Next on the agenda was to make the 3 hour drive to the capital city of Hobart. Little did we know that most of that drive would be on a dirt road. There were literally stretches of 20 minutes where we passed NO ONE except for fields full of sheep.
When we finally arrived in the metropolis of Hobart and are all of a block away from our hotel – John Paul decides to run a red light. Not on purpose….but just one of those brainfart moments where you just roll through a blatantly red stoplight. Maybe he had inhaled too much dust from the dirt roads. This wouldn’t have been such a big deal if the one cop on duty (probably in the entire state of Tasmania) was right behind us. Fifteen minutes and a $200 ticket later, we were checked into our hotel that was called “The Old Woolstore.” This was very appropriate given that we had seen probably ten thousand sheep that day just waiting to be converted into UGG boots. Despite the odd name – the hotel was decent and we ate at a great restraint called “The Ball & Chain.”
Sunday: We spend the morning putzing around the city and waiting for the Lark Distillery to open up. At 11am we decided it was early enough to start drinking whisky. I’m not much of a whisky drinker; but it was still impressive to learn about how it was made. John Paul, on the other hand - does like whiskey – so we bellied up to the bar for some “tastings.” We did our duty as patrons and each bought a bottle as a ‘souvenir’. A gift that keeps on giving – if you will.
When we finally arrived in the metropolis of Hobart and are all of a block away from our hotel – John Paul decides to run a red light. Not on purpose….but just one of those brainfart moments where you just roll through a blatantly red stoplight. Maybe he had inhaled too much dust from the dirt roads. This wouldn’t have been such a big deal if the one cop on duty (probably in the entire state of Tasmania) was right behind us. Fifteen minutes and a $200 ticket later, we were checked into our hotel that was called “The Old Woolstore.” This was very appropriate given that we had seen probably ten thousand sheep that day just waiting to be converted into UGG boots. Despite the odd name – the hotel was decent and we ate at a great restraint called “The Ball & Chain.”
Sunday: We spend the morning putzing around the city and waiting for the Lark Distillery to open up. At 11am we decided it was early enough to start drinking whisky. I’m not much of a whisky drinker; but it was still impressive to learn about how it was made. John Paul, on the other hand - does like whiskey – so we bellied up to the bar for some “tastings.” We did our duty as patrons and each bought a bottle as a ‘souvenir’. A gift that keeps on giving – if you will.
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