Ever dream of a land beyond a land down under? For the true explorer, nothing tops Tasmania. If you think the Outback is out there, look further south. Though the remote and gorgeous island is an Australian state, it feels like a separate country, one that exists on an almost entirely separate (unspoiled) planet. The Edge of the World, on the western coast, is both a location and a mindset: the only thing further south is the white continent of Antarctica, and to the east is the world’s longest uninterrupted stretch of ocean, across to Argentina. If travel is ultimately a search for the sublime, the geographic coordinates alone signify endless possibilities.
“I haven’t been to Tasmania, I haven’t been to the South Pole, and I haven’t been to the North Pole.” Martha Stewart memorably said of her bucket list. Memorable to me, because as a fellow blonde from New Jersey, I learned we shared another thing in common: Tasmania was the ultimate adventure.
I’ve had my personal fantasy of Tasmania for nearly two decades now — ever since I read an article on this magical land during a Ryanair inflight magazine when I was nineteen years old. It was a story of one specific hike, and it was presented as an exploration at the end of the world, one of the last, untouched places. Where this hike is located— or what the trail is called — I can’t remember. But I’ll never forget where I was that moment, traveling with a college boyfriend on a two-hour flight from Paris to Portugal. And as excited as I was for port wine and the Douro Valley, my mind’s eye was already cast further afield. My wanderlust outlived the relationship, but it would take 50 more countries, and a couple more decades, for my dream to come true this past spring. Landing in Launceston, I knew I’d made it.
Blundstones
(Photo provided by Katherine Parker-Magyar)
My hosts for the occasion were the alliterative and complementary duo of Backroads, which launched their first Tasmania itinerary in 2024, and Blundstone, a heritage institution that perfected the bush boot, perfect for my journey into the wild.
I was sent a pair of Blundstones in advance of my trip, which turned out to be the closest thing I could get to an Australian passport, if not a born-and-bred-Tasmanian residency. “You need to have a bush-whacking pair and a bashing pair,” said Blundstone joint CEO Adam Blake. The brand is 155 years old, 100% family-owned, and the originator of the Chelsea Boot. They are Tassie to the bone, or the sole — in 1900, there were 300 bootmakers in Tasmania, and Blundstones are the only ones still in business.
“We’ve woven Tasmania into our brand,” explains Blake. They were essential footwear for my trip to the island, and would garner me immense street cred from passersby on the street, almost an in-the-know status symbol. “Tasmania is incredibly beautiful and incredibly rugged,” says Blake, “and our products are a result of where they’re designed for, with thick leather soles you can walk up a mountain.” And indeed, I would be walking up mountains and the bush boot was (unsurprisingly) perfect for the bush. They’re slip-on, shock-absorbent, and comfortable enough to wear all day — a major plus when mornings are spent trekking, and afternoons biking.
“It sounds spiritual, but everything starts with the sole,” said Blake. At the risk of sounding trite, I was certainly starting my trip on the right foot — and more spiritual revelations awaited upon my arrival on-island.
Backroads
(Photo provided by Katherine Parker-Magyar)
But first, let’s retract the winding road that led me straight to my eight-day Backroads adventure — or rather, the initial mindset. When I’d envisioned travel in Tasmania, it always incorporated the great outdoors, which heretofore had been a great unknown. The landscape is very rugged, and despite being a relatively small island, it’s not easily navigable. (I for one am not a good enough driver to weather these roads). Plus, I’d remembered that story from decades ago of that fateful, dangerous hike. “This place was not made by god, and if it was, he was drunk or asleep,” Bodhar, a French explorer, once said of Tasmania, and I’ll take his word for it. This was not an expedition to undertake — or plan — alone. Though I’d never been one for group trips necessarily, on this occasion, expert organization was key.
So, when I discovered Backroads was launching a new adventure trip in Tasmania, the timing felt perfect. I wanted to maximize my time on the island by seeing the highlights and the hidden gems, and the itinerary was irresistible. I’d heard about the company and was always intrigued: active exploration and luxurious accommodations along the roads less traveled — and Tasmania was certainly less traveled — in fact, Backroads launched my itinerary, National Parks, Wildlife & Wineries Down Under, on the island only recently.
Backroads had wanted to create a new trip in Australia, and after searching far and wide across the country, landed on Tasmania. “In just a few days, you can hike through alpine tundra that feels like the Scottish Highlands, wander through rainforest, have a vineyard picnic, and kayak along wild, dramatic coastline,” explains Riley Pearce, the director of trip development at Backroads. “And the wildlife? That’s the cherry on top.”
(Photo provided by Katherine Parker-Magyar)
And indeed, the presence of wallabies, wombats, and pademelons felt like the island was overrun by marsupial madness. I was even lucky enough to spot the animal of the island, the Tasmanian devil itself, which I found to be cute and raccoon-like, inquisitive and scrappy, a more adorable New York City rat.
Wildlife, unsurprisingly, is rampant across Tasmania, and the birding is spectacular. Sheep outnumber people in Tasmania, and over 40% of the land is preserved in national parks and reserves, so this is not a destination for withering away indoors (however appealing the cheese and sparkling wine on the island may encourage said behavior — another Tassie surprise, the unbelievable food).
Luckily, my Backroads trip was all about exploring the great outdoors, and our itinerary took us from the mountains to the coast, as we wound our way across Tasmania. I don’t know what I was quite expecting on an all-ages trip, but a part of me did consider that maybe the activities wouldn’t be as strenuous or invigorating to accommodate all members of the group. On that part, I was pleasantly surprised — each hike, or bike trip, is as long or as difficult as you’d like it to be. I was amazed at how our guides, Ruby Wood and Darren Smith, were so flexible in adapting to different levels of fitness. Assisted by locals, including Corey Graham, they were spectacular — always leading the path or trailing behind (where I would linger back on certain walks or hikes to gossip and socialize).
I had thought, because this was a group trip, that perhaps I’d be less challenged physically, but my activity level was so high, my iPhone was giving me warnings about my step count — you’re walking an unusual amount today. “Are you okay?” was the subtext. And I’m happy to report that hiking ten miles in the morning immediately impacted my mindset for the better, and I felt myself soaking in the landscape and reveling in the natural beauty around me. It’s easy to be present and immerse yourself in nature when you’re in motion — phone tucked away, Wi-Fi spotty, and a time zone separating you from the rush of morning emails.
(Photo provided by Katherine Parker-Magyar)
After two days, I felt myself slow down and practice the mindfulness that’s always elusive in my day-to-day life. Biking through the bush one morning, I found myself listening to “Astral Weeks” on repeat, Van Morrison’s transcendent message resonating anew, as humbling and awe-inspiring as my luminous surroundings: “I’m nothing but a stranger in this world.”
Though I wasn’t such a stranger after a few days on the island. I bonded quickly with the rest of the group and was delighted to be taken in by various guests as a solo traveler. I found the crew was cohesive nearly immediately — fun, inclusive, welcoming — we all shared thrill-seeking tendencies and a curious spirit, whether we were aged 18 or 58. Another benefit of small group travel is the unexpected company you’ll keep, and the soul-stirring conversations you’ll have with people who were heretofore strangers. By the third night, I found myself truly connecting — savoring the sparkling wine cocktail we’d share at night, gazing up at the stars, which in the Southern Hemisphere never burned brighter.
On the first day of our trip, we had to share one word we hoped to experience on the trip, and I said ‘surprise’. Pretty basic, I know, but it’s amazing how fitting that would come to be. I knew I’d be in awe of the otherworldly landscape, but I didn’t expect to be so inspired by my fellow travelers or so delighted by the cuisine and the locals I met on the trip. The people may be outnumbered by the sheep on the island, but they more than make up for it in personality. Tasmania — come for the views, stay for the culture.
Getting to know the people better, I thought of the words of Adam Blake about the island’s spirit: “Our brand is very Tasmanian, very down to earth. People in Tasmania are solid and modest — not a lot of hoo-ha — and we like to think Blundstone is like that: practical.” And there certainly is a Tassie practicality — no fuss, no muss — as well as a sense of whimsy, evident in the cheekiness and the general playfulness of the culture. And, just like Blundstone, I’ve found upon my return that Tasmania is almost a cult-classic: If you know, you know. If you’ve ever visited, you’re obsessed. And if you haven’t, you don’t know what you’re missing.
