Tassie Adventure Day Two

Our second day in the beautiful state of Tasmania began with horses just outside Latrobe. Ella careened into La La Land when she saw them.

No, she was not allowed to take the horses home. Instead, we snuggled inside with our hand-knitted handwarmers (Debbie Bliss) at Anvers Chocolate Factory not far from Latrobe. Stupidly, I had booked our accommodation a day early and we sailed out of town just in time to miss the Winter Chocolate Fest. Dang. Must have had my chocolate feelers switched off.

Nonetheless! we soon made up for things with several hot chocolates - regular, cinnamon and white (pictured) and some tasty nodules of sweet sweet cocoa.

We then toured the gorgeous retro factory, taking in the smells and the impressive range of vintage chocolate moulds and candy boxes.

This was quickly followed by sampling and staring into large windows with our noses pressed against the glass as melted chocolate oozed into moulds. Moments after this woman stopped pouring (above), she snapped two enormous Freddo frogs from their moulds and handed them to the kids - freshly made. High on sugar, the kids then jumped in their olde worlde chocolate delivery truck and were away with the fairies.

On the road again, we headed off for the seaside port of Devonport, stopping for a wind-whipped squiz at the gorgeous country view, before arriving in town and heading straight for a book shop... not before glimpsing the impressive Spirit of Tasmania at the wharf - ready to make its way back across Bass Strait to Melbourne.

After our book shopping spree, we travelled on along the coast to the picturesque town of Ulvertsone, where my beloved mother was born. There, we had lunch then threw ourselves headlong into a candy shop (what is it with country towns and their candy shops?) before driving on to the tiny seaside town of Penguin, where my mum went to school. It was a very emotional thing seeing that school. I just sat and stared for a very long time.

Of course, we had to stop and say hi to THE Penguin, despite being wind-whipped and rained on.

Next stop - a short drive to Burnie - where my mother grew up and where my dear grandfather, Wilfred Winter, lived much of his life as a writer, photographer and historian. As we drove into town, it was wonderful to see the old Burnie paper mill he talked of so often.

On the way to see my grandparent's house, we stopped at the Lactos cheese centre and gorged ourselves on the most sensational cheese you'll find outside France. We took home wheels the size of our heads, not to mention all manner of divine chutneys and sauces that go with said cheesey wheels.

Keen to warm up, we headed for our stunning, authentic apartment in a lustrous Art Deco building - the Apartments Downtown, right in the heart of Burnie. Absolute divinity!

After a warm up, we ventured back out into the cold rain to see the site of my grandfather's old photographic studio. It is run by my second cousin and is now a Kodak shop, but alas it was closed and I had no way of making contact. Another time.

It was a very emotional thing seeing this studio. I absolutely adored my grandfather. We called him 'Bampa' because my older sister couldn't pronounce the 'G' when she was little.

Spooky thing... when I finished pawing all over my Bampa's studio, I turned around and right across the road was a jeweller by the name of Joyce. My mother's name was Joyce. What a wonderful and spooky thing.

The last thing we did before heading inside for the evening was to see my grandparent's old house, right on the hill (above). It was tiny. I remember it being huge with a garden that went forever and meandered into other worlds.

How do things become so small? How I wish I could have hunted in that garden for chicken eggs and berries.

Miss you, Bampa.