Bridport, bikers and Barnbougle Golf Course – A Taste of Tasmania Part 4
If you want peace and quiet, a place to branch out into food and wine country and a round of golf on the number one course in Australia, Bridport is the place to head to.
The first impression when I arrived was that this was a one horse town with very little to do. How wrong could I be. First, the town resides along an estuary/beach and is worth a wander in the evening when the tide turns, it has a wildflower wetland and really good beaches.
Second the locals are very friendly, . Third the seafood is fresh and delicious. Fourth I bought a very cheap and desperately flattering hat (not) to keep the sun off my head. Fifth the local supermarket sells homemade food. Sixth the golfcourse is over-rated and expensive (in my opinion).
Seventh, there is a 2 kilometer historic walk along the foreshore with interesting information points along the way.
Eighth 11 touring bikers , plus the resident sheep shearers sharing a YHA with you does not make for a tranquil nights/morning sleep especially if one biker is called DOM. Here is a question for you ‘What do bikers and sheep shearers have in common?’ ‘They all like a drink’. Finally vine yards, cheese, lavender fields, flower farms, wine and more wine are easily accessible from here.
I was advised by a friend that Pipers River vineyard sold some spectacular wines. So, of course, as soon as we had checked in we headed out again for a tasting. Now I quote from the bottle of Pinot Grigio that I sampled …. “this wine displays a gently lifted bouquet of tropical fruits, banana and pear with a hint of spice” . I’ve never had this type of white wine before and I have to say that just reading the label made me want to eat it rather than drink it and when I tasted – well it was totally edible. Needless to say, I bought a couple of bottles.
Back at the ranch, the peace was disturbed by 11 aging, bikers roaring up and checking in. Sadly a couple of them conformed to most of the stereotypes kicking about society a lot of other bikers do their utmost to dispel. Having been a member of a motorcycle group in England and met other groups I can say with authority that these bikers, although in a minority, did nothing for the cause. They were loud, inconsiderate, got drunk, had no respect for other residents trying to sleep, and some of men used the women’s toilets and showers. The leader who thought he was the most funny and interesting man on the planet dominated conversations, shouted all the time, was the most drunk and shared his snippets of wisdom about the road and life. His voice reverberated throughout the building and no one got any sleep until they decided to hit the sack. I was wakened to the dulcet tones of DOM and his cohort’s at 5.30am and was forced to listen to more boring stories about him until they roared off into the distance at 7.00am. The whole building visibly sagged with relief as did the owner when he went to check on the state of the kitchen/dining area. I now understand how a normally rational person can be driven mad by continuous irritating noise as by about 2.30am I could have cheerfully shoved my hand down his throat and pulled out his vocal chords and clicking false teeth. However, I contented myself with a snide comment from the safety of my bed when one of the bikers shouted “Oh Dom I don’t know how Karen puts up with you” to which I muttered “because she has had a lobotomy”. Not nice I know but better than me going out and starting a bike war! Luckily the next night the place was empty apart from us and the sheep shearers but by then we had made a decision – the weather was good so it was time to pitch the tent at the next stop in a sheltered clearing well away from anyone else.