After a few months of trying to coordinate schedules, John Paul and I finally booked a trip to Tasmania. We wanted to embrace the full tourist experience; so we decided to travel via the “Spirit of Tasmania” cruise ship that ports about a kilometer from our house. Aside from the convenient location, they let you take your car on the boat and we figured we’d be able to cover more Tassie ground with our own wheels.
When deciding on our agenda, John Paul had only one request – to go camping. Hmmm. Camping. Isn’t that adventurous.
This may come as a surprise to some; but I’m not really the avid camper. In fact, I’m probably more inclined to pitch a tent using the desk chairs, night stand, and extra blankets they give you at the Hilton than I am setting up camp at a National Park.
Like most of my reservations, they are not created out of thin air. My hesitation towards camping stems from my 2nd grade Girl Scout troop camp out...everything was great until I had to pee in the middle of the night. Just about the time I was about to crawl out of the tent to pop a squat in the wilderness – I was pretty certain that I heard a wolf howl. At that moment, I realized that I had a life or death decision to make. Get eaten by the rabid carnivore waiting for me outside or pee my pants in the corner of the tent. I think we would all agree that I made the right decision. The fact that we were camped out in our troop leader’s backyard is really inconsequential.
Regardless, the camp out experience from my childhood – combined with the fact that it is WINTER in the Southern Hemisphere – caused me to veto John Paul’s request. That meant that I needed to come up with some REALLY fun activities to take the focus off the fact that I refused to sleep outside. Lucky for me, John Paul is easily distracted by alchohol themed outings and Tasmania is full of wineries, breweries, & distilleries. GREAT SUCCESS!
I’ll follow up later with more details on the trip....
When deciding on our agenda, John Paul had only one request – to go camping. Hmmm. Camping. Isn’t that adventurous.
This may come as a surprise to some; but I’m not really the avid camper. In fact, I’m probably more inclined to pitch a tent using the desk chairs, night stand, and extra blankets they give you at the Hilton than I am setting up camp at a National Park.
Like most of my reservations, they are not created out of thin air. My hesitation towards camping stems from my 2nd grade Girl Scout troop camp out...everything was great until I had to pee in the middle of the night. Just about the time I was about to crawl out of the tent to pop a squat in the wilderness – I was pretty certain that I heard a wolf howl. At that moment, I realized that I had a life or death decision to make. Get eaten by the rabid carnivore waiting for me outside or pee my pants in the corner of the tent. I think we would all agree that I made the right decision. The fact that we were camped out in our troop leader’s backyard is really inconsequential.
Regardless, the camp out experience from my childhood – combined with the fact that it is WINTER in the Southern Hemisphere – caused me to veto John Paul’s request. That meant that I needed to come up with some REALLY fun activities to take the focus off the fact that I refused to sleep outside. Lucky for me, John Paul is easily distracted by alchohol themed outings and Tasmania is full of wineries, breweries, & distilleries. GREAT SUCCESS!
I’ll follow up later with more details on the trip....
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