautiful route.

The next morning, which is a Saturday, however, there is nothing relaxing about the drive. My target is the Tasmanian capital of Hobart, 300km away, where the Saturday Salamanca Place market is on from 8.30am to 3pm. This is reputed to be the most happening street market on the continent and I am determined to experience it slowly, so I have my poor travel mates up by 5.45am. They zombie through their showers and breakfast and are strapped into the car by 7.15am. It is a blurry drive of delightful twisty roads, multi-hued rainforests, shimmering lakes and crisp morning air.

If the scenery we have just driven through can be compared to a soft harmonious pastel colour painting, then the Salamanca Place market is a vibrant in-your-face modern art masterpiece.

The whole place is bustling with an infectious buzz as shoppers, sightseeing tourists and locals browse, bargain and gossip at rows of stalls set up by merchants to sell indigenous produce. The market is focused on organic produce, from fruits and vegetables to bread and pastries. There are handicrafts made of Huon pine, a wood that doesn't rot because it contains special oils: these pine trees live for up to 2000 years. Then there are the buskers or hobby musicians practising their passion to entertain the crowd, ranging from a full octet to a single teenager singing "Ave Maria" with all her heart.

Then there is the food - jams, cheeses, bread, sauces and meat. I do an entire circuit of the market, first with just a focus on tasting samples that most food or dairy stalls are handing out. Then I head to where a dear old lady and her pretty grand-daughter are grilling an array of meats and sausages, which are then served sizzling hot between bread or with coleslaw and sauces.

I park at a vantage point with my camera and engage in some people-watching, which is great fun and very productive with a zoom lens. Close to noon the buskers warm up and get into their element. Everything from folk songs by a local band to an aria sung by a young girl sends beautiful music into the air.

Hobart is our base for two days, which we spend walking around the gorgeous old town behind Salamanca Square. The Visitors Centre hands out an interesting walking map of the town's prettiest neighbourhoods, resplendent with Victorian architecture and uncluttered by modern high-rises.

On the third day we drive a clockwise circuit around Hobart, going to Bruny Island, which with its blue waters, amazing beaches and charming little villages made me seriously consider becoming an illegal immigrant. We then touched on Peppermint Bay and the Tahune Skywalk, a cantilever platform that takes us on a circuit round the rainforest at tree-top level before getting back to Hobart.

Tasmania is a delight to drive in, and it is meant to be seen by road. There are innumerable things to do and places to see when going from one place to another. For example, on our drive to Port Arthur, south of Hobart, our first stop is Richmond, just 25km away. Australia's oldest bridge, dating back to 1823, stands here across the Coal River. Across the bridge is St John's Church, the oldest remaining Catholic Church. Completing the trio of oldest on the continent, there is also the oldest gaol. All of these were built using convict labour, including the gaol.

Port Arthur's most famous attraction is its convict colony, a historic site with well-preserved ruins and informative signboards. The site is at its dramatic best when the setting sun gives the yellow stone a golden hue. But somehow I can't escape the sense of gloom that pervades the place. Port Arthur was a penal colony where miserable convicts lived in appalling conditions, watched over by ruthless guards and with misery and pain as their constant companions. The historic vibe of this place makes the 45 minute lantern-lit Ghost Tours during the late evening deliciously eerie and gloomy.

The next day, back in Hobart sitting by the waterfront and swigging Cascade Lager, the gloom seems far away. Tasmania's days of misery and pain, when it served as a big jail, too, are well and truly over. Today this heart-shaped isle is a beautiful destination from where you'll take back only happy memories.