Although Mt Field is a very special place, we were pleased to leave the mud behind and head back to civilization. The river rose a bit more on Thursday night but didn’t break the banks. We intended to head for Hobart but had really no plans for where we might stay. Many travelers go to the Showgrounds which charges about $20 per night but the facilities are rudimentary. We thought we might try a caravan park near the airport but, as we were passing the Cadbury Factory at Claremont we saw the Berriedale Caravan Park on our left, on the banks of the river and looking very inviting. OK, decision made! Perhaps not the best decision because our site was narrow, at the bottom of a hill, with a couple of puddles and cost $30. Oh, well, it’ll do for one night. The best thing about it was that the park is next door to the Moorilla Winery which also features in our memories of Hobart. Moorilla was started by Claudia Alcorso who came out from Italy after WW2 to develop a textile industry in Tasmania. He started to grow grapes as a hobby but by 1980, it was quite a successful business. His son, Julian, was the winemaker and his two grandsons attended Friends School where I was teaching. We became quite friendly with the family and occasionally helped out with grape picking and bottling. One time, Julian rang on a Friday night to say he needed help with bottling the next day. Jamie was to play in a basketball match but we could fit in a couple of hours at the winery beforehand. To save time, Jamie went dressed ready to play. After several hours in the bottling plant, his shoes were saturated with wine and the smell was very obvious right through the match. Did he win? I can’t remember, but we went home with a half dozen of the wines we’d bottled that day and we still have one left. Moorilla Wines has been taken over by a larger company in recent years and has moved into high-class accommodation, restaurant, conference facilities and so on. Since, Claudio’s day there has always been a museum associated with the winery but the latest innovation is the biggest yet.
MONA, the Museum of Old and New Art, opened this year. It is a multi-level building dug into the sandstone bedrock with 4 levels of exhibits, ranging from Egyptian mummies, to ultra-modern installation pieces. It was funded by David Walsh, a professional gambler, who has developed a reputation for purchasing contemporary art, the more challenging the better. It’s worth looking at their website to get a feel for what is on display but much better to spend an hour or two browsing.
One piece which has attracted lots of attention is a poo-making machine. It’s a series of bottles replicqting the human process of turning food into you know what. Is it art? Who knows! We glanced over a lot of the more confronting displays but were awed by the range and quality of what he curators have put together. We particularly liked a Russian audio-visual presentation called The Final Riot, and a full-size Mack truck jammed into a tiny room with absolutely no way of ever getting it out.
Entry is free and you can get an iPod with a self-guided tour. They’ve had 100000 visitors since it opened and some people return weekly to ‘get their fix’. An extraordinary thing to be sited in Hobart. After our two or three hours, we were able to relax in the winebar with a glass of Moorilla’s best and a cheese platter. Nothing gets better than this. In the evening, we treated ourselves to a meal at the Berriedale Bowls Club - porterhouse steak or Trevalla fillets for $10, with a nice glass of wine. This morning we packed up with the plan to head to Bruny Island. First stop, though was the local shopping centre for breakfast. I tried to park in the main car park but there was nowhere long enough for our rig so decided we would have to try somewhere else. There is only one exit, opening on to a narrow street with a sharp left turn – not the easiest but possible with care. I headed directly for the gate, there was another line of cars coming to it from the left and a third from the right. Just the situation where a little courtesy would help. I gently eased forward till it was my turn only to be berated by a female voice from the right. ‘How rude!’ Why don’t you wait your turn?’ Courtesy, I thought, is in very short supply. She was still yelling at me as we departed Glenorchy leaving the unfriendly natives in our wake.
MONA, the Museum of Old and New Art, opened this year. It is a multi-level building dug into the sandstone bedrock with 4 levels of exhibits, ranging from Egyptian mummies, to ultra-modern installation pieces. It was funded by David Walsh, a professional gambler, who has developed a reputation for purchasing contemporary art, the more challenging the better. It’s worth looking at their website to get a feel for what is on display but much better to spend an hour or two browsing.
One piece which has attracted lots of attention is a poo-making machine. It’s a series of bottles replicqting the human process of turning food into you know what. Is it art? Who knows! We glanced over a lot of the more confronting displays but were awed by the range and quality of what he curators have put together. We particularly liked a Russian audio-visual presentation called The Final Riot, and a full-size Mack truck jammed into a tiny room with absolutely no way of ever getting it out. 
Entry is free and you can get an iPod with a self-guided tour. They’ve had 100000 visitors since it opened and some people return weekly to ‘get their fix’. An extraordinary thing to be sited in Hobart. After our two or three hours, we were able to relax in the winebar with a glass of Moorilla’s best and a cheese platter. Nothing gets better than this. In the evening, we treated ourselves to a meal at the Berriedale Bowls Club - porterhouse steak or Trevalla fillets for $10, with a nice glass of wine. This morning we packed up with the plan to head to Bruny Island. First stop, though was the local shopping centre for breakfast. I tried to park in the main car park but there was nowhere long enough for our rig so decided we would have to try somewhere else. There is only one exit, opening on to a narrow street with a sharp left turn – not the easiest but possible with care. I headed directly for the gate, there was another line of cars coming to it from the left and a third from the right. Just the situation where a little courtesy would help. I gently eased forward till it was my turn only to be berated by a female voice from the right. ‘How rude!’ Why don’t you wait your turn?’ Courtesy, I thought, is in very short supply. She was still yelling at me as we departed Glenorchy leaving the unfriendly natives in our wake.
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