Exploring the allure of Tasmania’s natural beauty and the journey to overcome a sedentary lifestyle.
In 2018, I made my first trip to Tasmania, standing in awe before a giant spider sculpture and celebrating in an abandoned cinema. My destination was Hobart, a seemingly quiet city that belied its vibrant treasures. Though it may sound like a promotional brochure, this place is both stunning and full of life.
That year, I attended Dark Mofo, an arts and music festival that infuses the city with energy, featuring giant neon upside-down crosses and a packed schedule that draws thousands each year. “What? You’re not even going to hike?” a former colleague asked, bewildered when I shared my busy itinerary. While she preferred the breathtaking slopes of Cradle Mountain, I was drawn to the festival’s dancefloor magic.
Despite her urging, I didn’t make time for a hike. I was broke after booking my flight and accommodation and lacked the necessary gear. Yet the natural beauty I glimpsed left me dreaming of immersing myself in it, accompanied by the soothing sounds of nature. I convinced myself that could wait; I wanted to experience the thrilling performances first.
Four years have passed, and I’ve been eager to return to Tasmania. I missed out on the latest Dark Mofo, but the idea of hiking and camping now beckons. With authorities encouraging exercise, perhaps it’s time to take action. Long Covid and a largely sedentary lifestyle have drained my energy, making me retreat from social events and leaving many of my creative ideas unfinished. Colleagues remind me that exercise can help, but I’m uncertain if it’s the solution. Nonetheless, it’s worth a shot.
There’s just one minor detail—Singapore’s heat can be relentless. A short walk to the bus stop in midday sun leaves me drenched in sweat. Still, I occasionally enjoy hiking at Chestnut Nature Park to clear my head, even if just briefly. The constant traffic noise nearby reminds me that I’ll need a GrabCar to finish work.
In Tasmania, I thrived in the coolness and seclusion. Would being active in another environment yield different results? In 2022, my mental health feels strained, and perhaps it’s time to learn new skills.
The Adventure Awaits
Many years ago, Alvin Tan was a 12-year-old Boy Scout, already passionate about outdoor adventures. “I’ve always loved camping and survival skills,” says Alvin, now 29 and a content strategist. Before he started school, he joined his father on camping trips at East Coast Park, where he learned to pitch a tent, sleep outdoors, and cook on a portable stove.
Alvin now takes trips into Singapore’s wilderness every two months. “Many people, especially those who’ve done NS, may think field camp was terrible. But it’s different when you go for fun,” he shares. “You disconnect.”
Disconnecting is precisely what I need. No matter how hard I try, neither Chestnut nor MacRitchie Reservoir provides the escape I seek.
As I draft my new Tasmania itinerary, I look for parks resembling Singapore’s trails to ease myself into the wilderness. A hike to Nelson Falls in Franklin-Gordon Wild Rivers National Park offers a dense, rugged path devoid of car horns. The journey to the park itself is an adventure, capped by a Gordon River Cruise through tranquil, ancient Huon Pines.
While many flock to Tasmania for mountain biking or golfing, I’m not quite ready for those challenges. Instead, I think bigger.
Not Outward Bound
Camping is a new frontier for me. I avoided field camps during BMT due to an injury, and my only camping experiences in school left me unconvinced.
Going camping in Tasmania is different from Singapore. Nature parks aren’t just one bus ride away; I need proper gear, and if the distance is great, a campervan is essential. Alvin assures me that part of the adventure is in learning how to adapt.
“You become resourceful,” he explains. “All this comes with practice.” Pitching a tent, starting a fire, identifying suitable shelter, and knowing what to pack are just the basics.
With this knowledge, I adjust my expectations. My first camping experience will likely need to be at an easily navigable location.
“Being in the wilderness reveals another side of you,” says Hafiz Shamsudin, a 34-year-old engineer, former firefighter, and outdoor enthusiast. “It takes time to embrace nature.”
Hafiz discovered a part of himself he never knew while immersing in nature: the ability to be resourceful and unwind at his own pace. Unlike Alvin, Hafiz embraced camping later in life, but each trip reminds him that time feels slower in nature compared to the fast-paced city life.
Case in Point
Maria Island National Park, located off the east coast, invites visitors to “leave ordinary life behind.” Its stunning ocean views, towering cliffs, and unique wildlife—including the Tasmanian devil—make it an ideal escape. The park offers designated campgrounds for beginners, along with scenic routes to explore via e-bikes.
While there may be limited facilities, Alvin assures me that basic skills like “cleaning yourself” become essential. Alternatively, I might consider glamping at places like the Bay of Fires Bush Retreat, where modern amenities meet breathtaking surroundings—just to ensure comfort, I’ll check for proper facilities.
The Desire to Disconnect
Ultimately, what I seek from camping aligns with Hafiz’s sentiments: “I just want a stunning view of the mountains and sky to see the stars at night.”
Reflecting on my 2018 visit, I recall being mentally drained. I had just started a new job that felt monotonous. A close friend sent me the Dark Mofo lineup during a particularly uninspired day, just as tickets were released. I had no idea where Hobart was, nor had I ever been to Australia.
I think fondly of that trip, not only because I’m tasked with writing about Tasmania. It was a rewarding experience, allowing me to visit MONA, an imaginative art gallery, explore historical convict sites, and enjoy the performances of Autechre.
Escaping work and Singapore’s fast-paced life for a while was rejuvenating for 25-year-old me. Now, I yearn for more than music-centered experiences. I seek places that demand connection and offer moments to lose myself in.
The rat race can be overwhelming. Perhaps disconnecting entirely is exactly what I need right now. The places I’m listing on my itinerary look like they promise a completely different experience in a familiar setting. Among the Tasmanian wilderness, I hope to uncover new ideas that bring my unfinished drafts back to life.
Alvin shares that lead climbing and bouldering help him reshape his focus. Hafiz takes on challenging treks when he’s off work. Conquering long hikes offers a sense of triumph in seclusion, far from civilization and, importantly, the workplace.
“Take time for yourself,” Hafiz advises. “Step away for a while.” It’s time to head to Decathlon. I can afford it now—now that’s progress.
