To the edge of the world

Smooth tarmac through rainforests, green meadows and hill sections as curvy as Kylie Minogue. Driving holidays and kayaking expeditions to tiny Tasmania offers you a wealth of beauty

The FGR Riesling wouldn't have happened if a certain Englishman hadn't done a Ramalinga Raju a few centuries ago. Today as I sipped Meadowbank Estate's much acclaimed Riesling, Gerald Ellis, the owner of the winery was quite forthcoming about his ancestry.

His genes had arrived to Tasmania aboard a convict ship in 1827. His ancestor, William Henry Ellis, had been sentenced to 10 years down under after 'cooking the books' in the establishment that he was a part of. "In fact, we ask all our patrons to double check their bill before paying it, just in case the old vices lying dormant in my genes awaken again," Gerald said with a wink. The fine wine, splendid views and relaxed four-hour lunch at the winery's bistro was our way of celebrating a superb time along Tasmania's East Coast.

This was my second time to Australia's Holiday Isle. I had promised myself that I'd be back because the last time I was here, in December 2005, the weather had played spoilsport and we'd had five days of rain and clouds. But this time, in March 2009, I stepped out of the Spirit of Tasmania (the ferry from Melbourne) to a very nippy morning, but a cloudless blue sky. It was the very epitome of autumn chilly dawns giving way to pleasant sunny days.

I knew exactly where to head for some warmth. The House of Anvers Chocolate Factory at Latrobe not only does chocolates as the name suggests, but also a very sumptuous breakfasts. Last time, I remember having the Aztec Chilli Hot Chocolate, the warm cocoa drink with a spicy tinge. I know it seems as bizarre as adding tonic water to tea, but this drink is delicious. Unfortunately, they have a rider that says that they are allowed to kill you if they give you the recipe, and since it was turning out to be a wonderful day, it would have been a rather inconvenient time to die. I can only guess that they pickle chillies in alcohol and add a little of that liquor into the hot chocolate.

Launceston, the biggest city in the north of the isle, is where we dug our heels in after being on the move for almost 30 hours from Mumbai to Sydney to Melbourne to Tasmania. A cruise on the Tamar River past posing pelicans, 19th century homesteads and riverbank wineries turned out a good way to dissolve all jetlag.u00a0

Going to Tasmania and not doing a driving holiday is like watching Chota Chetan without the glasses. You miss an entire dimension. In fact, the roads in Tassie are all part of some touring route or the other. We left Launceston on the East Coast Explorer which is the A3 from Launceston to Hobart via the scenic east coast.

It is after Scottsdale and all the way to St Helens, that I felt my fists tighten around the steering wheel and a warm glow spread through me because the road is an enthusiastic driver's dream. Smooth tarmac through rainforests and green meadows with long undulating straights and hill sections as curvy as Kylie Minogue. Little villages we passed along the way would have cafes serving Devonshire teas with clotted cream and local raspberry jam or Tasmanian pies.

The South Pacific comes to view at St Helens and we went off the A3 and onto the C850 to the village of Binalong Bay situated right on the Bay of Fires. This bay was so named because when Captain Tobias Furneaux commanding the 'The Adventurer', a ship in Captain Cook's flotilla wandered off course here in 1773, he saw an abnormal number of fires in the bay thanks to the aboriginal game-driving activities. Captain Furneaux promptly put down his telescope, took of a swig of his rum and named it The Bay of Fires. Today you can sit at the perfectly perched Angasi Restaurant at Binalong Bay, sip wine, gorge of freshly shucked oysters and take in the view.

During that era of 'go forth and discover faraway lands', sailors weren't at their imaginative best after months at sea, so they named places as they perceived them or after a popular member of the crew. This is how also the Wineglass Bay and the Freycinet (some ship's surgeon) Peninsula got their names. The Wineglass Bay remains as pristine as it was two centuries ago because it can only be approached by boat or a 2.5 hour moderately hard walk. But every wheezy step and drop of perspiration is worth it. If not beach of the bay itself, then at least the one-hour walk to the Wine Glass Bay lookout in the Freycinet National Park should be done. The view is stupendous and it really looks like a wine glass.

The sea itself looks like as if Dulux, Nerolac and Asian dumped their entire stock of blue into the water so many various shades. I could describe it as the blue on a peacock's neck, or that what our cricketers' wear, the blue on this paper's masthead you want to find that mera wala blue, you'll find it somewhere in the Pacific along Tasmania's east coast.

The closest you can get to the sea without actually getting into it is on a sea kayak. It looks a little scary to put out what is essentially a long piece of plastic into the water and row away into the sea. Unlike river kayaks, sea kayaks are broad, long and more stable u00e2u0080u0094 very difficult to overturn.

We did get drenched to the bone and paddling the boat needs energy, but it is super fun. I was sitting in the rear hatch and had foot-operated rudder controls to steer the kayak. I was pleasantly surprised how even a light pressure on either rudder pedal would turn the boat instantly by a few degrees. We were eight kayaks and Leith and Taryn, our guides from Freycinet Adventures, advised us to stay together because kayaks sit so low on the water, they are more easily visible to speedboats as a group.

This was a lovely break from the driving. Steering the kayak towards a deserted island that looked like a speck in the horizon and finally pulling up to its shore had a cracking sense of adventure to it. Maybe this was a shade of what those ancient mariners felt when they first set foot on this island at the edge of the world.

From Cole's Bay on the Freycinet Peninsula, we had driven to Hobart and stopped for lunch at the Meadowbanks Estate, just 10 minutes short of Hobart. And it was here in between the wine and courses that Gerald told us about his colourful ancestor, who even after being granted a free pardon in Tasmania did tread on the wrong side of the law. In 1848, he and a convict were charged with 'being in a public house on a Sunday
and tippling'. In 1850, he was charged with serving at the table 'meat and fowls found to be quite raw'.

Incidentally, we were there on a Sunday too and as we raised yet another glass of Riesling, Gerald told us with a wink, "And so, here I am now, fulfilling William Henry's legacy, encouraging tippling on Sunday. But I hope that the meat and fowl was cooked to your liking."

Our pick of Tasmania's best
Red Wine: Dalrymple Pinot Noir, Pipers River Tasmania
Cheese: Roaring 40's Blue Cheese, King's Island
Restaurant: Stillwater, Launceston
Road: Section of A3 between Swansea and Triabunna past the Great Oyster Bay
Beer: Boag's St. George, Boag's Brewery Launceston