Hobart

Down to the south of the island now for a few days in Hobart. I’ve found a cottage on a vineyard, right next to a beach just a few miles outside town and it’s lovely. There’s a selection of their home-grown olives and a few bottles of wine in the cottage along with a an honesty box for you to pay for whatever extras you’ve consumed. Lots of lovely extra touches like mohair rugs for the chilly evenings and picnic hampers plus Wendy, the owner tells us that we can walk down to the waters edge and collect our own oysters, straight off the riverbed. I’m not big into oysters, but Will’s been known to schuck a few (48 in one go once) so we set off with our bag and instantly pick up a dozen huge oysters out of the water. Very organic. Waling back to the cottage with our prize, we come across the bones of a couple of sheep, long since mauled, and Harley is intensely interested in how all the pieces might fit together, especially the jaws and scull. He collects a bag of bones and brings them up to the cottage to play with and we later find him outside, banging the two jaws together and knocking the teeth out as Ruby observes, giggling. Feral children.